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

by J. M. Page

  “No one should underestimate her,” he said. But even as he said it, he couldn’t help thinking of their plan for tomorrow and all the things that could go wrong. All the things she was hoping would just work out for them.

  He knew it couldn’t be that easy.

  “Which room is mine?” he asked.

  “Up, to the right. Number four. You’re not gonna join the party?”

  Hunter shook his head. “There will be plenty more after tomorrow.” He just probably wouldn’t be going to any of them, either.

  He stayed in his room all night. It was simply furnished — a bed, a nightstand with a lamp, a dresser he had no use for, and a vidscreen with nothing interesting on. Half the channels had been taken over by the Queen’s propaganda machine. The other half were airing things that seemed so inconsequential and trite after all they’d been through. What use did he have for fashion advice or gossip?

  The questions plaguing him couldn’t be answered by a vidscreen.

  Eventually he dozed off, still lying upright with his shoes and the lamp on. A soft knock on his door woke him.

  “Hunter?” Snow’s voice came through.

  He rubbed his eyes before answering it.

  “Hi,” she said, her cheeks flushed. “You never came down.”

  “Not quite in the celebrating mood,” he said, his grip on the door tightening.

  She looked down, almost embarrassed. “Yeah, I know. I wasn’t really either but… you know…”

  “Being a good leader and rallying the troops?” he teased.

  She offered a lopsided smile. “Something like that. Can I come in?” She wavered on her feet and Hunter realized that flush was from drinking.

  “Didn’t they give you a room?”

  She drew her bottom lip between her teeth and nodded. “Yeah… It’s just… lonely without you,” she looked down again.

  Hunter sucked in a deep breath. He thought if he distanced himself from her, it would make what had to happen in the morning easier. He thought he could pretend that he wasn’t conflicted about it.

  But with her at his doorstep, he couldn’t deny that he wanted — needed — this one last night with her.

  “I was just sleeping,” he said. “I won’t be very good company.” Even as he said that, he stepped aside to let her in, closing the door behind her.

  “You were sleeping in your shoes?” she asked with an incredulous giggle.

  “Old habits.” He shrugged. “When you need to get up and leave somewhere in a hurry, it’s best not to have to stop to put your shoes on.”

  “Were you planning on running away in the middle of the night?” She was teasing him again, but it struck too close to home. She yawned, pulling off her shoes and outer layers before snuggling in under the blankets.

  He never answered her.

  She pulled the quilt back and patted the spot on the bed next to her. “Lay down with me. I sleep better when you’re there.”

  His throat tightened, but he did as she asked. Immediately, she curled up against his side, the most exquisite kind of torture he’d ever had to endure. Slowly, he slipped an arm around her shoulder and held her close, silently apologizing for what he was planning.

  “Hunter?” she murmured sleepily, reaching behind her to turn off the lamp.

  “Hmm?”

  “Take off your shoes.”

  He slept only briefly, but lay there for hours just holding Snow, stroking her hair, listening to her breathe. What could their life together have been like if things were different? If the world they lived in was different?

  It served no purpose to sit and wonder about it. Things were the way they were and they couldn’t be changed. Sure, Snow could change the world, she could set the Empire back to rights, but he wouldn’t be there to see it.

  There was no way to get through this day without the Queen detonating the chip in his heart. The least he could do was choose how he went out.

  As the horizon turned from black to deep blue, Hunter extracted himself from Snow’s grip. She muttered something in her sleep and he pulled the blankets up over her shoulder, placing a kiss on her temple before slipping back into his shoes. She’d be up at dawn and he needed to be long gone by then.

  The door closed silently behind him and he made his way down the darkened corridor, the whole place still sleeping off the night before.

  No one waited for him at the front desk and he slipped out of the Rusty Brew without seeing another soul.

  On the deserted street of the capital city, he pulled out his communicator and sent the Queen a message: I’m on my way.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Snow

  Sunlight tickled her nose and Snow stretched, reaching across the bed for Hunter, but she only found his side cold and empty. Her eyes shot open and she surveyed the whole room. He wasn’t there.

  A cold trickle of doubt welled up in her mind, making its way down her spine and into her heart.

  He left her? After all this?

  Then, an even worse thought occurred to her. She rummaged through the drawers, overturning almost everything in the room, but her worst suspicions were confirmed. He took the device with him.

  She cursed herself. She cursed him. She cursed herself again for ever trusting him. No doubt he was taking that device straight to the Queen. Would people still be willing to revolt if they knew the Queen held the means of their survival in her hands? As long as those chips were functioning, Snow wasn’t sure they’d have the courage. The Queen could retaliate, track them down, their loved ones, shut down bank accounts and ruin their lives from afar.

