by Danielle Monsch, Cate Rowan, Jennifer Lewis, Jeannie Lin, Nadia Lee, Dee Carney
“My queen.” He stood, his head bowed. “I will not fail.”
“See that you don’t. Now get out of my sight. She has too much of a lead already.” Foolish girl, running out in the middle of Hilde’s ball last night. It was embarrassing. “Huntsman.” He halted, his back to her. “See that she suffers. I will know if you disobey.”
“Yes, my queen.”
She watched him stride out of the throne room. Oh, he was proud, but once Snow White was dead, she planned to break him. Simply the thought cheered her.
Now that she was alone, she stood, adjusted the waist length golden hair that was her pride, and slipped through the door hidden behind the decorative curtain hanging on the wall.
“I am here, mirror. Show me. Show me Snow White.” She moved to stand in front of her enchanted mirror. Her reflection, a woman in her bloom, beautiful and flawless, stared back at her as she waited, impatient, for her contrary mirror to answer. “Show me!”
“As you wish, oh, beautiful one.” Sarcasm edged the hollow voice. Hilde ignored it, as she always did. “See what is, and not what you desire.”
The surface wavered, Hilde’s reflection disappeared—and a scene replaced it. A scene that made her smile.
Snow White struggled through the new snow that blanketed the forest at the base of the cliff. She glanced up, her face beautiful, even with her dark hair snarled and wet. It enraged Hilde, as it did every time she caught a glimpse of the girl.
That would not be a problem for long.
The huntsman was stalking her, his poor besotted heart probably breaking with every step. And if he failed her, she had a secret weapon. A weapon that would guarantee Snow White’s death.
*
The huntsman had found her.
Over her ragged breathing, Snow White heard his boots, crunching through the deep snow. Her gown left a wide and visible trail behind her, the heavy blue velvet dragging at her with every step as it soaked up the melting snow.
She would not outrun him. That fact didn’t stop her from trying. She lifted her wet skirts higher and stumbled forward.
With her father missing for more than two years now, Hilde had taken over, making decisions without Snow’s knowledge. When Snow confronted her, Hilde claimed that she did not want to burden Snow with the petty details of running the kingdom. Too late, Snow realized that she was one of the petty details. The “accidents” that had begun to plague her the last few months began to make terrible sense. Losing Tarek to her stepmother was just another painful blow—
She let out a startled cry as the path disappeared under her feet.
Her skirts tangled around her as she rolled down a steep hill, and landed face first in the snow. When she blinked her eyes clear, she found herself staring at boots. Several pairs of boots, sturdy, worn, big.
Afraid she already knew who wore them, she lifted her head.
Dark brown eyes stared at her. Snow forced herself to stare back, despair weighting her heart. Thieves roamed this forest—Tarek had warned her about them, before she stopped trusting him. She did know they preyed on travelers, and were especially hostile toward anyone who might even smell like nobility.
She was doomed.
*
“She’s one of them, from up to the castle.” The angry voice had Snow scooting backward—until she trapped herself against the base of the steep hill that sent her down here. The voice’s owner strode over to her, tall, thin, and younger than she expected. “How much do you think she’s worth?”
“Plenty, with that much velvet on her.”
The men surrounded her, wrapped in furs, what clothing she could see ragged and patched.
“She’s terrible pretty, Dak.” The young man looked over at who was clearly the leader. He had the presence, and the arrogance, in his strong face. “I say we take her home first, before we go asking for ransom.”
Snow spoke before she lost her nerve. “She will not pay you for me.”
The man called Dak leaned in, his burnished club tilting up her chin. “Who is this she, little one?”
Snow swallowed. If she told them, she had no chance.
“Please, just let me go,” she whispered.
He stilled, dark brown eyes intent. The other men crowded next to him, staring at her as if she had spoken a foreign language. He lowered his club, and crouched in front of her. She fought the need to recoil.
“Say that again.”
“Please. I only want to pass.”
“Your kind doesn’t usually know the meaning of please.”
Snow couldn’t help herself; she smiled at the disgruntled tone. “My kind can be unbearably rude.” The men grumbled among themselves, several of them nodding. “I like to think I am not one of them.”
“You dress like one of them.”
Snow used the steep hill to stand. She doubted she could outrun any of them, but if she found a chance she would try.
“I dress like myself, normally.” She stared down at the blue velvet gown, with its overblown skirt and heavy underskirts. “Had I tumbled at your feet any other day, you would hardly know me from the girls in the village.”
“Doubtful.” It wasn’t completely encouraging, but as least the single word didn’t carry the anger of his accusations. Perhaps she was getting through—
“Highness!”
The shout was still distant, but closer. Snow closed her eyes. Her fate had just been sealed.
Dak grabbed her arm. “That was you he’s calling for. Princess.”
“Please—” They surrounded her, muttering “princess” like it was a curse word. “I am not—”
He jerked her forward, his grip bruising. “You aren’t going anywhere, princess. Except with us.”
Before she could make a sound he threw her at the closest man. He caught her wrists in one big hand, tied them together with a rough length of wool. Dak tucked the club in his belt, then tossed her over his shoulder as if she weighed no more than a feather.
