Poison (11 page)

‘You’re nearly recovered,’ Dreamy said, one evening as the fire embers died down and the dwarves headed back to their cottages. ‘You’ll be able to return to your land soon. You must be pleased.’

‘I’m not quite well enough yet,’ the young prince replied, and Dreamy thought he’d never seen such a sad and handsome face as that upon which the fading firelight danced. His own heart felt heavy. Perhaps they should have made his bed inside the small cottage. Perhaps giving him so much time with their cursed princess had been stupid. Now there was more heartache ahead when the young man would have to leave her.

He didn’t read before sleeping that night. There was too much tragedy and romance already surrounding them. Instead, he lay awake on the wooden table outside the cottage and stared at the stars and wished for happy endings.

It was perhaps a week later, as the cool breath of autumn swept through the forest, that they first noticed the ravens. They were sitting on the fences at the bottom of the mountain on the Dwarf Path.

‘Ravens don’t come out here,’ Stumpy said. He didn’t break his pace, but his eyes darted upwards and his voice was low. Dreamy remembered when Stumpy had been a merrier soul who’d laughed and chatted as they’d worked, but four hours stuck beneath a rock slide, his hand crushed beside him and the dead bodies of four dwarves around him in the dark had changed him. Dreamy had been part of the rescue team. It was a day he would never forget. Stumpy had been screaming for at least an hour before he passed out. When he’d woken up, he was not the same. There were somethings that changed you. This was as true as a first breath and a last, and that day had killed the dwarf who had been Dreamy’s best friend, even if he still walked, and talked, and mined. Perhaps one day the old Stumpy would return, but those shadows would never be entirely shaken free. Just as Dreamy would never shake off the sound of his screams.

‘What are they doing here?’ Stumpy kept his voice low. They were on the mountain now, and the guard would be watching. There was no love lost between those who mined and those who supervised. The men were nearly all there on punishment duties and they envied the dwarves their good health amid the dust.

‘Queen’s birds,’ a voice came from a team marching beside them. Dreamy looked round. The leader was rough skinned and his face had a long scar running down one side. Belcher, Dreamy thought his name was. He’d been a warrior dwarf, a city dwarf. His songs were different to theirs and his team never smiled or broke ranks when they dug. Belcher’s team would not have got separated and allowed one of their own to lose a hand. Had the words come from any dwarf but him, Dreamy would have laughed them off. Instead, his guts chilled.

‘How do you know?’ Stumpy asked. Dreamy stayed quiet. Belcher respected Stumpy. He respected how he’d changed. Dreamy wondered what Belcher might have been like decades ago before the wars and then the mines changed him.

‘I hear talk. I still have friends among the soldiers. Those are charmed birds.’ His mouth barely moved as he grunted out the words and all of them kept their eyes ahead. ‘She
sees
through them. Watches the city. They’ve never left its limits before.’

‘What’s she looking for, do you reckon?’ Dreamy was impressed with Stumpy’s casual tone. He gripped his axe hard to stop his hands trembling. There was only one thing – one person – the queen could be looking for, and that was Snow White.

‘You tell me, Stumpy lad,’ Belcher said, wryly. ‘You tell me.’

Their shift passed interminably slowly. Dreamy found a moment to tell Grouchy what had been said, but it was nothing that could be talked about in the hot, close confines they worked in. Ears were everywhere and Dreamy didn’t know if it was his imagination or not, but it seemed as if here and there hooded eyes turned his team’s way. Was their secret safe? Snow White had been friends to all the dwarves, but it was their cottage she had come to when the drinking and singing was done. Would the other teams pass that information on to the soldiers if asked? How strong was dwarf honour – and what would happen to them if Snow White was discovered? He fought the rising panic. He would take whatever fate passed their way. They had vowed to protect the princess. They had failed once – they would not fail again.

There were no ravens in the forest; that much at least was a relief. Rain was pouring heavily through the trees as they trudged home and the drops were cold and had no summer scent as they turned their faces upwards into it and scanned the branches for silent birds.

The prince had a fire lit for them and a fresh rabbit was roasting on a spit, but as the water dripped from the dwarves to the cottage floor, the meaty scent did nothing to entice them to eat.

