Snow: A Retelling or Rose-Red and Snow-White (Thistle Grove Tales Book Book 2)

by Summer Donnelly

  He flung it on the ground, disgusted with himself and with the power-hungry witch who wouldn’t allow his people to live in peace.

  Avery shifted back into his human form. He held his palm out, generating a heat ball the size of a cantaloupe. Once it reached optimum temperature, he flung the ball at the withering heart, and it incinerated with a little hiss of steam.

  The wild screams died with her, leaving the six travelers panting, sweating, and still very far from home.

  Snow

  Using a combination of magic and strength, they gathered at the mouth of the cave. Snow knelt by her sister’s side, feeling her pulse and looking for injuries. “I think she’s just dehydrated. I don’t see any wounds.”

  “We need to build two travoises,” Tristan said. “I can pull Griff.”

  “I’ll pull Red,” Avery offered.

  Together, they collected the items necessary to fashion two rough sleds to take their wounded home.

  Snow kept vigil. Gaul was still out there. Somewhere. With Nora dead, his power might be diminished. Or anger and fury could make him unpredictable.

  “Thank you for finding us,” Red said.

  Snow gave her another drink of water and smiled. “Your color is improving.”

  “I’ll always come for you, Red. You’re my sister. I’d storm castles, fight witches, and take on dragons for you.” Snow looked around. “Well. I’d kind of prefer not to fight any dragons by myself. But I’d do it if I had to.”

  Red’s smile was wan but sincere. “I love you, Snow-White.”

  “I love you, too, Rose-Red.” Snow’s fingers laced with her sister’s as she scanned the area.

  Wait. Was something there?

  Snow rose to her feet, gently detangling herself from her sister. “Ruby,” she hissed. “Get your weapons ready.”

  The two battle-hardened warriors stood as one, staffs pointed at whatever was moving in the woods.

  “Argghhh—” Gaul charged from behind a tree. His gait was oddly tilted as though he carried a heavy load.

  Snow reached for her knife, weighed the hilt in her hand, before throwing it at Gaul’s chest. She grumbled when she missed and merely nicked his shoulder.

  “Tristan! We need you!” she called telepathically for her bear.

  Ruby charged forward, her staff at the ready. She swung low, knocking Gaul’s feet out from under him. Her strikes were true, but Gaul’s goblin strength proved too much for Ruby’s thrusts.

  Snow used her staff to pull off the satchel Gaul wore. Coins jangled as they dropped to the ground, and Snow smiled. He had brought some of his hoard back for Nora, she assumed.

  Gaul screamed again, his fingers clutching at the bag that now dangled from Snow’s staff. While the goblin was distracted, Ruby struck him again. She managed to get him off his feet, but he rose with an inhuman howl of need.

  His eyes turned molten, and his hands clutched and clawed, seeking his hoard.

  The steady beat of running bears came from the east. With a large bellow, Tristan lunged on Gaul’s form. Avery was half a pace behind with a limping Griffin picking up the rear.

  Tristan’s claws swung a mighty death blow, but still, the goblin wouldn’t stay down. The three shifters took turns mauling the goblin who had stolen their power, terrorized their homes, and tried to cause a new war between the Witches and the Fables.

  Soon, there was nothing left but a ragged set of clothing and scraps of Gaul’s long beard.

  Panting, they stared at the fallen body of their sworn enemy. It was over. Their enemies were dead.

  Some of the gold was returned. Snow saw the power surge inside the Knox brothers.

  Now all they had to do was figure a way out of Paulina’s territory before an actual war broke out.

  By silent agreement, they left the cave. Evil still lingered there.

  “The travoises are ready. Do we leave now or wait until dark?” Griffin askes as he and Tristan worked together to wrap the hoard into pouches to carry.

  “Halt! Who goes there?” A man wearing Paulina’s colors appeared over the rocky ledge and glared at them.

  Avery muttered. “Well, that settles that argument. Do we kill the sentry, too?”

  Chapter Eight

  Tristan

  “You can’t just kill everyone who gets in the way.” Ruby’s voice was droll as she spoke to Avery.

