Iden shook his head. “No, no. It’s just. . . . Well, where are you from? The name Whyte is far more common in Mayhem than in Mischief.”
Katiyana hesitated. “I’ve never been to Mayhem. I live here in the forest with Kurz and the others.”
“Kurz?”
“Yes,” Katiyana answered. “He’s the one with black hair that was sitting by the fire. I bought him as a slave and he invited me to live with him and the other dwarves.”
“How long ago was that?” He led their walk with his hands clasped behind his back. I wondered if he still carried a knife in his boot, but I also had the impression he was more interested in finding out about Katiyana than in killing her. His grinning face and carefree manner prevented me from too much worry.
But why the storm? Was it merely a spring rain, or was it my spell brewing in preparation to defend her? Another clap of thunder roared above, and an intense flash of lightning lit the sky, but the rain continued to hold back. I envied them on their stroll, and imagined the smell of fresh air, rain, and damp spruce and pine needles on a bed of moistening twigs and leaves.
Katiyana’s pallid face contrasted severely with her dark hair and eyebrows, and her cheeks, which radiated a cherry hue. I wondered what she thought about in those moments of pondering. Perhaps she remembered what Barney had always told her about never telling anyone where she came from. But Katiyana answered anyway, perhaps because Barney had never bothered to give her any reasons. “I’ve lived here for a few months. Before that I lived on an apple orchard with my uncle.”
“And your uncle, was his name Whyte as well?”
Katiyana only nodded as she brought her solemn eyes downward, staring toward the ground below her. Rain water spotted the skirt of her tan-colored dress.
“What is it like living with dwarves?” He sounded disgusted. Mayhem’s laws and practices must have left a mark on the prince; he obviously didn’t think very highly of such people.
“It’s wonderful. It’s the best place I’ve ever lived. They’re all so kind to me.” Her tone did not match the enthusiasm of her words.
“But they’re dwarves.”
“Yes, and you’re obnoxious.” Katiyana halted and faced the boy who dared oppose her little men.
“Your face is so pale.”
Katiyana reached up to touch her cheek.
Iden placed a hand on her forearm. “It’s like holding an icicle. Why are you so cold? You’re wearing a shawl, and it’s not terribly cold out here.”
“Perhaps you make me sick,” she answered callously, stuffing her arm back under her shawl.
“Have I done something to offend you?” he asked.
Katiyana’s eyes shot away from him as if she looked for a way to escape. “I can’t describe it.” She continued to look away as she spoke. “I’m only this color when you’re around. I don’t feel the cold, even though you say I’m like ice, but I can see how my skin changes and it alarms me.”
She pulled out her arm to inspect it, and then swept it back under the protection of her fuzzy, knitted shawl that was just a shade or two darker than her dress.
“Whenever you’re around, I’m uneasy somehow.”
Finally, her eyes returned to his, wide and fearless. “And I hate to hear you talking poorly of my friends.” Some of her color came back in the heat of her words.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and he may have actually meant it. “I will try to take some time to get to know your living companions. I’m sure they’re as kind as you say.”
For once, the smirk was gone from his face, and he straightened his lips and focused solely on the bright blue eyes of the princess of Mayhem.
“And when I say you’re pale, what I mean is that your face is so fair—calm and peaceful—and white as snow.” He swept his thumb across her cheek. “It’s beautiful.”
He held his thumb there on her face, softly stroking her frozen cheek. “You’re beautiful,” he finished. I wanted to gag.
I couldn’t tell if the red in her cheeks lingered from her previous anger, or if she blushed at his flattery, but the longer they stood there, the more the color seeped away from her until Katiyana looked more ashen and uncomfortable than ever. I hoped for some distraction—a branch falling off a tree or a scurrying animal—anything to free her from his advances.
“Can you tell me, is your first name short for anything?” Iden asked, lowering his hand from her face and shuffling into a leisurely pace once more.
Katiyana joined him. “No,” she responded. Little did she know.