They sat in silence for a while, sipping beer.

‘Maybe it’s nothing to do with us,’ Breezy said. ‘Maybe she just wants to make sure we’re all working?’

Grouchy barely snorted in response.

‘A princess is missing,’ Stumpy said. ‘Even if the queen thinks she’s dead, she’s got to make a show of looking for her. We didn’t think of that.’

‘Is there anything I can do?’ The prince had stayed out of their conversation, but he’d been listening from the fireside.

‘You should go,’ Grouchy said. ‘Your land needs its prince and these are our troubles. Plus, winter is coming. You can’t sleep out there forever.’

Dreamy’s heart stung at the words, and the thought of Snow White out on the mound in the dark in her glass coffin, the rain hammering on it. At least the prince stayed with her. At least while he was here she was rarely alone.

‘Maybe in a day or two.’ He turned back to the fire. ‘I still need to rest.’ His jaw locked and although no one would argue with Grouchy, and he was right, they knew what really kept the handsome prince in their poor cottage and up on the mound.

‘A day or two longer,’ Grouchy said. ‘And then, my friend, you must leave. I will not have more on my conscience.’

The prince nodded and as something unspoken passed between the two, a thought dawned on Dreamy that hadn’t occurred to him before. This prince’s land might not be one of the allied kingdoms. Dwarves and politics did not mix, but had Grouchy recognised the prince’s crest? Would he become a prisoner, if the queen knew about him? Would they all end up in the dungeons for harbouring him? Suddenly it was all clear. And suddenly their present danger increased tenfold.

Eventually, they filled their plates with food and forced themselves to eat, but every mouthful of meat made Dreamy want to be sick. He wished he was braver. He’d always imagined himself as the hero in the adventures he’d read, but he was starting to realise that adventures in real life were far more fear than excitement. The wicked queen was coming.

* * *

And come she did.

It was as if the weather could sense the dark magic that was spreading across the forest. The temperature had dropped overnight and rain hung in half frozen droplets across the branches. Autumn had been crushed by an early winter, the browning leaves killed by the sudden cold.

Dreamy was alone when he heard the heavy wheels of a carriage on the other side of the thick trees and bushes, followed by the sharp shouts of soldiers coming to a halt. He had been building the fire so it would last all day, and was about to race to catch the others up when he stopped, his stomach turning to water, in the clearing. The prince had gone up to the mound only minutes before, a pot of hot stew to keep him warm during his vigil, and Dreamy willed him to stay away. He stared at the trees. Maybe they wouldn’t find the cottage – maybe they—

‘It’s here somewhere.’ A woman’s voice; quiet but commanding. ‘Cut your way through. I will speak to them
all
.’ It was
her
. The queen. Snow White’s step-mother.

More shouted commands and axes and swords cut into the veins of the forest, determined to clear a pathway to the cottage door. Dreamy wanted to cry. Why was he the last one here? Why not Grouchy? Or Stumpy? They were braver. They would not be so afraid. He looked around at the small tracks leading to the pond and the mound. He wanted to run. His short, thick legs trembled with the urgency. He could make it, he was sure, and be clear and at the mine before the soldiers found their way to the Dwarf Path. The soldiers would never know the ways through the forest like the dwarves did and fear concentrated the mind.

And his mind concentrated as the axes beat out a steady rhythm towards him, branches creaking as they were torn free. He
could
run. But what would happen then? They’d search the cottage. He tried to remember if there was anything incriminating in there? Something of Snow’s from times gone by? Her breeches were kept somewhere. Maybe they’d find them. Chances were they’d then search the surrounding areas. The mound was well hidden but nowhere near well enough to escape a determined queen. He thought of the ravens. How much did she know already?

Ahead of him, a gap formed in the butchered trees and he glimpsed the soldiers coming forward. The Queen’s Guard. He couldn’t run. He knew that much. He was the only one who could save himself and his friends.

‘Hello?’ he called, and stepped forward, his voice innocent and wary. ‘Who’s there?’

‘Her Majesty the Queen!’ a soldier barked.

Dreamy fell to one knee and bowed his head. He waited. Finally the axes fell silent and there was only the cool breeze rustling in the trees and the clank of soldiers’ metal.

