"Should we see where it comes from?" Snow White questioned distractedly, and Rapunzel's gaze slid away. Following her eyes to Snow White, Cinderella found her far less frightened and far more curious, as she took a few exploratory steps in the direction from which the delectable scent seemed to be coming.
"Would you like to?" Cinderella returned, risking another glance at Rapunzel's flushed cheeks as she reached for her hand, feeling Rapunzel press against her side, knowing she did so with greater intention than before.
When Snow White nodded brightly, Cinderella was glad to see a real smile upon her face. "Lead the way," she encouraged, nearly jumping from her skin when Rapunzel stole a clandestine touch as they turned to follow.
· · ·
With nothing but the smell to guide them, it took some time to find the place that belonged to the delightful aroma, but, eventually, they emerged from a patch of trees into a small clearing that had a charming cottage sitting center.
It was no wonder, Cinderella realized, the air smelled so saccharine sweet. Not just a baker cooking up treats, the house itself was a delicacy. Walls crafted of gingerbread sat temptingly topped by an iced pastry roof. The windows were not made of wood or glass, but of pure sugar crystals. Against the side of the house, and filling its window boxes, the bushes and flowers grew in an assortment of candies that made Cinderella lick her lips.
"How would one build such a house?" Rapunzel asked, leaning eagerly toward the giant treat.
"Will the animals not eat it?" Snow White sounded hungry as she asked.
"There may be no animals in this kingdom," Cinderella returned, though it was only through strength of will that she was not already face-deep in the roses that looked to be made of pure chocolate.
"Shall we knock?" Rapunzel queried, her stomach giving a long, loud rumble for emphasis.
Before Cinderella or Snow White could reply, the door of the cottage opened and they rushed to hide, their scuttling and subsequent clamor only serving to draw attention, Cinderella was certain, as they all chose the same tree and crashed into each other.
"Move over."
"Ow. That's my leg."
"Shh. They will hear us."
Trapped between Rapunzel before her and Snow White at her back, Cinderella discovered the tree trunk they hid behind smaller than it appeared and tried to squeeze herself as narrow as possible, wishing she had not taken so readily to bodice-free living once more.
"I have already heard you," a girl's voice called out to them, and Cinderella let out an uneasy breath. "And I see you," the voice added much to her dismay. "Please come out. It has been many years since my brother or I have seen another person."
Determining there was no choice in the matter, Cinderella rested her hand upon Rapunzel's hip as she slid out from between Rapunzel and Snow White, motioning for them to stay hidden. For the voice had sounded without threat, but so had the voice of Snow White's stepmother when she had come to the dwarves' cabin to kill Snow White.
Watching a smile appear on the face of the girl who owned the voice, Cinderella was surprised to find she was no more than a child, at least five years her junior.
"Hansel," the girl called back into the cottage. "Come quickly. We have visitors."
Rushing from somewhere inside, the voice of a young man carried through the door. "Visitors!" he shouted, appearing next to the girl, a grin coming wide and toothy to his face, but for the teeth that were missing.
A few years older than his sister, the boy had the same complexion and dirty yellow hair. Watching him rest his arm across the girl's shoulders, Cinderella felt a measure of ease at the honesty of their affection and waved Rapunzel and Snow White out of hiding.
"I knew I had seen more of you," the girl said with a clap upon seeing them.
"Is there anyone else here?" Cinderella questioned.
"No," the boy responded. "It is only Gretel and I."
"You live here alone?" Rapunzel asked, fingers curving around Cinderella's arm.
"Now," the girl responded. "The witch who once kept us here has gone."
"If the witch has gone, why do you stay?" Snow White questioned. "Have you no family?"
"We did once," Hansel sadly replied. "We lost our way back to them many years ago, and now we cannot leave."
"Of course, you can leave," Cinderella replied. "Perhaps, we could help you find your family."
"No," Hansel shook his head.
"Why not?" she asked.
"This is why," Gretel said, and dashed suddenly toward them. Worried it was an attack, Cinderella stepped before Rapunzel and Snow White, whirling with them as Gretel ran past and vanished into the trees.