Iden looked at her strolling beside him. “It’s not quite right for you, is it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Kat is so childish. And it doesn’t suit you.”
Katiyana stopped again. “Do you ever say anything pleasant?”
“I’m sorry,” Iden returned, smooth as glass. “That’s not what I meant. It’s too simple for you. You deserve something more. With a surname like Whyte, and how you sometimes blend in with storm clouds . . .”
“What name are you suggesting exactly?”
“Snow.”
The princess reflected for a moment.
“Snow Whyte. Now that suits you. There, now what do you think?”
Piercing loud thunder rolled above them as white lightning flashed and a sheet of torrential rain fell from the sky. In unison, they ran back toward the dwarf house, Katiyana holding her shawl above her head.
When they reached their destination, they bolted through the door, entering the candlelit, fire-warmed abode and shutting out the fierce storm. Katiyana hung up her dripping shawl.
“Could I call on you again?” Iden asked
Jalb stared at the prince with fierce, blood-thirsty eyes. He grunted at the boy’s request.
“You’re not leaving already?” Duan inquired. “It’s pouring out. Why don’t you stay for dinner?”
Iden’s eyes flicked back and forth between the one inviting him to stay and the one who looked like he wanted to kill him. Finally, he settled back on Katiyana. “May I come again?”
“You may come again if you’d like,” the princess said. “But I think I’d rather stay here than go for any more walks. That way you can get to know everyone else, and we won’t get stuck out in the rain.”
Kurz looked a bit worried as he watched Katiyana as if he suspected “Trevor Blevkey” of something. I was grateful the princess had such caring guardians. “That sounds like a wise idea, Kat.”
Iden cleared his throat. I don’t blame him for being nervous; Jalb had that affect on me and I was safe inside a mirror. “Well, I’d better be going.”
He thanked Duan for the invite, avoided looking in Jalb’s general direction, and bid farewell. Katiyana held the door open for him.
“Good-bye, Snow Whyte,” he said, pausing in the doorway. He looked like he wanted to say more, but Jalb came up behind them and kicked the door shut.
“What’d you go and do that for?” Kurz asked.
“I don’t like him!” Jalb said, excusing his rude behavior. “He gives me the winkles.”
“He does seem to have a strange affect on the color of her skin,” Kapos noted. “Is everything all right, Kat?”
Katiyana’s color was beginning to come back already.
“See?” Jalb asked. “Suspicious. And I don’t like it. I’m sure Blevkey’s a worse name than Simkins. Mark my words, we’ll all be sorry if we keep letting him come around.”
“Hold your tongue,” Duan said kindly. “Can’t you see you’re disturbing the girl?”
Katiyana sat at the table, solemn and searching. “Don’t any of you care what I think?”
All the little men bowed their heads except Pokole, who I’m sure cared what Katiyana thought, but hated Trevor Blevkey just the same.
“Of course we care what you t
hink,” Kurz said. “How do you feel about Trevor Blevkey?”
“Well, I don’t really know anything about him. But I didn’t know anything about any of you when I came through that door,” she said, nodding toward the front entrance. “It’s not fair if we shun him yet. Even if he does have a big mouth.”
“Got that right,” Pokole interjected.
“And who’s to say anything about his name? Who knows if Blevkey is worse than Simkins?” Here she paused. I wondered how long it’d been since she had last thought of Jeremy. As for me, my opinion of him remained unchanged, since he seemed determined to fail at everything, including coming back for Katiyana.
“I won’t slam the door on him anymore,” Jalb said repentantly. He looked up and glanced around at everyone else. “Unless you tell me to. Then I’d be happy to oblige.”
Katiyana looked at Pokole; it was his opinion she cared about most. But he wouldn’t even look at her. He began climbing down the table when Corto and Arrapato got up to help him to the ground. Stiff from sitting there for so long, he limped across the room and leaned against the wall near the fire.
