Behind Rapunzel, a light blue butterfly rose into the air, and, with an unnatural sense of terror, Snow White watched it land upon Rapunzel's shoulder. Rushing forward, she raised the fern, but, before she got to them, Cinderella plucked the butterfly from Rapunzel's dress, her own eyes clouding for a moment, before she crushed it in her hand.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The Herald
There were voids in the clutter, and the dwarves' largest sacks were gone, when Snow White returned to the cabin, so she knew they had gone off in the quickly-drying forest to exchange some of their spoils for the ill-gotten goods of other forest thieves.
Having done a less-than-thorough job in their cleaning, the dwarves' beds still looked a wreck of mud and dripping rainwater, and Snow White started over to ready them for the coming night. Halfway, she wondered what Cinderella would do if she returned to discover the dwarves had done only half the work that needed doing, knowing only they would suffer the consequences, and a flare of something like rebellion drew Snow White's feet to a stop. If the dwarves wanted clean beds for the night, she thought, they should have finished cleaning them, and the notion brought an unexpected smile to her lips.
Though it was still hours from retiring in the sky, the sun had begun its descent behind the mountain, and Snow White filled the lanterns, placing them as dusk drew near.
Wet tendrils clinging to her face, she climbed the ladder to change into her lightest sleeping gown, knowing well that Esteban would spend the evening trying to see through it, but that there was nothing else to wear. She thought to have many more days of winter and early spring in which to sew more seasonal attire, or in which the dwarves would have time to steal it.
Not expecting Cinderella and Rapunzel to be in a hurry, Snow White still cast her eyes to the door repeatedly as she spread her parchments and coals over the table. They had seen her as far as the base of the mountain, knowing she could find her way from there, before heading off into the forest alone. Fearful of what might come to pass, Snow White did not like watching them go, but they promised they would return, together, before nightfall, and Snow White had no choice but to hope the lanterns at the windows would help her new friends find their way home.
Unrolling the sketches she had done over the days stuck in the cabin, she smiled at the one of Cinderella and Rapunzel, still more pleased with their likenesses than with any drawing she had ever done before it. For some time, she looked at the sketch, trying to determine what made it so striking, but the knock at the door paused her in-depth study, and she rushed to tell Cinderella and Rapunzel they needn't knock.
Startling back at the unexpected visitor standing at the door instead, Snow White thought to scream as the young man reached out, but the hand that touched her arm was gentle, not seizing her, but preventing her from falling.
"I am sorry," he said quickly, his voice thick with accent, eyes impossibly gentle upon Snow White's face. "I did not mean to startle you. Did I startle you?"
"No," Snow White lied, taking in his tailored appearance.
An army uniform, soft blue-gray, was perfectly fitted to his sturdy form, the triangle hat perched at the appropriate angle. Protruding from its side, a white feather indicated his high ranking, while the burgundy bandana tied around his face made him look a bandit, but did little to hide how handsome he must be beneath it. His eyes, they were the most deeply consuming Snow White had ever felt on her, even though, in the past, she had felt many people look long. And so eerily known to her. Staring into them, she wondered if she had not met the army herald somewhere before.
"I was just expecting someone else," she whispered.
"Ah. Friends?" the herald asked amiably, those eyes sparkling upon her, and Snow White knew, beneath the obscurity of the bandana, he wore a grin to match.
"Yes," she replied. "Friends."
"Will they be here soon?" the herald asked, and Snow White's hand tightened on the edge of the door.
"I never said they stayed here," she uttered.
"I assumed they must," the herald asserted without delay. "I trust you are not alone in the forest. It is a dangerous thing for a young woman to be alone out here."
The herald's gaze sweeping lower, Snow White remembered the thin gown and felt more on edge. "Are you looking for someone?" she asked.
"Some thing," the herald replied. "A royal relic, very valuable."
"You were sent from the castle?" Snow White questioned weakly. "Yet were asked only to seek a relic? It must be a very important relic."