"See." The voice snapped their eyes back to the cabin, and Rapunzel gasped at Cinderella's side.
Once again, Gretel stood in the doorway, as if they had not watched her run from the cottage a moment before.
"How did you..." Cinderella breathed, and Gretel gave a weighted shrug.
"We run and we return," she said. "It does not matter how fast or which way, we always end up here."
"You are trapped," Rapunzel whispered, and Cinderella slid her hand over Rapunzel's where it rested at her elbow as Hansel and Gretel nodded in response.
"What holds you here?" she asked.
"It is the spell of the witch that keeps us from leaving," Gretel replied. "That keeps us alone."
Burdened at once by the deep sadness that shown in Hansel and Gretel's heavy gazes, Cinderella bristled just as quickly at the broad grin that suddenly split Hansel's face. "Would you like to eat with us?" he invited, and his sister's wide eyes turned to him.
"Yes, please," she added with the same coaxing grin. "There is more than enough to share. Taste anything you would like. It is all good for eating."
"This here is brittle," Hansel further encouraged, breaking off a piece of a flower box and biting it in half. "You will not taste its equal."
Eyes locked upon the brittle Hansel held out in offering, Cinderella clung to Rapunzel, unaware of Snow White's approach of the cottage until she heard a crunch and watched the light pink petal of a candy flower break off in Snow White's hand.
"Do not eat that!" Cinderella cried, rushing forward to knock the petal from her hand and dragging Snow White away from temptation, eyes unforgiving as they watched the disappointment set in on Hansel and Gretel's faces. "The spell of the witch," she questioned. "How does one fall under it exactly?"
When Hansel and Gretel looked to each other, shame dropping their heads, anger flared in Cinderella's chest.
"You tried to trick us," she declared, taking in the house's delicacies, far less desirable now that she recognized them as snares. "If you had eaten that," she added quietly to Snow White, "you would have been trapped too."
Eyes spilling over with panic, Snow White brushed her hands together to remove residual traces of the cottage, and Cinderella took Snow White's elbow, ensuring she stayed with them as she led Rapunzel away.
"Please!" Gretel called out. "Please. We are just so alone."
Glancing back, in spite of her simmering anger, Cinderella could not ignore the honest tears that streamed down the girl's face.
"We try to be brave. But when the storms come and the ghouls tap at the windows, we are so afraid. Please, will you not stay?"
The desperation in their eyes, as they stared out from their captivity, was almost convincing. "No." Cinderella shook her head. "We will not stay. We will try to help you. We will look for your mother."
On a sob, Gretel's shoulders drooped, and Hansel put his arm around her in comfort. "Our mother is dead," he said.
"Yours too?" Snow White took a step forward, and Cinderella clutched her arm.
"Yours?" Gretel asked, glancing up with a sniff.
"Yes, and hers." Snow White tilted her head toward Cinderella.
"What about your mother?" Hansel asked Rapunzel.
"She locked me in a tower," Rapunzel replied.
"Oh," Hansel awkwardly returned
, and, for a moment, silence lingered in the clearing.
"What about your father?" Cinderella questioned. "Where is he?"
"He led us to these woods," Hansel responded. "He cared more for his new wife than he did for us."
The story achingly familiar, Cinderella closed her eyes against its pull.
"Perhaps, we could stay just one night," Rapunzel whispered, and Cinderella shook her head. She refused to let Rapunzel move from one prison to another.
"They tried to trick us once," she declared. "They will do it again."
"We will not. We swear we will not!" Gretel cried out, and Hansel nodded his promise.
"I do not believe you," Cinderella replied gently, knowing well what she might have done at their ages to keep someone who might actually care for her near. "But I will find a way to help you. I promise."
"You lie!" Gretel screamed. "You can leave, so you will leave, and you will never come back!"
Whirling away from her brother, Gretel rushed into the depths of the cottage, and Cinderella took a step forward, taking it back at once when she felt the witch's spell try to lure her in.