  “He’s wearing Paulina’s colors. He probably has friends right behind him. Honestly, I’d be doing us all a favor to dispatch the weasel.”

  The boy charged, his sword drawn. “I arrest you in the name of Queen Paulina the Malevolent! Drop your weapons.”

  Tristan merely looked at him. “You’re a lad of barely seventeen. Go home, boy. I’m sure your mother is looking for you.”

  He turned his sword to Tristan, raised it as though to attack. He charged before tripping over the scattered remains of Gaul’s body. “Wait. What the? What is that?”

  “That is what’s left of the last man who tried to best me,” Tristan returned with a raised eyebrow. “Would you like to join him?”

  The young sentryman gulped audibly.

  “Let’s be reasonable,” Griffin interrupted his brother’s casually spoken threats. He sat on a large rock and waved the boy closer. Griffin’s leg was bandaged, he was weak, but still every inch the Baron. “You said you work for Paulina the Malevolent, right?”

  “Aye, sir.” The boy tilted his chin with pride. “I’m Joseph, and I’m in charge of the eastern boundary.”

  Griffin looked like he wanted to scoff at the lad’s boast, but he wisely kept his mouth shut. “Well, Joseph of the Eastern Boundary, we have a message for you to take back to your queen.”

  Joseph was astounded. “You can tell her yourself when I bring you ruffians in.”

  Tristan folded his arms across his massive chest. “Do you see what we did to the last two? Is tangling with us really in your best interest?” Snow and Ruby brandished their staffs menacingly.

  The boy gulped as he peeked at Gaul’s torn remains and Nora’s corpse. “B-b-but it is my job to bring you to the Queen. She’ll kill me if I don’t.”

  “You may certainly try, Joseph. And Paulina may very well kill you. Or, we can kill you.” Griffin’s voice grew stern. “Or, you can take an important message back to your queen and figure a way not to wind up dead.”

  Tristan picked up the travois and looked apologetically at Avery. With a shrug, the sheriff shifted into his wolf form. “Thank you, Sheriff.” With gentle hands, he picked Red up and secured her on the sled.

  Joseph nodded. “I will give her your message,” he vowed. “If she doesn’t kill me first,” he muttered under his breath.

  “Very good,” Tristan said, applauding the boy’s decision. “Kindly tell Paulina that her sister Nora and the goblin Gaul were working in concert to end the Treaty of the Wicked Witches. They attacked our home of Thistle Grove.”

  “Damn Fables,” Joseph said with a sneer.

  Tristan chuffed and chose to ignore his comments. “They kidnapped our Baron and his mate, Red. They stole our magic. They were trying to instigate a war between our people who kept the peace for over twenty years. Not only were they trying to take over our lands, but they were also planning a coup against your queen.

  “We have come to retrieve our friends and loved ones and are now returning to our home over the Grimm River. If she has any questions, I am sure an envoy can be established.”

  Joseph’s hands shook as he slid his sword back into its scabbard, but he didn’t leave right away. Duty warred with sense. His duty was to bring these trespassers to justice. His common sense told him to go while the going was good.

  “You may go now.” Snow slid her staff into the holster she wore across her back. No longer a sweet young miss, she was every inch a warrior. She took the travois from Tristan. He brushed his lips across Snow’s forehead before shifting with a loud growl.

  The sentry, realizing he had been dismissed, backed a
way from the large animals and heavily armed women. “I will give her your message,” Joseph said with as much grace as he could. “But it will be interesting to see if you can make it across the river with your injured.” It was like he couldn’t resist offering them one last ill wish.

  Snow ignored the retreating lad and secured the sled on Tristan’s back. Ruby and Snow worked together to get Griffin into a comfortable position.

  “Ready?” Ruby asked.

  “Let’s roll,” Snow said, echoing Tristan’s words on other occasions. Ruby led the way, followed by Avery and Red. Tristan and Griffin took the middle. Snow covered their rear.

  Snow

  “You’ve grown, so I hardly recognize you anymore,” Red commented when they stopped for lunch just before the Grimm River. Tristan and Avery fished while Snow removed the bandage around the Baron’s leg.