“Jessie, Nathan—watch our back. Someone’s following her, and I want to keep ahead of whoever it is.” He stopped next to the remaining thieves. “Arrow formation. I don’t want to lose anyone else, so keep your weapons close and pay attention to any sound.”
Snow couldn’t see what was happening in front of her, but the almost military tenor of his commands told her he was no ordinary thief—and that he cared about the men with him. She heard their footsteps fade, and Dak spoke to her, his voice low.
“You’re Snow White, aren’t you?” The anger was gone, his voice almost—gentle. “Gareth’s daughter.”
She closed her eyes. “Yes,” she whispered. “Did you—know my father?”
“I served with him, at the border. He was a good man, and a fair king. Not like the bitch who styles herself as queen.”
“I am not like her—”
He swung her to her feet, grabbing her shoulders. “She’ll want you back. You are the only positive on her side. The people hate her, but you—you’re a different story. I saw you when you were a child, after your father and I returned from the border conflicts.” His grip eased. “I wish I could let you go, princess, but the people in my care are starving, and you just became a bargaining tool.”
Before she could say anything he picked her up again and draped her over his shoulder, moving with her through the forest. Away from her pursuit, but also from any help she may have found.
*
Tarek reached the clearing, and the number of boot prints lodged his heart in his throat. The assassin had not found Snow, but she had been taken by a group almost as bad. The thieves haunting this forest and the surrounding countryside would try to ransom her back to Hilde. If that happened, she was as good as dead.
He knelt, studying the tracks. There were two sets; one headed back the way he just came, and belonged to the two men he easily avoided. The second set surprised him.
They fanned out into a familiar military point formation, what some of the soldiers he knew called
arrow, since the men formed a triangle similar to an arrowhead. The set in the middle—the protected position—was deeper, as if they carried extra weight.
“Snow,” he whispered, pushing to his feet and running silently after them. “I am right behind you.”
He only hoped he had time to convince her that he was not the queen’s lackey before she tried to escape him.
*
By the time they stopped, Snow was shivering, miserable, and so hungry her stomach hurt.
Dak lowered her, holding her when she swayed.
“I am sorry,” she said, her voice raw. “I have been on the move since last night.”
“Then you’ll be hungry.” He pulled half a loaf of bread out of his pack, and handed it to her. “It’s all I can offer you, princess.”
“And it is quite welcome.”
“Watch her. I want to do some scouting.”
Snow swallowed, watched him disappear into the trees. Dak had reasons not to harm her. The rest of his men did not.
She backed away, until her shoulder hit up against a tree. The six thieves paced her, almost as quiet as Tarek as they moved through the snow.
“Gentlemen.” She tried to smile, and failed miserably. “I don’t believe watching meant stalking and staring at me until I faint from hunger.”
“Go on, princess.” The hulking giant waved one hand at her. “We don’t mind watchin’ you eat.”
Since they all looked like they wanted to snatch the bread from her, she faced the tree, and took a bite. The bread was days old, and hard with it. But she figured it would be the only food she may get for a while, and gnawed on the softer innards, trying to keep the crumbs that poured over her hands from falling inside her bodice.
She was so intent on the bread she jumped when a warm hand closed over her shoulder.
Dak nodded to her, and gently turned her to face the others. “I found something of interest, princess. Something that makes you even more valuable to us.”
He pulled a heavy piece of parchment from his jacket and unfolded it. Snow’s heart started pounding when she recognized Hilde’s broad, overblown handwriting.
To My Subjects:
Snow White, the child of my heart, has been brutally murdered. It is only my grief that keeps me from appearing before you in person. I will hunt for her murderer, and I will not rest until he is found. To do this, I will be collecting a special tax. For your love of Snow White, I will expect you to contribute fully, and without hesitation.
Your Queen
She leaned against the tree, grateful for its support. Dak handed around the parchment, waiting as the other thieves read it, or had it read to them. The sounds they made were not encouraging. Dak waited until the parchment was returned to him, tucked it in his pocket, then looked at Snow.
“Why does she believe you’re dead?”
Snow sighed. “Because she sent someone to kill me.”
*
“You did what?”
The idiot who passed for an advisor cowered in front of Hilde.
“As you requested, my queen, I sent out the notice of Princess Snow White’s death.”
“That would be fantastic, Dren, except for one tiny detail.” Hilde rose from the gold throne and stalked down the steps, grabbing the front of his tunic. “She is not dead yet!”
“I—you—you told me it would be done by today. My queen,” he added, wiggling his way free. “I was following your specific orders—”
“Yes, Dren. Yes, you were. Another has failed me.” She swept past him and strode out of the throne room. “And he will pay. Dearly.”
The door barely closed behind her when she shouted at the mirror. “Show me!”
The mirror knew better than speak. The surface wavered, and cleared on a startling scene. A group of peasants, standing in the forest. Hilde moved closer—to be certain she was correct, not because her sight was defective. Yes, the vile girl was there, surrounded by the peasants. Still alive, still fresh, still beautiful.
“Where? Where is she? Damn you, show me where she is!”
“A thousand pardons, oh, beautiful one. She is protected, by a magic I cannot penetrate. All I can show you is that she lives.”