  Even if they managed to take down the Queen, Snow was sure there were sympathizers who would use working chips against the populace.

  Did this new development ruin everything? How could Hunter do this to her? She thought…

  She swallowed, blinking back tears when she heard a knock on the door next door. The door to the room she’d been assigned.

  She peered out into the hallway and saw Tanna there with a tray of food, piping hot. “Oh, there you are! Hope it’s not too early, thought you could use a good meal for a big day like today.”

  Snow said nothing, nodding and letting Tanna into the room where she set the tray on the dresser, frowning at the mess Snow had made.

  “I’m sorry, I’ll clean it up. I thought I lost something,” she said quickly, feeling sheepish for turning the place upside down.

  Tanna was already picking things up and putting them in their rightful place. “Nonsense, don’t you worry about it,” she said, humming to herself while she cleaned at breakneck speed.

  “Is this what you were looking for?” she asked, holding out a scrap of paper.

  Snow frowned and took the paper from her, unfurling it to find only a single word scrawled on it: Trust.

  You jerk, she thought, scowling at the slip of paper. What made him abandon their plan? And why hadn’t he told her about it the night before? What was he thinking, just going on without her? Where was his trust?

  She folded the paper carefully and slipped it into her pocket, finding her mother’s ring there. She’d almost forgotten about it, but now she slipped it on and sank back on the bed.

  “Can I make calls from here?”

  Tanna nodded. “Of course, but if you want a secure line, you’ll have to come with me downstairs.”

  Snow nodded and followed Tanna out, still cursing Hunter under her breath. How did he expect this to work? The moment he showed up without her, the Queen would know he’d defected.

  But if she’d shown up without him, or they came together, there would be no doubt that he’d be dead in an instant.

  That was the problem then. He didn’t see a way that he could make it out alive. So he’d gone for the noble sacrifice, the ass. As much as she wanted to chase after him and stop him, he knew as well as she did that she couldn’t. She had to be there to lead the charge. She had to make sure everything was in place.

  Tanna led her dow
n the creaky stairs and through an ‘employees only’ door that emptied into the kitchen. In the kitchen, Tanna went towards the large walk-in freezer and pried open a hatch on the floor that opened to another staircase.

  Snow shivered, greeted by the icy blast of air, hugging herself as Tanna worked on the hatch.

  “Right down there,” she said.

  Snow nodded again, trying to appear grateful while calling Hunter every name she could think of in her head. If — no, when — she saw him again, he was going to get an earful.

  The room under the freezer wasn’t much warmer than the freezer itself. The walls were bare, the floor made of dirt, and Snow could touch the closest and furthest wall without even extending her arms all the way. There was one bent metal chair set before what was obviously a homemade communicator. It was cobbled together with tape and exposed wires, but she was sure it would work as she placed the call. She’d dealt with worse.

  “I’ve been waiting to hear from you!” Beaver said as the call connected.

  She nodded. “Everything in place?”

  “Ready as we’ll ever be.”

  Just ask him. She pressed her lips together and folded her hands, straightening her shoulders for courage.

  “How many men do you have inside the palace?”

  Beaver thought about it, pushing his spectacles up his nose. “About a dozen or so within the Guard.”

  She took a deep breath. “I need one more favor. An extraction. Can your men manage that?”

  He nodded, weighing it in his mind before saying, “Yes, I think so. There should be enough commotion otherwise to pull it off.”

  “Perfect,” said Snow. Maybe they had a chance after all.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Hunter

  An uneasy knot tightened around his stomach as Hunter approached the palace guards.

  “She’s expecting me,” he said to the one he recognized. The guard nodded and his companion opened the door for Hunter.

  “She’s in the throne room,” the guard said.

  Hunter steeled his spine. The throne room. Of course she was. She was feeling insecure and in need of asserting her power, he had no doubt. Hunter hated the throne room. He had vague memories of what it was like before, full of light and plants his father had chosen.

  Now, the cavernous room was dark. Heavy curtains were pulled over the tall windows, only slivers of light creeping in from the edges. Where there had once been three thrones at the head of the room, there was now only one, big enough to seat a giant despite the Queen being a slight woman.

  She sat in the throne, her thin body cloaked in a sumptuous fabric that hugged her bony hips and clung to her rib cage, the only shaft of light in the room directed upon her head. She said nothing as he entered, her stone-cold eyes boring into him from a distance. But her fingers tightened on the armrest, he saw, their tips turning white.

  The Queen kept her expression neutral as Hunter approached. He knelt at the base of the throne and the waves of fury coming from her were unmistakable.