  “I haven’t changed,” Snow denied. “I still want to go home and bake. Cookies, cakes, scones, muffins. Everything we haven’t eaten this last sennight.”

  “Ooh.” Ruby’s belly growled with Snow’s words. “Now you are speaking my language. I need to check on Grandmother.”

  Red and Snow exchanged a glance. “I’m worried about Mother, too.” Snow patted Griffin’s leg and went to wash her hands.

  “Will we be home by nightfall?” Red wondered, sage green eyes following her sister.

  Ruby shook her hair, an auburn curl slipping against her cheek. “Mid-afternoon tomorrow,” she predicted. Ruby stood to check on Griffin. “I’m worried about the Baron, though. Shifters normally heal very fast. He’s running a fever, and his ankle doesn’t look good.”

  “We are going to use the river to help debride the wound,” Snow said when she returned. With a nod, she indicated Tristan and Avery who were already on the other side of the river. “We’ll sleep on Fable’s side of the river tonight and be home by lunch tomorrow.”

  Leaving Avery to watch the fire and roast the three brace of fish they caught, Tristan returned to help the injured across the river.

  “It’s deep,” he warned. “Deeper than when we crossed the first time. The storm Gaul and Nora kicked up made it swell.”

  “Take Red and Ruby first,” Snow said. “I want to make sure your brother’s leg is cleaned before I pack and bandage it.”

  Snow stood guard as Tristan crossed the river. The travois, buoyed by the water, floated as Tristan trudged his way to safety.

  A branch snapped, and Snow stiffened. She glanced at Griffin, but he drifted in and out of consciousness. Snow’s hands gripped her staff, and she began circling the area. Her breathing grew choppy as her nerves tautened.

  A crow called, startling Snow. Why were birds suddenly calling in the woods? The fluttering of wings grew louder, and Snow’s grip tightened. She’d clobber them all, she decided.

  One shiny black raven landed near Griffin.

  “Shoo,” Snow said, waving her hand at the curious creature. The bird tilted its head and watched with contemplative eyes.

  “Tristan,” she called, daring to take her eyes off the bird and look for her bear. Snow swallowed reflexively when she saw how far away Tristan still was.

  On the safe side of the river, Red was warming by the fire while Ruby prepared for their meal. Tristan was only just beginning to come back for her and Griffin.

  “Go,” she told the bird. “We mean you no harm. Tell your mistress we’re going home.”

  The raven’s wings fluttered, its talons growing, it’s beak elongating into a gross interpretation of a bird. Snow backed up, putting her body solidly in front of the Baron’s.

  She heard Tristan leave the water, the pounding of the earth as he ran towards her as if he sensed the danger they were in.

  He roared, a deep and ugly sound guaranteed to wake the very ground he stood on. Griffin stirred, opened his delirium-filled eyes and shared in their horror.

  The raven grew tall. Graceful. Wings trimmed to become glorious silken hair. Beady eyes adjusted. Hands and legs extended. Snow watched in growing horror as Paulina the Malevolent appeared before them in all her regal glory.

  Snow nodded, never taking her eyes off the woman.

  “How are you doing, Baron?” Paulina asked, ignoring Snow as if she were no more than slime stuck to her shoe.

  “He has a fever,” Snow protested.

  “Been better,” Griffin acknowledged.

  Tristan shifted as he approached, every bit the young royal as he stood before their counterpart. His voice was icy. “Paulina.”

  “You’re trespassing, Baron.” Paulina’s voice was silky, danger lurked behind every syllable.

  “Not willingly,” Tristan said. He stood shoulder to shoulder with Snow. A united front against an uncertain enemy.

  “Yes, so I heard.” Paulina’s eyes drifted to Griffin’s prone form on the sled. She stood over him. “Why haven’t you healed?”

  “Silver.” Griffin’s voice was thready but confident. “Your sister and her goblin chained me with silver.”

  Paulina’s eyes narrowed as she considered her options. Coming to an internal decision, she nodded once. With a wave of her hand, the festering wound on Griffin’s ankle began to heal.

  Infection was forced out, dripping down his leg and pooling on the ground. Snow watched as the area scabbed over. It repaired until only a faint pink scar circled his ankle.