“I killed you once—I can do it again. Now show me!”
“All your threats will not change the impossible, oh, beautiful one.”
Hilde screamed, and threw the nearest object at the mirror. Her jewelry box hit the wavering surface—and disappeared.
“What did you do?” She lunged at the mirror, slamming into her reflection. “What did you do?”
“I did nothing, my queen. You threw the object when I was in transition.”
“Where did it go?” She slammed her fist into the glass. “Where?”
“Where true beauty resides.” The mirror paused, the sly tone that made Hilde furious slipping into its voice. “It followed Snow White.”
*
Dak crossed his arms, looking skeptical. “The queen is trying to kill you.”
“She used to be more subtle about it. But since I came of age, she has become—impatient. She cannot claim the throne while I’m alive, since I am the rightful heir. And she wants it, badly enough to turn people I trusted against me.”
“You were fleeing this person, when you—”
“Fell at your feet?” He smiled. “Yes. It is my father’s huntsman, Tarek.”
Dak frowned. “He’s loyal to your father.”
“He was, and my friend. But Hilde turned him, and I know his life will be forfeit if he doesn’t complete his mission.”
“I’m sorry for that, but you’re staying alive until I find out the truth, one way or the other.”
“But Dak.” The giant leaned in, his whisper louder than most people’s normal voice. “We’re goin’ to ransom her. Get a big cut for our families. Right?”
Dak sighed, and turned to the thieves. “Her father was my friend. Because I owe him my life, I’m going to help her.”
They started talking over each other, and the words she managed to pull out of the arguments were even less encouraging.
“Enough.” Dak’s voice silenced them. “I never told you before now, because it was part of my old life. I certainly never expected to run into his daughter, not as a thief in her forest. Now we can send her to the queen, with a ransom request, which will probably end with her dead, and us right along with her, or we can help her.”
He waited, hands on his hips. One by one, grumbling the entire time, each thief nodded. More than one shot a glance at her, most of them not happy glances.
“Then we’re agreed.” He moved to Snow. “Finished?”
She stared at the bread left in her bound hands, then at the other men, watching her like a band of hungry raccoons. Nodding, she gave the uneaten portion back to him, her stomach protesting.
“Yes.”
All we have to do now is elude your huntsman, and find a way to sneak you into the castle.”
“I may be able to help you there. It’s a day’s walk from here, though.”
Dak raised his hand, shut down the outraged mutters. “Tell me.”
“There is an old entrance to the castle, in the east side of the cliff. Not many know about it. Hilde isn’t one of them.”
“So there’s a possibility we can surprise her.”
“A faint, probably not possibility, but yes.”
Dak laughed, the sound warm and rich. “Now I see your father, princess.”
“Thank you.” He would never know how much those words meant to her. “I know you expect payment. It will be given, and with my gratitude, if you can deliver me to my home, in one piece, and preferably breathing.”
That statement took the frowns off most of the thieves. Shaking his head, Dak took her hands, and untied the length of wool that bound her. “You do know the quick way to a thief’s heart.”
“I believe, Dak, it will take a thief—seven of them to be exact—to sneak me inside my own castle.”
; “We will do our best, my motley crew and I.”
Snow pointed to the wool. “May I borrow that?”
He handed it to her, eyebrows raised. She quickly satisfied his curiosity when she used it to tie back her unruly hair.
“You know how to adapt, princess. Your father was the same. Now point the way, and we’ll be off.”
She smiled at him and obeyed. With a nod, Dak draped her over his shoulder again, and carried her deeper into the forest.
*
It was almost dark when Tarek found them.
Snow saw him first, only because she spent every other minute watching for him.
“Dak!”
He dropped her to the ground and shoved her at the other men, spinning to face Tarek. The whine of steel on steel stilled her heart. Dak pulled a sword.
She darted forward—and let out a shocked cry when strong arms caught her.
“You need to give him room, princess.” Nathan’s voice filtered through her panic.
“You don’t understand. Tarek will—”
“Dak was a soldier. He can hold his own.”
“But you don’t—”
Tarek swung his staff. Snow screamed a warning.
Dak blocked the staff, stumbling backward from the force of the blow. Surprise flashed across his face, but he recovered, and the other thieves moved to join him, staffs and clubs swinging. They had no chance against Tarek.
He ploughed through them, moving so quickly he was a blur. Nathan left her, jumping in to protect his friends. To Snow’s surprise, he held his own against Tarek’s lightning attack, his short staff blocking every thrust.
Then he stumbled.
“No!” Snow lunged forward and put herself between Tarek and his victim.
His eyes widened, and he shifted. Snow waited for the blow. She gave him the perfect opening to kill her, and call it an accident. Tarek’s staff slammed into the ground inches from her foot.
“Snow,” he whispered. With a low cry he dropped his staff and clutched his right arm, backing away from her.
She followed him, watched pain flash across his face. “Tarek?”
“You’re not safe, highness. I came to—”
“Kill me.”
“To warn you—” He doubled over his arm. Snow gripped his left arm as his knees hit the ground. “The queen has an assassin—waiting for you.”