Snow White and the Seven Dwarf Planets: A Space Age Fairy Tale (Star-Crossed Tales)

by J. M. Page

  They restarted their circuitous path, meandering through the bookshelves, looking for anything out of place, anything that might mean something.

  Out of the corner of his eyes, he kept seeing movement. The librarian reshelving books. Nothing to worry about, he told himself.

  But by the end of the fourth long line of bookshelves, he was sure they were being followed.

  He leaned down, his lips nearly brushing the shell of Snow’s ear as he whispered, “Don’t look now Princess, but we have company.”

  She jumped at his voice and turned her head slightly, but he squeezed her hand tight to stop her. “I said don’t look,” he hissed.

  “What do we do?” she whispered back.

  “Just act natural.”

  They adopted a strange path that backtracked and crisscrossed over the library, but everywhere they went, the librarian wasn’t far behind. After almost an hour of this, still acting like she was merely reshelving books, the librarian acknowledged them.

  “Is there something I can help you find?” she asked, her voice nearly hoarse from neglect.

  Snow straightened her shoulders, giving Hunter a look that said she would handle it. “Oh, we’ve just heard so many people talking about how magnificent and awe-inspiring this place is. We couldn’t pass up a visit ourselves,” she said.

  The librarian narrowed her eyes. Close up, she was older than Hunter would have guessed. Maybe old enough to be either of their mothers. Her bright yellow eyes roamed over Snow’s shawl and their generally unkempt appearance. There hadn’t been much chance for showering or laundry. His ship wasn’t really built for long hauls.

  The librarian took another step closer, now within arm’s reach. “It is you, isn’t it?” she whispered, letting out a supersonic squeal.

  Snow’s eyes went wide and she slowly shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I mean… I thought it was you, but I wasn’t sure. What are the odds, right? Here of all places. But hearing your voice… You’re her, aren’t you? The Princess.” A grin split her face and Snow took a step back, shuffling, trying to come up with something to say but failing.

  Hunter reached behind his back, casually going for his blaster. They did not come this far to be outed by a librarian.

  “Don’t worry,” she added quickly, still beaming. “I won’t tell. I just can’t believe you’re here!” She stopped and looked around, peering over the balcony and finding the rest of the place as empty as it had been before they arrived. “Why are you here? Don’t you have better things to do? Like… take down you-know-who? We’re all rooting for you, you know. That trash on the vidscreens… No one believes it. We’re not as dumb as she wants to believe.”

  Hunter let his hand fall. “We should go,” he said, reaching for Snow and pulling her toward the stairs. But she pulled back, her feet staying firmly rooted in place.

  “Wait. Maybe she can help us. Maybe she knows what it means,” Snow said.

  “I don’t think that’s—”

  She leaned in close, talking under her breath. “You told me I need to trust my instincts and I am,” she said, her eyes challenging him to argue.

  Instead, he clamped his jaw shut, gritting his teeth together. What could he really say? She was just giving him what he wanted, after all. Infuriating, but he had to admire her spirit.

  “I’m Molly,” the librarian said, thrusting her hand forward.

  “Nice to meet you, Molly,” Snow said, shaking it. “We’re trying to find something my father left here, but he didn’t exactly tell us where. Maybe knowing something about this place would help. What can you tell us about this library?”

  Molly’s eyes widened until it looked like they were going to pop right out of her head. “You mean you don’t know the story?” she asked, breathless.

  “What story?” Snow asked, looking as confused as Hunter felt. This whole thing seemed like a terrible idea, but Snow wanted to pursue it and he did tell her to trust herself. It would do no good for him to start doubting her now.

  The librarian looked around again, this time leaning over the railing, craning her neck to make sure they were completely alone. “I’m not really supposed to talk about it. It’s been erased from the records… I think she was jealous, but this place was too much of a landmark to shut down without backlash from this side of the Empire.”

  “Jealous? Who? What are you talking about?” Snow asked all the questions, Hunter was staying out of this.

  Molly stepped further into the stacks, until her voice could be muffled by the thick tomes on all sides. “Your father,” she said. “He built this place for your mother. A wedding gift. There were others, all over the Empire, but this is the only one left. There wouldn’t be any record of it or anything, but I think the Queen destroyed the others. This one is special though, because of the war memorial.” She pointed back to the mural and swept her open palm toward the statues that flanked different areas of the library.

  “After the war, the Givvan governor commissioned the statues and murals that decorate the building now. Say what you will about the Queen — and there’s plenty to say, believe me — but I think she had some affection for the King. I think she cared about him, as much as she’s ever cared about anyone, really. She didn’t want to destroy his memory here.”

  Hunter flexed his hand. He had a lot of things to say about the Queen at this point, and none of them were nearly as kind as what Molly was saying.

  But the librarian continued without pause, walking down the aisles as if she were giving a tour. Maybe before the Queen took over there were tours with this story. It certainly seemed practiced.