‘Get up, dwarf.’

‘Your Majesty.’ He paused for a moment in deference before standing with his head bowed. ‘What an honour. What can I do for you? I live to serve.’ He’d been worried that, not being a natural liar, his face would give his guilt away; but instead, as he finally glanced up, his mouth dropped open and all thought was momentarily gone. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting. A monster? A crone?

She was beautiful. He’d
heard
she was beautiful, of course. Snow White had said as much and the soldiers at the mines made plenty of lewd jokes about the old king’s luck, but Dreamy hadn’t been part of the birthday ball joke – his balance hadn’t been good enough to stand on another’s shoulders without causing them all to collapse – so he had never seen her for himself. He hadn’t thought that there could ever be anyone as beautiful as Snow White, but here was proof otherwise.

Where Snow’s hair was dark and thick, the queen’s was white blonde and like a sheet of silk down her back. Her eyes angled upwards like a cat’s. He noticed that beneath them were dark shadows. He felt terrified and full of pity all at once. Guilt could drive a person mad, he was sure of it.

‘The princess is missing,’ she said curtly. ‘I know how much she likes to socialise with you… people.’ She looked at the cottage and its surrounds as if the idea of spending any time in such a place was her idea of hell. ‘If any of you have caused her any harm, then we will find out.’

‘No dwarf would hurt her!’ Dreamy exclaimed. ‘We love the princess. Your Majesty knows that. But we haven’t seen her for days. We thought perhaps she was caught up in business at the castle, and we’re no longer allowed in the castle… so…’ He let the sentence drift off to a natural end. It was this queen who had banished them, after all.

‘Please,’ he dropped his bag and ran to the cottage door, pulling it open – he hoped not too dramatically. ‘Search our house. Please. Dwarf honour is at stake. Search the house and then I will help you hunt for her anywhere you ask. As will my brothers.’

She stared at him for a long moment and his heart was in his mouth. If they did search the cottage then Snow White’s breeches would be found and they would be done for. But if he hadn’t offered this woman would have insisted. It was a dangerous bluff, but it was also all he had.

‘You’ve heard none of the other dwarves talking about her?’ the queen asked.

‘No, your Majesty. But I will listen harder, I promise you.’

‘Make sure you do. My ravens will travel further into the forest soon.’ She looked at the trees around them as if they were an army standing against her. ‘Then we’ll find her, however well she’s hidden.’

Dreamy said nothing, not sure he could trust himself to speak, but the queen was lost in her own thoughts.

‘I just need to know,’ she said softly, to the trees and the breeze perhaps, but not to man or dwarf. ‘I’ll go mad if I never
know
.’

She turned and walked back along the new path to her carriage and after a second or two snapped her fingers. The Queen’s Guard gave Dreamy one more suspicious glare and then followed her. The trees and bushes were already knotting themselves back together and the dwarf was pleased to hear one small exclamation of pain as a bramble caught on a passing soldier’s cheek.

‘To the next one!’ The queen commanded, her voice carrying easily to the clearing. ‘And then to the mines.’

Dreamy waited until the horses had been spurred on, and the roll of the carriage’s wheels was no longer audible, before he allowed his legs to give way beneath him. He sat trembling on a tree stump, his breathing ragged and harsh. For a while he thought perhaps that they might come back – that this was an elaborate ruse to lull him into a sense of calm only to return, declare him a traitor and drag him to the dungeons – but no wheels or horses returned and as his panic finally left him and his skin cooled, Dreamy knew what he had to do. There was no time to wait for the others. Their shift wouldn’t be finished for many long hours yet, and by then anything could have happened. The ravens might spy Snow White from above or – and although it was a terrible thought he knew it was possible – one of their own kind might betray them. They’d kept Snow White a secret, but all the dwarves knew that his team were her favourites.

As soon as his legs were steady he went up to the mound, fighting the urge to run and instead moving cautiously, checking around him for signs of soldiers or spies. The dense forest, however, was empty and each of his own footsteps was too loud as he made his way along the familiar route and up to the sunny peak.

The prince was sitting with his head bowed as Dreamy arrived. He didn’t look over, but continued to stare at the beautiful face within the glass coffin.