  “Why?” Griffin asked, his fever clearing as the infection left his body.

  “Consider it a quid pro quo. A favor for a favor.” One winged eyebrow lifted. “I do not wish to break our treaty. Do you?”

  Griffin released himself from the travois. “Not at all. It was not my choice to break it.”

  “Yes, I can see that.” Paulina’s eyes challenged his. One ruler to another. “No shifter would allow himself to get so close to silver. Even if he wanted to fool a witch.”

  “You’re no fool,” Tristan said. “And if it’s all the same to you, we’ll be on our way.”

  Paulina’s gaze grew calculating. “And not take advantage of your host’s generosity?”

  “We’ve been away from our families a long time. We’d like to go home,” Snow said.

  As she turned, Paulina nodded. “Thank you for alerting me of the traitors in my own house. There may be more cleansing before there is peace again.”

  “You’re not going to kill us?” Griffin asked.

  Paulina pursed her lips and contemplated her answer. “Not this time,” she said with a dismissive wave. In a swirl of black feathers, she flew away.

  Chapter Nine

  Tristan

  “Do we push on for home?” he asked after their bellies were full. “It’s another three hours to town, but the sun will set in an hour.” Tristan didn’t want to leave their group. After their training and mission, he found it anticlimactic to separate.

  “Red needs to rest,” Snow offered, playing with the hem of her cloak. “But she may do better after a warm bath and rest in her own bed.”

  “I’m feeling better,” Red said. Her color had improved. She patted her flat belly. “All I can think about now is hugging Mother, eating a full meal, and sleeping for a week.”

  Ruby stood up, groaning as she did so. “Grandmother’s house is less than an hour from here.” She ran her hands up and down her arms for warmth. “I’d like to head home.” She bit her lip as though loathe to say farewell to a bond that was forged in fire.

  Avery stood up, every bit the sheriff now that they were so close to Thistle Grove. “We will split up here, then.” His voice, too, was oddly sad. He bowed to Griffin. “By your leave, your Grace.”

  Griffin stood to his full, impressive height. He put his hand on Avery’s shoulder. “You bow to no man. You all risked your lives to rescue me. Our lives changed today.

  “From this day forward, we are one. Brothers and sisters in arms.” Griffin held his right hand out, and each member of their party touched it.

  “On this journey, we have come together as one. We have
saved our world from the dangers beyond the river. From this day forward, our life forces are joined for a common purpose: to save the troubled and to aid the endangered. We were not born on the same day, of the same mother, or at the same time. And yet out of many, one was created. May all the Gods of Heaven and Earth attest to what is in our hearts. If any dare betrays our friendship, may heaven and the people of the earth strike us dead.”

  “Aye.” Tristan’s voice was quiet and full of emotion.

  “Forever.” Snow nodded.

  One by one, the relationship and trust formed in a battle deep within Spellthrower Territory became the Brotherhood of the Cave.

  Ruby and Avery nodded once to their friends before leaving. This was not goodbye. All would be well come the morning.

  “We need to hide the gold.” Griffin pulled the pouch from around his neck. Tristan nodded in agreement, and the two men sat across from each other, the fire flickering between them.

  “Where should we go?”

  “Do you remember that time we were children? When Father and Mother found us playing a game in the woods.” Griffin smiled at the memory. He closed his eyes.

  Tristan grinned. “Yes. That’s a perfect place.” His eyes drifted shut. Soon the men watched while images of their childhood played out before them.

  Griffin’s bear splashed in the water, too excited at the prospect of being young in a world alive with scents.

  “You’ll never catch any fish that way.” Their father’s voice rang strong. A man intent on raising his sons to adulthood.

  Suddenly, Tristan was five years old again sitting beside his father. Smiling with near hero-worship. Mother was there. Pointing out the kaleidoscope of summer colors as a butterfly fluttered by on a wind. He lost himself in the beautiful contralto of birds, the allegro of insects, and the random chattering from a squirrel.

  A moment in time when chaos and crisis paused, a memory pressed between the pages of a forgotten day. They were all so young. Life was as full of promise as a rose in bud.