"It is," the herald said at once. "It is of immeasurable value. What a strange girl you are, to ask such questions of authority."
"We are what life makes of us," Snow White uttered the words she had heard Cinderella say many times, and they gave the herald pause.
"Could I, perhaps, come in for a short rest?" he finally asked. "I have been walking all day, and it has gotten terribly stifling."
"I do not think that a good idea," Snow White returned.
"But I am a herald of the royal army," the man declared, clearly surprised at the refusal.
"Yes," Snow White nodded. "I recognize the uniform, but how do I know that is what you are truly?" She eyed the herald's low-pulled hat and bandana. "For I cannot see you. Take down the cover and reveal yourself."
"I cannot," the young man responded, his accent faltering.
"Why not?" Snow White asked, unusually unconvinced, unusually defiant, and not trusting a word from the stranger's mouth.
"I have a terrible scar," the herald replied. "It is from the war."
"Scars do not frighten me," Snow White uttered. "Strangers do."
"If you do not have the relic," the herald suddenly declared, "I shall be on my way. But, please, take this for your trouble."
Watching an apple rise on the herald's hand, it tempted Snow White with its perfection. Unbroken red skin unable to contain the heavenly scent, it crept around Snow White, infecting her senses.
"It has been no trouble." She tried to fight the sensation. Feeling much as she felt standing before the cottage of the witch that trapped Hansel and Gretel, Snow White knew it must be a trick.
"It is the finest in the kingdom." The herald's voice was as seductive as the apple. "And the last of the season, I should imagine, with the sudden spring upon us. Here, taste."
When the herald held the apple up to Snow White, she leaned forward unconsciously, lips brushing the perfect skin, before she realized what she was doing and determinedly pulled back.
"Taste it!" The herald's voice turned dangerous and he lunged into the cabin, fingertips on the back of Snow White's neck holding her captive as the apple rose once more to her lips.
There was a moment of panic, of fear, in which Snow White recognized the danger, in which she tried to struggle, but eyes held spellbound by the herald's, by the oddly tender caress on the back of her neck, she felt no desire stronger than the desire to taste and sunk her teeth into the dark red skin.
At once, the herald's face changed before her eyes, and Snow White's sudden gulp sent the bite hurtling down her throat. Reaching for the bandana that hid the herald from view, her fingertips dragged over soft skin to reveal the face of the queen, the last thing she saw and felt before blackness came once more upon her.
· · ·
Stumbling back as Snow White crumpled to the floor, Queen Ino caught herself on the doorframe, trying to draw breath. When she answered the door, Snow White looked the same girl, but how quickly that girl had changed, and the queen had been unprepared.
The simple magic that once felled Snow White so easily required a great deal of real power to back it up, and, standing over her stepdaughter, the queen realized she was utterly depleted. It had required such effort to overcome Snow White's defiance, it had pulled the magic from the queen's very face.
Stepping precariously over Snow White, Queen Ino picked up the glass from which the girl had been drinking and took a mouthful of something that left a scorching trail d
own her throat as she collapsed heavily into a tiny chair.
She needed only a breath, a drink, a moment of restoration. No, she thought, eyes catching on a parchment on the table. Motivation, that was what she needed. Fingers trembling as she pulled the drawing closer, the queen stared at the likenesses of the two girls - Cinderella and Rapunzel. Captured with stunning accuracy on the page, the image did not just show the truth of their faces, but in their eyes, which looked upon each other with something so real, it seized the queen's breath. It occurred to her how little stock she had ever put into Snow White's talents, and the thought only made her feel weaker.
An aggravated voice pulling her attention, the queen stood with care and made her way to the window, watching the residents of the cabin emerge through the trees. Trying to conjure an ounce of strength, she had none from which to draw. The stone, she wore around her neck, but without blood the stone was nothing, and she had no blood left to spare, nor time to use that of Snow White.
Watching them approach, the queen realized with some embarrassment she could not even defeat seven dwarves. Pulling the bandana back over her face, and the hat lower across her brow, Queen Ino spared a last lingering glance at Snow White before wrenching the door open and rushing into the fleeting evening.
