Snow White and the Huntsman (13 page)

He watched as the girl finally gave in to sleep. Anna and her daughter retired in the thatch hut, offering a quiet good-night. He stayed there for a long while, all the fires dying down around him. Soon he was alone in the dark.

The Queen would be coming for him soon. He had escaped with her prisoner, betrayed her men, and wounded her brother. It wouldn’t be long before she tracked him to the woods beyond the Dark Forest. Now that death was coming, he resisted it, not wanting it to happen this way—on
her
terms. Not after she had lied.

Although it was possible that Anna had imagined the whole “your sacrifice will come” scenario, it was just the excuse he needed. Snow White would be fine on her own. She had saved him twice in the Dark Forest. She had the knife and was smart enough to get to the duke’s stronghold on her own. It would take the Queen’s men another day to get around the Dark Forest—at least.

He gathered his things in the dark, tucking the hatchets back into his belt. He grabbed extra linen for his wound and another trout for the day ahead. Then he looked down at Snow White’s face once last time. Her lips were moving in sleep.

“Dammit,” he muttered, hating that it wasn’t as easy as
he’d hoped. He wasn’t one for connections or relationships, all the complications that came when you got used to having someone in your life. It was always easier on his own.

He started toward the ladder on the other side of the hut. Then he stopped, feeling the weight of the locket charm in his trousers pocket. He turned it over in his hand, remembering the day Sara had given it to him. It was after the battles had started. There was news of men getting killed in the forest. Robbers looted supply wagons and torched the roads. “Just in case,” she’d said, pressing it into his palm. She’d always been superstitious that way.

He looked at it one last time, knowing that Sara would’ve wanted the girl to have it. She would’ve liked her spirit, the way she always seemed to be thinking something she wouldn’t share. And Sara would have been thankful for what the girl had done that day, the courage she’d shown at the edge of the Dark Forest. Although he hated to admit it, he was, too.

He rested the locket in the girl’s open palm, hoping that what Sara had said was right. Maybe it
did
work. Maybe it
wasn’t
a complete joke. He was alive, wasn’t he? He had survived losing her, despite his careless regard for his own life. He’d made it through the Dark Forest. Something had been protecting him all these years.

“Just in case,” he said quietly. Then he started down the ladder, not daring to look back.

T
here was a scream. Snow White awoke, her eyes slowly adjusting to the dark. It took her a moment to realize where she was. The fire had gone out. Pressed inside her palm was a bone locket—the same one Eric had held hours before. She looked around the wooden deck, searching the inside of the thatch hut, where Anna and Lily slept. The Huntsman was gone.

She looked out and scanned the village. The air was filled with smoke. The raised house across the way glowed with an eerie light. Two of the women peered out from the small window in its side, one covering her mouth in horror. Snow White circled the deck, finally seeing what they saw. The sky was filled with flaming arrows. Archers stood on the hillside above the village, silhouetted by the gray starlit sky.

Within seconds, the first arrow struck. The fiery missile buried itself in the thatch house just two away from Anna’s.
The roof caught fire, the flames spreading out from where it hit, consuming the tiny structure in minutes. The older woman who’d bandaged Eric’s wound ran out of the hut. Her thin linen dress had caught fire in the back. She reached over her shoulder, trying to smack it out, but it was no use. As she ran, the flames grew, her hair catching fire. She screamed as she jumped off the wooden deck, extinguishing herself in the marsh below.

Finn’s army was coming closer. Snow White could see their faces now, glowing in the firelight as they approached the banks of the marsh. Some led their horses through the shallow waters. They kept shooting up into the houses. Others climbed into the boats on shore, pushing off into the still water. Far below, a man with a knife jumped onto the wooden ladder and began climbing up to the thatch hut. A woman with a long black braid threw firewood on him from the deck above, trying to slow his progress.

Then Snow White spotted him. Finn led his horse out from behind the trees. He raised his bow, launching an arrow into a nearby hut. “Find her!” he yelled.

Snow White slipped behind the hut, careful not to be seen. She moved quickly. “They’re here!” she yelled, darting into the thatch room. She raced toward Anna, shaking her awake. “The Queen’s men are here.”