After watching his sister's retreat, Hansel turned back to Cinderella, his eyes dark and untrusting. "We do not believe you either," he said, and two honey drops shook free from a window ledge as the door of the cottage slammed shut.
· · ·
Cinderella had not spoken since they started back to Aulis. Glancing to her mouth set in a firm line, her cheeks reddened with frustration, Snow White could tell, though it had been Cinderella's idea to leave Hansel and Gretel alone at the cottage, it was far from easy for her.
Not knowing what to say to make her feel better, Snow White took in the surrounding forest, still amazed at the events of the day. Such a brief time ago, she believed there was only Aulis and the demi-kingdoms over which her father had rule. Now, she did not only know of other kingdoms, she stood in one, so close to her own it was no more than a walk away, but separate somehow from the world she knew.
Seeing something move from the corner of her eye, Snow White turned instantly toward it, on-guard since the cottage, where she had come too close to indulging in its temptations and falling under a witch's spell.
Upon spotting the burst of color in the sky, her apprehension lessened at once, and she glanced over at Rapunzel's amazed laugh to see even Cinderella's face produce its first near-smile since they left the sweet cottage.
The swarm of butterflies approaching, a patchwork of blues and oranges and reds and purples, it was almost peaceful, almost calming, as if the universe worked to give them a moment of joy amidst their worries. Letting them land upon her arms and dress and hair, with the suddenness of a collision, Snow White did not feel relieved at all, but furious. She blamed them, she decided at once, especially Cinderella, for everything, from almost getting trapped with Hansel and Gretel to the queen's attempts on her life.
Glancing to them again, Snow White's mouth flicked up in a gratified snarl as she watched Rapunzel snap free from Cinderella, as if she too realized Cinderella was to blame for everything bad that had happened to her.
"I think you wanted to leave them alone," Snow White felt urged to say, and Cinderella turned to her, looking every bit as irritated as Snow White felt.
"I saved you from your own stupidity," Cinderella countered. "You are far too dense not to have gotten trapped there on your own."
"At least she is educated," Rapunzel laughed, and Cinderella looked back as if in surprise.
"You do not even care that they have to fend for themselves," Snow White accused.
"What would you know about fending for yourself, Princess?" Cinderella shot back.
"And what would you know about it?" Rapunzel cut in, and Cinderella spun to face Rapunzel, fists clenching at her thighs. "You were willing to become a slave not to have to fend for yourself."
With a flourish of wings around her, Snow White felt instantly lighter, better, less burdened, not so hungry for a fight.
"At least I recognized my captivity," Cinderella declared, "and did not think it love."
"Ah, yes," Rapunzel returned, as the butterflies that abandoned Snow White landed upon her hair and dress, covering her in color. "But how you rushed back into captivity when you did believe it love."
The last of the butterflies lifting off her shoulders, Snow White felt faint as they flew to Cinderella and Rapunzel. It was most unusual behavior for butterflies, she thought, when she could once again think clearly, and she watched them hover and land upon Cinderella and Rapunzel's shoulders, moving back and forth between them as if they were two plants in a garden, bursting with nectar.
"Well, at least I did not just wait for the first person to come along," Cinderella uttered. "If it had not been me, it would have been the prince. You would be married to him now."
"Yes, I would be." Rapunzel took a step toward Cinderella, contempt written across her face in visible lines. "Imagine the fanfare. Imagine my palace. Imagine how nice it would be not to have come out of a cow, not to live with seven little men, not to have to pretend what I pretend to feel for you."
"Wait, I..." The words sounded like evil lies in Snow White's ears. "You should not be saying such things."
"You pretend?" Cinderella scoffed. "Please. The way you hang off my arm, it is as if you need help just to walk. It is pathetic."
Butterflies rising from Cinderella in a sudden swell, they swarmed Rapunzel, landing and floating around her. Distracted as they were by their anger, though, neither Rapunzel nor Cinderella took notice.