· · ·
"Hey!" Big Papa shouted as he watched a stranger run from their cabin, but the stranger did not stop and he knew his legs would never catch the long strides of the fleeing bandit.
Turning instead toward the cabin, Big Papa wondered what the stranger had come to take. Their home!, he thought. Their loot! Their...
"Snow White," he heard Baby G utter as he reached the door.
Pushing the dwarves aside, Big Papa stepped past them into the cabin, eyes coming to rest on Snow White's unmoving form.
"What's wrong with her?" Mo asked in a whisper.
"Well, I suspect she had a..." Big Papa began authoritatively, keeping his distance from the unmoving girl. "Clearly, she has a sleeping... needing... sleep... need. Clearly."
"She is not moving," Baby G said with a sniff.
"Is that right?" Chauncy threw an aggravated hand into the air. "You must be a smart one to have noticed that."
"Be quiet, Chauncy," Big Papa said, taking the smallest steps he could in Snow White's direction, wondering how close he would have to get to see if she would move, as the others huddled together in the door way.
Almost within touching distance, Big Papa reached out. Another tiny step forward. One baby step more.
"Why are we standing in the door?"
Jumping to twice his height, Big Papa screamed with the rest of the dwarves, but tried to appear unflustered as he looked back to find Cinderella jostling the dwarves aside. Tripping over Esteban's feet, Sponk fell to the floor as Cinderella and Rapunzel rushed passed them.
"What happened?" Cinderella asked, dropping to her knee next to Snow White.
"We found her this way," Big Papa answered.
"Yeah," Esteban added. "Where were you?"
"Us?" Cinderella countered. "Where were you?"
"You were supposed to be with her."
"You were supposed to be here."
"We were working."
"Oh. Is that what you call it?"
"If you had stayed with her," Esteban declared, "she would be all right."
"We saved her the first time, remember?" Cinderella countered.
"What were you two doing off alone in the forest anyway?" he demanded.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Cinderella bit out, and Esteban growled at her.
"Stop, please," Rapunzel wearily pleaded, her hand resting upon Cinderella's arm. When Cinderella relented at once, Big Papa wondered how the girl had such power that she always seemed capable of calming the beast within Cinderella. "There does not appear to be anything wrong with her."
Hand resting upon Snow White's heart, Cinderella leaned close to her light blue lips. "She is not dead," she said, and Big Papa risked a step closer to see for himself.
"She is not exactly alive either," Rapunzel uttered, gently shaking Snow White's shoulder as if she might be woken as simply as from sleep.
"If she is not alive, she cannot stay in here," Big Papa firmly stated.
"Where do you suggest she go?" Disbelief darkened Cinderella's tone.
"We will build her a bed outside," he offered, nodding. "A safe one, with sides and a top to protect her. She can sleep there."
"A bed with sides and a top?" Cinderella scoffed. "That is a coffin. She is not dead."
"We will give it air holes," Mo assured Cinderella, but Cinderella looked decidedly unassured.
With a small laugh, her head shook. "She honestly believed you her friends," she said, and Big Papa felt the affront like a punch to his belly.
"Friends build their not-alive friends coffins, Girl. They do not live with them," he argued. "But if you two would like to take her somewhere else." He gestured the way. "You are welcome to Snow White and the door."
The look of anger that flashed through Cinderella's eyes made Big Papa worry he might be the one to go through the door, but glancing across Snow White at Rapunzel, Cinderella at last nodded her concession.
"Very well then," Big Papa stated. "Now that's settled, let us get to work."
· · ·
On the rise behind the cottage, Snow White lay as still in the coffin as the dwarves slid the lid atop it as she had on the cabin floor.
"It is made of glass," Esteban stated.
"So that is what the translucency is all about," Cinderella countered, but she had no vigor to give him, and he must have realized it, because he said nothing in return.
"She is so afraid of the phantoms of the forest," Rapunzel said softly, leaning into Cinderella's shoulder.