Anna rubbed her eyes. She looked at Snow White in disbelief. As she sat up, an arrow came through the roof, lodging in the thin mattress beside Lily’s head. The wool blanket caught on fire. Snow White raced toward the sleeping girl,
pulling her from the bed and heaving her over her shoulder. She was about to run when Anna screamed.

Snow White spun around. Behind her, standing right on the deck, was one of Finn’s men. He smiled when their eyes met, revealing a missing front tooth. He was so tall and broad that he filled the entire doorway, making it impossible to pass through. Then, without any warning, he charged.

Before she could think, she yanked the arrow out of the mattress and jammed the flaming tip into his thigh, not stopping until it met bone. He let out an excruciating cry. Then he toppled over, the flames spreading to his calves and waist until the whole lower half of his body was burning. He twisted in pain.

Snow White watched him, horrified. She couldn’t stop staring at his scrunched-up face. Water squeezed out of the corners of his eyes. The hut filled with the putrid stink of burning flesh. She doubled over, the smoke caught in her lungs. For a moment, she was afraid she’d be sick.

Anna grabbed her arm. “Come on,” she yelled, nodding to the door. Snow White started out, turning back one last time to see the soldier. He’d curled onto his side. He was heaving, his hands trying to subdue the growing flames.

They took the ladder down, nearly two rungs at a time. Snow White splashed into the marsh, Lily over her shoulder. The little girl started crying as they started through the muddy water, which came up to Snow White’s chest. There was chaos all around them. Many of the stilted houses were on fire. Smoke and ash filled the air. Pieces of
burning debris fell from above, plunging into the shallow marsh water, extinguished with a hiss.

Anna pointed to the shore fifty feet off. A few of the women had already reached it and now sprinted into the trees. Snow White followed her through the mud, moving as fast as she could. Behind them, they heard the shouts and cries of the other women. A girl who was younger than Lily held her mother’s hand as they jumped from the wooden deck. Snow White kept her eyes on the bank ahead, not wanting to look back. “Where is she?” one of the men called out.

When they finally reached the shore, their clothes were soaked through. Snow White started ahead, following the rest of the women, when a horse cut across her path. One of the mercenaries jumped down from it. The man was heavier than the others, with a chin that spilled over the top of his shirt. He unsheathed his sword and stalked toward her.

“Run!” Snow White cried, passing Lily into Anna’s arms. Snow White pointed to the thick woods. If she distracted him, they’d have enough time to get away. She stepped out front to where the man could see her clearly. She held the knife in her right hand, taking the stance the Huntsman had shown her, one arm up and the other still, just waiting for the enemy to come close.

The mercenary came at her. She held the knife aloft, looking into his black eyes.
One …
she thought, watching him near,
two … three
. When he was just inches away, she slashed at him with the knife. He stumbled back, a small
wound opening in his chest. He threw his head back and laughed. Then he punched her hard in the stomach. She fell to the ground. She opened her mouth, but she couldn’t take in air.

He raised his sword. She stared up at him, gasping for breath, waiting for the blade to come down on her neck. Then an arrow whizzed past, hitting him just above his heart. He let out a horrible scream as he stumbled backward. He dropped his sword, instead pulling at the feathered end of the arrow, trying to get it out.

Snow White sat up. Standing just ten feet away was a young soldier, the bow still in his hands. He was tall and thin, with a square jaw and high cheekbones. He had thick, wavy brown hair that fell into his eyes and a subtle cleft in his chin. He stood there, watching her, a slight smile on his lips. She noticed the way he pushed the bow over his shoulder so it was slung across his back. There was something so familiar about that gesture. She recognized him—but from where?

The smoke rose up around them. The fire had spread to some of the trees. The women screamed as they took off toward the hills. The young man opened his mouth to speak, but Anna ran forward, grabbing Snow White by the arm.

“Come on!” she hissed. “There’s not much time.” She pointed to the muddy banks, where Finn’s men were starting up the hill, following them.

They turned and ran. A flaming arrow landed in the
ground beside them. Somewhere in the distance, a child was crying, the sobs sending chills through Snow White’s body. She followed Anna through the woods, running as fast as her legs could carry her. She glanced over her shoulder one last time, into the burning trees, but the boy was gone.

S
now White ran so fast she could barely breathe. She recognized that boy in the woods. She knew him from somewhere. And from the way he’d looked at her, she was certain he’d recognized her, too. But how?