"How could I care for you?" Rapunzel replied, the butterflies piling upon her. "You care for no one but yourself. You have done this. You have broken the barriers between the kingdoms. You have destroyed everything. If you had only married the prince as you were meant, you would not have ended up in my kingdom, and I would live in a castle right now. If you truly wanted to do me a service, Cinderella, you should have left me in that tower."
Even as the butterflies swelled again, landing back upon her, Cinderella had nothing to say. She opened her mouth, but no sound came forth. From the look upon her face, Snow White thought Rapunzel may have stolen all the words Cinderella had left.
Where such hatred had been an instant before, Cinderella's eyes overflowed with sudden tears, and, turning away, Cinderella rushed into the woods, the butterflies that made an effort to cling to her losing their hold as she weaved between the trees and out of sight. When Rapunzel gave a victorious grin, Snow White could not recognize her as the same girl who appeared at the dwarves' cabin those nights before.
Regrouping in the air, the butterflies came back for Snow White, and she could sense the wickedness they carried as she rushed from their attack. Scooping a fern leaf from the forest floor, she swatted them away, watching some fall to the ground with broken wings as others evaded the sweep of the fern.
"What are you doing, you idiot?" Rapunzel turned on her suddenly, the devil insects still clinging to her everywhere, and Snow White swatted Rapunzel hard, watching rage rise into her eyes. A growl rumbling past her lips, Rapunzel lunged at her, but Snow White pummeled her with the heavy fern, sending Rapunzel reeling to the forest floor and the butterflies into flight around her.
Anger suddenly sincere, Snow White smashed butterflies against trees and trampled those that fell at her feet, shoving Rapunzel to the ground when she attempted to rise.
"I am going to hurt you when I get up," Rapunzel promised, but Snow White trusted there was only one reason Rapunzel would hurt her and continued to sweep the butterflies away.
Grabbing the last two butterflies from Rapunzel's hair, Snow White threw them to the ground and stomped the life from them, at last letting Rapunzel stand at her will. If she was wrong, she knew, she would be using the fern as a weapon against a girl she believed her friend, and, as Rapunzel whirled toward her, face scratched and bleeding, Snow White fell two steps back, holding the fern between them like a shield.
Stumbling tow
ard her, Rapunzel did not attack, but caught herself on a tree, eyes blinking and clearing as confusion passed over her face. Then awareness. Then remorse so profound Snow White could feel it.
"Oh, no." Rapunzel went deathly pale. "No, no, no, no."
Hand going to her stomach as if she might be sick, Rapunzel dashed off in the direction Cinderella had fled, and Snow White ran after her, fern leaf clutched firmly in hand.
Rushing into a clearing, she ran almost smack into Rapunzel, who stood so still, Snow White suspected, if left like that for too long, she would become part of the forest, her feet sinking into the earth as the vines grew up around her.
On the bank of a stream, Cinderella lay on her side, one arm crooked beneath her head, the other clutching the grass before her as sobs moved through her in violent waves. Shocked to see Cinderella weep that way, for she always seemed so strong, Snow White dropped her own defenses, the fern leaf dangling in her hand as Rapunzel cautiously approached Cinderella.
"Cin," she whispered, placing her hand upon Cinderella's back, and Cinderella flinched away, trying at once to get up. Sliding to her knees behind her, Rapunzel captured Cinderella, arms snaking around her chest to prevent her escape. "I did not mean it."
"You sounded like you meant it," Cinderella said.
"I know," Rapunzel admitted on a sob. "But I did not." Releasing Cinderella just enough to turn her around, Rapunzel met her gaze. "You know I did not. You know I do not feel that way."
"I do not know what you feel." Cinderella shook her head, sending tears splattering against her cheeks. "I know only what you say."
Stilling Cinderella's face with her hands, Rapunzel kissed her with such force, Snow White thought it must hurt, but Cinderella seemed only to melt into her, her hands going to Rapunzel's hair to hold her close.
"You know what I feel." Rapunzel pulled back, pressing Cinderella's hand to her heart. "You have to trust in that. You have to believe me."
Black Forest: Kingdoms Fall (Black Forest Trilogy) Page 17