  “When Queen Adria— When your mother passed, the King asked that there be a garden on the grounds in her memory,” Molly said.

  “A garden?” Snow perked up. Hunter just scowled. It wasn’t the time for sightseeing. “Like with flowers?” she added, sending a pointed look his way. Right. The clue. The flowers of the past…

  Molly nodded, her smile fading. “It was a beautiful garden. So many people would come and relax with nature in the middle of the day. We don’t have many parks here in Givva City, you know. Not much in the way of nature.”

  He watched Snow’s hopes deflate before his very eyes. “What do you mean, ‘was’?”

  “Well,” said Molly, shuffling from one foot to the other like she was under scrutiny now, “when the King died, the Queen didn’t destroy the library itself… But she did order the garden removed. Claimed there was an invasive species she didn’t want accidentally spreading to other places in the Empire. Bunch of rubbish if you ask me. But…”

  “But what?” Hunter asked, his patience wearing thin. If the garden was ripped up, any device hidden there would be long gone. And their hopes of taking down the Queen with it. There was no way they’d make it past another roadblock at this point. The Queen would have him dead before he could even come up with an alternative plan.

  Molly’s mouth twisted into an uncertain frown. “Maybe you should come with me. It would be easier to show you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Snow

  It would be easier to show you, she’d said. Did that have anything to do with ‘secrets hidden until they’re seen’? Were they on the right track at all?

  She didn’t want to look at Hunter. She knew what he’d say. He’d say they shouldn’t be trusting this person, that maybe they had the wrong idea about the clue, that maybe they should look somewhere else.

  But Snow wasn’t buying it. She had a feeling about this place. It just seemed right. This whole time, from the moment she’d met him until right now, Snow had questioned her judgment every step of the way. But not this time. Molly seemed like their best hope of figuring this out and she wasn’t going to turn her back on her just because there was a risk. There had always been risk. And there always would be if she didn’t tackle the problem of the Queen head-on now when she had the chance.

  She’d never forgive
herself if she didn’t.

  Molly led the way without commentary, down to the first level, then through a pair of sliding doors which only opened after she scanned her palm on the lock.

  They headed down long winding corridors, following the librarian without comment as she took them deeper into the library. Then, they were at another set of stairs leading down. Molly went ahead without looking back and Snow began to follow, but Hunter grabbed her by the wrist.

  He arched a brow at her, a silent question, a wordless ‘are you sure?’ and she nodded, pulling free of his grip and continuing after her.

  The stairs down seemed to go on forever. Leading to another hallway, then another set of stairs. They had to be fifty feet underground by the time they reached the bottom.

  Down here, the library wasn’t bright and gleaming surfaces. It was dark and dank, unadorned concrete on all sides, bare bulbs, dimming and flickering, water dripping from exposed pipes that ran along the ceiling. Now Snow was less sure. What could possibly be of use to them in this long-forgotten basement?

  “No one knows about this,” Molly said. After so long of none of them saying anything, her voice sounded too loud, reverberating on the hard walls, echoing down the hall. “No one but the librarians, anyway. I could get in a lot of trouble for showing you, but…” She drew her bottom lip between her teeth and chewed on it, looking from the plain door in front of them back to Hunter and Snow.

  “But you’re… you,” she said, as if that were an obvious argument to anyone’s objections.

  Still, she looked nervous as she reached for the door handle, her hand hovering over the knob. Molly took a deep breath and pushed the door open on exhale, stepping aside as she entered to let them pass through.

  Snow gasped, stepping into a shower of sunlight that filtered down from far above. The ceiling, dozens of feet above their heads, was made of glass, and a wall of warm humid air greeted them on the other side of the door. When she looked back over her shoulder, Hunter seemed as in awe of the underground greenhouse garden as she was.

  Here, in the privacy of a secret garden, Snow tugged the shawl off of her head and let nature envelop her.

  “He was a smart man, your father,” Molly said softly. The air was fragrant with fresh foliage and vibrant blooms. Nothing quite as wild or overgrown as the planet they’d camped on, but charming in its subdued nature. “He asked for the public garden for the people of the city, but this private one… He liked to come here and pay his respects to your mother.”

  “My… My mo—” Snow struggled to get the words out, but Molly nodded just the same.

  “Did you not know where her final resting place was? I thought you of all people…” She looked down at her feet.

  Snow still couldn’t process what she was saying. This whole hidden oasis felt like stepping into another world and to hear that her father had visited this place. That her mother was… here…

  “We had a tomb at the palace,” she said. “The funeral was there… It seemed like the whole Empire showed up over the next three months.” She wandered off down a cobblestone path, through tropical shrubs with long stalks and big waxy leaves. She touched everything, lost in the memory.