  And now, he prepared himself for his inevitable end.

  “You’re alone,” she said, her voice harsh and clipped. No fake cooing or sweet simpering today.

  He dipped his head, bringing his eyes up to meet hers. “Yes, Your Majesty. The girl slipped away from me when we arrived. I could have killed her then, but you’d impressed upon me the need to return her alive.”

  Her eyes narrowed and she drummed her fingers on the throne, long pointed nails clicking as she did. “This is so disappointing, Hunter,” she said. “I thought you were better than this.”

  He braced himself, waiting for the pain, the sudden shock that would end his life and his servitude. But he needed to activate the device first. He began to reach for his pocket, but the Queen was already turning to her guards.

  “Bring me his father,” she ordered.

  Hunter swallowed. “Your Majesty?”

  She tutted, shaking her head. “What would you do in my position, Hunter? You are quite valuable to me. It’s a shame it has to end this way.”

  She wasn’t just going to kill him, then. She was going to make him watch his father die first.

  “I have the device,” he said quickly. “I will trade it for his life.” He was just stalling now. He didn’t believe for a moment that she’d honor that deal once he was dead.

  She laughed, a high-pitched mirthless sound that echoed throughout the granite and marble hall. “What makes this device so special?” she asked. “Did you think that would be enough to save you?”

  He lowered his head again, keeping his eyes on hers all the while. “I hoped it would be enough, yes. It was suggested that this device could tear apart your reign. I thought it more important than some spoiled princess without a clue.”

  The Queen’s lips thinned. “You think she is no threat to me?”

  He shrugged. “I think she is easily dealt with.”

  “And yet you show up here without her. What does that say about you? Have you gone soft on me, Hunter?”

  “No, Your Majesty.” Quite the opposite. All this time, forced to work under her, he’d struggled to find something worth living for. Survival had always been his goal, but surviving wasn’t living. Survival wasn’t good enough and he couldn’t go back to that life.

  After years of searching for something worth living for, Hunter had finally found something worth dying for. Snow, and the restoration of the Empire. Having a part in preventing more stories like his, like hers. It was worth it.

  “I hope not,” she said. “Perhaps if this device is what you say, I could reconsider your punishment.”

  Hunter looked up quickly. Mercy didn’t sound like the Queen. “You mean… my father?”

  That fake laughter echoed again, jarring every nerve ending in his body. “Oh no. Your father will have to die. He was a reward for bringing the girl and—” she opened her arms to gesture around the empty throne room “—I see no girl. But you… You represent quite the investment on my part. I’d hate to lose my favorite huntsman,” she pouted, pushing her lips out in a way that looked absurd on a woman her age.

  “I see,” he said, his shoulders sagging.

  “Oh, you understand, don’t you dear? I can’t have people thinking that it’s okay to fail missions. What kind of example would that set?”

  He rose to his feet and nodded. “I understand.” He understood perfectly. She would never stop manipulating him as long as he lived.

  “This all could have been avoided if you hadn’t fallen for her tricks. I thought you were more resilient than that.”

  “Tricks?” Hunter said, clasping his hands behind his back. The device was in his back pocket, he could easily reach it now without alerting her suspicion. But he wanted to give Snow as much time as he could. And, selfishly, he wanted to see his father once more before he died.

  His throat tightened. Would his father be able to break free in the commotion? Maybe Snow would find him. Maybe he had a chance. But for Hunter, it all ended here.

  “Oh yes. That little brat has always been talented with making people love her. I should have known you wouldn’t be immune. Was I so wrong to want a little affection from my own husband? But every spare minute of his time he spent with her.” She looked off into the distance, almost seeming hurt by the slight. But then a murderous gleam took over in her eyes. “Perhaps if he’d paid more attention to my unhappiness he would have realized I was poisoning him.”

  “I don’t like being ignored, Hunter,” she said, standing, walking circles around him. “And I’m recalling now how often you’ve been disregarding me lately. I’m not so sure leniency is warranted after all.”

  His hand slipped into his pocket and closed around the disc that would disable the chips. He may not have the time to see his father again at this rate.

  The Queen seemed to be thinking the same thing, turning toward the door with a glare. “What is taking them so long?” She pulled a communicator from somewhere — wh
ere she hid it in that dress was anyone’s guess — and opened it, scowling at the screen. “Captain, I’ve been waiting long enough,” she barked.

  Hunter couldn’t see the screen, but he could practically feel the man’s uneasy hesitation through the silence. “There seems to be a problem, Your Majesty,” the Captain said.

  If her eyes could shoot lasers, the compact would be melted with the look she leveled at him. “What do you mean there’s a problem, Captain?”