"She will not know they are there," Cinderella whispered past the tightness in her throat.
"Well, that is that," Big Papa declared, taking a deep breath and patting his hands together as if he just finished any ordinary chore, before turning to face them.
"I suppose you should like us to leave," Cinderella said quietly, meeting Big Papa's gaze, Rapunzel's hand in her own the only thing that felt at all real.
"I, uh..." Big Papa grunted and looked around the darkening wood. "I suppose this late hour is not the time for such a trip." He puffed out his chest. "You can leave tomorrow."
Spinning on his heel, he led the dwarves down the slope to the cabin, and, glancing toward Snow White, still and alone in the coffin, Cinderella clutched more tightly to Rapunzel's hand as they followed the dwarves back inside.
While Chauncy and Mo pushed the door closed at their backs, Cinderella dropped down next to Rapunzel at the table, staring at the wood top for some time, before two bowls of lumpy, strangely-colored porridge and two glasses of weakly-brewed tea slid across the table toward them.
Looking up at the dwarves gathered on the other side of the table, Cinderella tried but failed to smile, as she watched Rapunzel's hand slide across the table to give Sponk's hand a gentle squeeze. "Thank you," she said softly, and the dwarves nodded before settling down with them to eat.
It was only later, lying in the darkness with Rapunzel's weight against her, an anomalous silence cloaking the room, that it occurred to Cinderella the dwarves had finally demonstrated true kindness and Snow White was not there to see.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Together
Cinderella sat hunched, elbows resting on her knees, ginger hair shielding her face as her eyes locked on tufts of grass, still brown and brittle from winter's hold. The pine stump was rock-hard beneath her, but, for hours, she had not moved, accepting the discomfort as due penance.
It had been two days, two mornings in which Big Papa announced what time the dwarves would be home instead of telling them it was time to go, effectively ending the discussion as to whether Cinderella and Rapunzel would leave the dwarves' cabin. Two days, and Snow White still lay half-dead in the coffin.
Straightenin
g, Cinderella winced at the snaps, crackles and pops that traveled down her spine, and glanced to Snow White, eyes protesting as light glared off the glass. Turning to find the source, she found nothing but trees at her back, until, eyes roaming upward more in curiosity than anticipation, her gaze stopped on the great sphere that dotted the gap between two towering oaks.
It was too early in the season for a sun so high and warm and bright in the sky. It did not belong there. But, then, she was coming to recognize, neither did she.
Upon Rapunzel's approach moments later, Cinderella was aware of the presence at her back before Rapunzel spoke.
"Keeping vigil is not going to change anything." Her soft voice carried through the clearing.
"We should have stayed with her," Cinderella whispered.
"What would we have done?" Rapunzel reasonably asked.
Shaking her head in response to the question, Cinderella dropped her chin into her hand, knowing there was no answer. Behind her, she could hear Rapunzel moving, and, a moment later, she was there before her, sinking down into the grass, the fig, tomato and leather pouch in her hands dropping to the ground at her sides.
"The queen clearly has some power," Rapunzel said, gentle fingers reaching out to comb through Cinderella's hair. "If she was intent on Snow White..."
"What if it was not the queen?" Cinderella cut her off quietly, and watched words fail Rapunzel.
"What do you mean?" she finally returned weakly.
"You know what I mean," Cinderella uttered. "You said it yourself. Dreamt it." At the instantaneous shake of Rapunzel's head, Cinderella powered on, as much as she wanted to forget her own thoughts. "Where did those butterflies come from? Who sent them? Why did they come for us?"
"Perhaps, we were just in the wrong place..."
"And the pouch in Naxos?" Cinderella argued. "Falling from the tree, only for an entire guard to be lying in wait?"
"That trap could have been for anyone," Rapunzel whispered.
"But it was not for anyone," Cinderella returned. "That trap was for me. As the prince came for me with such determination. As Prince Salimen came for you."
Black Forest: Kingdoms Fall (Black Forest Trilogy) Page 18