  “The Queen destroyed it the same week my father died,” her throat closed, her voice breaking. “I always thought…”

  “It was always empty,” Molly said solemnly. “I think he knew she’d prefer the privacy.”

  Snow smiled at that thought. If the cottage was any indication, Molly was right. Her mother had always liked her secret getaways.

  “So… she’s here? Still?” Suddenly, her heart wouldn’t slow down.

  Molly nodded. “Just down that path and through the archway.” She pointed.

  Snow practically ran. She knew she shouldn’t. Princesses didn’t do undignified things like that. But all thoughts of anything else fled her mind at the promise of being by her mother’s side again. She heard Hunter’s footsteps following, and then she reached the archway and skidded to a stop. Hunter stopped too.

  She didn’t know why she couldn’t step beyond the arch, but she was nervous. She didn’t want to think of her mother being disappointed of what she’d become. All the un-princess-like things she’d done.

  Hunter’s hand settled heavily on her shoulder and squeezed slightly. “I’ll give you some time alone,” he said.

  She nodded, swallowing past the lump in her throat, feeling tears already pricking at her eyes.

  Beyond the archway, a fountain babbled merrily, flowering vines growing all over it and reaching toward the glass ceiling. She trailed her fingers along the edge of the stone basin, dipping her fingers in the water. On the other side of the fountain, there was a bench facing a bare patch of soft grass with a simple etched glass marker.

  She tread carefully to the marker, like she was walking on thin ice that could shatter beneath her at any moment. She felt like the whole world would crumble under her with any step.

  And then she knelt in the grass, the velvety blades tickling her through her clothes, her fingers disappearing in the thickness of it.

  Here lies Adriana. Remembered by many, loved by all.

  Snow sucked in a breath, her eyes watery and nearly overflowing. She traced each letter with her fingertip and looked back to the bench, where her father must have spent hours in his grief.

  “I hope you’re not disappointed in me,” she whispered. “I know I’ve done things you would have said were inappropriate for a princess… but you never told me what was appropriate for a ruler. I hope… I hope I don’t let you down,” she said, stroking the grass absently. “Things aren’t like they were. They haven’t been since you…” She shook her head. “But I’m trying to fix it. It’s what you’d both want, I think. It’s what I want. It’s what the people want. I just wish you were still here. You always knew just what to say, just how to fix everything and make it better.”

  A tear fell and landed on the back of her hand before running down into the ground. “But I guess it’s my turn now to know what to say and what to do. I know you taught me the best you could, I just wish we’d had more time.”

  For years and years Snow wished she had a place she could talk to her mother. She’d spend hours thinking of all the things she’d say, all the questions she’d ask even though there wouldn’t be any answers. But now that she was here, now that she had the opportunity, she didn’t want to say anything more. She just wanted to be there with her parents.

  After some time, she wasn’t sure how much, Hunter’s footsteps crossed the clearing. She didn’t have to turn to know it was him over Molly. She knew by the way he walked, by the presence he brought with him, by the way her heart fluttered before she’d heard anything at all. Her body knew it was him before her mind did.

  The wooden slats of the bench creaked under his weight as he sat down.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  She wanted to say yes, she wanted to nod and tell him she was fine, but she didn’t say anything. Didn’t move.

  “Did I ever tell you about my mother?” he asked, his voice soft. Snow’s hand stilled in the grass and she turned her head enough that she could see him out of the corner of her eye. She shook her head just barely.

  He nodded. “Well, she took off. When I was just a baby. Left Dad to take care of me by himself. Which, you know, basically meant I was taking care of myself as soon as I could manage it. Wasn’t Dad’s fault. He had a job to do. But I always hoped she’d come back. That she’d realize she made a mistake leaving us all alone. I thought about what it would be like to have her there when I was sick, to have her read me bedtime stories and tell me things would be alright when Dad came home too late and I was worried.”

  Snow frowned, already knowing where this was going.

  He sighed, his shoulders slumping. “She never came back. Never wanted to, I guess. Dad always said family life didn’t agree with her, but he didn’t like to talk about it. I think he felt like he’d failed somehow. When the Q
ueen forced me into the Guard, I looked her up. Found out she’d spent over a decade hopping from planet to planet, never really putting roots down anywhere… Then she got stuck in a quarantine. Asanin plague. Wiped out whole worlds, you know?”

  She swallowed, nodding, stroking the grass again as tears filled her eyes. This time, they weren’t for her or her mother, but for Hunter. And the mother he should have had and the one he got instead.

  He stood and joined her on the grass, lacing his fingers through hers. “The point is… Your mother loved you Snow. I know you didn’t get enough time with her, but she really loved you. And I know she’d be proud of you now. You should have no doubt of that.”

  Her eyes drifted back to the glass marker, her tears receding. Somehow, hearing Hunter say it made it truer. Made it real.

  “I know,” she finally said, her voice barely more than a squeak.