It made me proud to watch Katiyana that day—the way she had stood up to a prince and acted with wisdom in regards to judging character. Not to mention being careful around strange boys. But Iden would come back, and not before he concocted a plan dripping with selfish deceit.
^-]
Fortune watched over Katiyana, or perhaps it was the blessing of my spell. Queen Radiance had been distracted with a few uprisings in Mayhem over these last several days. When she finally came to ask me whether the beast carter had succeeded in the task she’d given him, I used every possible attempt at diversion.
“Did you know, Queen Radiance, that twelve men are meeting right now to discuss your overthrow?”
“I don’t care!” she snapped. “Show me the girl!”
“Did you also know that with the warm weather you so cleverly brought about, several trips have been made by your subjects to the kingdom of Mischief, where they hope to gain help and support from the kingdom in bringing about your ruin?”
“Really?” she asked, before realizing my distractions were working. “Wait a minute, you’re lying, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I admitted, but that was a lie; people really were traveling to Mischief to ask for sanctuary or help from the throne to bring Queen Radiance’s rule to an end. And I could have shown her those twelve men meeting to discuss her overthrow. Better to let her wonder, I decided.
“Show me the girl or I’ll come inside and cut off all your toes!”
I relented, showing her the picture of Katiyana looking gloomily across the room at Pokole.
“Impossible,” she said.
“Obviously,” I said back.
She glared at me with those menacing dark eyes. “What has that fool been doing?”
“Let’s see,” I began. “I’ve seen him talking with the princess, walking with the princess, drinking at the pub, and using your money to sleep in the comfort of Mischief’s prime inn and purchase extravagant clothing and food. Oh, and I believe he sold your horse because he couldn’t afford to keep it lodged and fed anymore.”
She closed her eyes. I wondered how much self-control she exercised in that moment not to scream, or to kill me for that matter. When her eyes opened again, she spoke coolly, evenly. “I’ll deal with you later. Right now I have a princess to kill.” Her black dress twirled as she spun around, her stately grace disappearing as she rushed out of the room’s stone-framed doorway.
I turned my concentration to the outside in hopes of seeing the power of my spell flare once more. My anticipations did not go in vain. A winter storm rushed toward the castle—strong and impenetrable, the near black sky rolling in and dumping a whirlwind of angry white snow. The queen did not quite make it to her carriage before a blizzard overtook the whole kingdom. That’s when I knew my spell was stronger than I had ever imagined.
^-]
That evening, after a meal of pine nuts and scraps left over from Queen Radiance’s supper, including hardened bread covered in strawberry preserves, I watched Iden make his way purposefully to the platform—the same one where Katiyana had purchased Kurz. The sky in Mischief glowered down, gray and ominous, but the storm remained at a distance; only a few raindrops fell on the dusty ground.
A chubby man busied himself on the platform, holding a small rocking chair in one hand and a worn stool in the other.
“Juno,” Iden called.
I remembered Juno—the man who sold dwarves into slavery and rubbed shoulders with the mysterious Jeremy Simkins.
“Good day, sir.”
“Juno, it’s me,” Iden whispered. “Look carefully.”
Juno dropped the furniture and glanced quickly around as if checking for eavesdroppers.
“I don’t know nothing,” he said, loud enough for any passers-by to hear.
Iden looked around as well, but everyone was busy packing up their shops for the evening.
“Juno, don’t pretend not to know me.”
Juno came close and crouched down until his head sat just above Iden’s. “I can’t claim to know you. Not here. I’ll lose my position if I help you.”
“I’m not asking for help. Just for information.”
“What are you doing in Mischief? I thought you’d been assigned somewhere in Mayhem. Must have hated your parents for that.”
“Yes,” Iden agreed. “Awful place. How is the royal family?”
“All well, as far as I know, but I can’t say anythin’ more than that.” He held up his hands, shaking them as if begging Iden not to ask any more questions.
“It’s okay, Juno, old friend. I only wanted to ask you about the princess of Mayhem.”
“Prince Iden, you know as well as I do that there is no princess of Mayhem. She died.” Juno tried to straighten his fat knees and stand up again. With great effort, he succeeded but had to shake his legs a moment to loosen them up.
Iden leaned forward in anxious excitement. “But where did she die? When? How?”
“When she was a babe, I think. Long ago. I don’t exactly remember how. Somethin’ to do with wild animals. Her crazy father’s fault, the rumor says.”
It was true, I reflected. A faulty rumor did exist. Queen Radiance had started it herself. She’d even sent a letter to the king and queen of Mischief, hoping for some gift as an expression of sympathy. The king and queen sent her a rooster with a note that said, “A jester for her Majesty, the Queen of Mayhem, to keep her company now that her family is lost.” Queen Radiance sent an army to deprive the kingdom of Mischief its entire stock of poultry. Nonetheless, everyone believed it was Fredrick who had been the cause of the princess’s death. But listen to me go on. The princess wasn’t dead!
“What was her name?” Iden asked.
Juno turned away from the conversation to collect the furniture once more, but searched his memory out loud in the process. “Katarine . . . Katja . . . Katiyana! That’s it. Katiyana.” He carried the furniture down the steps that led to the area below the platform, resurfacing moments later. He lowered the floor door and pulled a ring of keys from his pants pocket to lock it.
“I think she’s alive.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Prince . . .” He interrupted his own sentence. “I can’t call you that. Not here, it’s too risky. Is there somethin’ else I can call you?”
“My name’s been Trevor Blevkey for the last seven years, but listen to me. I’m telling you, she’s alive! And I’m going to marry her. I’m going to marry her and be the king of both Mischief and Mayhem.”
“If your parents heard you going on . . .”
“Don’t worry about that. I’m here because the queen of Mayhem sent me. That’s where my handler stationed me—as a servant to Queen Radiance. I haven’t left my position, not really.” H
e grew more annoyed with every word. “Besides, what do you care?”
“Fact is, I don’t care. It’s just I don’t want to get caught talkin’ to you.” He looked around again. “You’ve got to get out of here, and don’t try to talk to me again.”
He turned to leave, but Iden called him back. “Now what do you want?”
“Well, I’m out of money. The queen gave me a little, but she had me leave in such a hurry that I didn’t have a chance to get any more. I haven’t really got a place to stay either.”
Juno rolled his eyes. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“I’ll stay hidden,” Iden said, directing his eyes to the door in the platform. “It’s too cold to sleep outdoors.”
“You want to stay here?”
“Juno, please. I’ll make it up to you someday, I promise. I only have a little bit of time left before I return as prince.”
“Wait a minute. You said the queen sent you here?”
“That’s right.” Iden gave a single nod.
“Why?”
“Oh, I don’t want to alarm you . . .” Iden shook his head and folded his arms, leaning back in a casual stance.
“Tell me if you want to stay with me.” Juno stood with his hands on his hips. I knew he wouldn’t budge. Iden must have known it too, because he spilled his secret.
He whispered low. “She sent me to kill a girl. The princess.”
“I told you, there is no princess.”
“Time will tell, my friend. Time will tell.” Iden smiled wide.
Juno unlocked the platform door once more, pulling it vertical. “Go on in. Hope you don’t mind sleeping with spiders.”
“Thank you, Juno.” He slapped the large man on the back before descending.
“Stupid boy,” Juno muttered, shaking his head and closing the door. “I reckon he hasn’t learned a thing in seven years.”
Then snow began to fall.
A Gift
I must say it isn’t easy watching people make choices that you know will hurt them. If only there had been a way for me to communicate with Katiyana—tell her Trevor Blevkey was a scoundrel of a prince with his own twisted plans. I never wanted her to let him in again. I wanted him to stay away from her. Marry her just so he could rule both kingdoms? I’d have rather seen her marry Jeremy Simkins, who had spent a long, hard, disappointing winter looking for work.
Snow Whyte and the Queen of Mayhem Page 13