Sneaky Snow White (Dark Fairy Tale Queen Series Book 2) (2 page)

“What’s the matter?” I can’t help asking. I’m still in the doorway and I won’t come closer. Cinderella pushes off The Mirror’s surface, face haggard, posture stooped.

“I don’t know what I did,” she says weakly. “It won’t… I can’t feel it.”

“You can’t feel The Mirror’s presence?” That’s odd, because I can feel it, thick as gravy. Lately, the feeling has grown stronger. I thought maybe The Mirror was gaining power, sucking life out of Cinderella. Or something like that.

Cinderella shakes her head, hugging herself. “It won’t comfort me. It’s like it doesn’t know I’m here.”

My eyes unintentionally rise to the glass and suddenly I feel it: the pull. Like a fishhook cast and sunk in my heart, it tugs me forward. The Mirror wants me to stand before it. And I find myself curious to hear what it has to say.

No! I take a hard step back and turn out to the hall where I can’t see it. “Cinderella! Get OUT of there, it’s making you sick!”

To my surprise, she slowly comes out. She looks like a sad little girl, all droopy. “I wonder why it doesn’t want me,” she murmurs.

“Forget that thing,” I snap. “I want to talk to you, but not here. Can we go downstairs?”

She nods and we descend the long, curling staircase. Shortly after becoming queen, Cinderella had all the floors resurfaced in black marble and it was a massive project. But the sitting room she wanted completely white, everything from the curtains to the carpet. She said it was how
her
stepmother’s sitting room had been. Considering she stabbed her own stepmother to death, I really don’t know why she’d want that.

I ring for a servant to bring us tea. Cinderella stretches out on a chaise lounge, her belly a dark mound, the black dress shocking against the white velvet. After a few sips of tea, some redness returns to her cheeks.

“Ready to talk?” I don’t actually feel sorry for her. There’s no need to take pity on a cold-hearted killer.

Cinderella nods. Her eyes flick over me, up to my face. “You’re looking very pretty today,” she mutters.

I shrug. “So what?”
Why
does she always have to talk about that? Cinderella is gorgeous, she’s got nothing to worry about. I wish she would try to think of something else.

“Anyway,” I say, “tomorrow is my sixteenth birthday. Unfortunately,
my father
won’t be here to celebrate it. But he always let me request a gift, one gift, whatever I wanted. And he always gave it.”

“You’re not a child anymore, Snowy,” Cinderella says. “More importantly, you’re not
my
child. Don’t expect a gift from me.”

Now I’m angry. That was really insensitive. “Look, all I want from you is an apple.”

Cinderella looks at me. “An apple?”

“Yes. The Wood is thick with them now.”

“Then go and pick one.”

“I will. But I want you to do something to it.”

“Do you fancy a pie for your birthday?”

“No. I want a Love Apple.”

Cinderella draws back, surprised. “How do you know about that?”

“I looked through your book of spells. I know you’ve tried a few, down in the dungeon.”

Cinderella shrugs. “A few. Some worked, some didn’t. Magic is harder than I thought. And I cannot make you a Love Apple.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s a light spell. Light Magic comes from love. Dark Magic comes from hate. That much I have learned. To make a Love Apple, I would need to feel love in my heart for someone. But I don’t.”

I narrow my eyes. “You love the baby.”

Cinderella smiles and slides a hand over her bump. “I look forward to the baby. But that’s not enough. Oh… did you find me a fairy?”

I roll my eyes. “Oh yes, she’s waiting just outside the door.”

Cinderella crooks an eyebrow at me. “Are you telling me that you failed?”

“Well no, I didn’t fail because I didn’t really try. Sorry, but life endangerment just isn’t my thing.”

Cinderella springs off the lounge and her hand swings high. I cringe, raising an arm to block the blow. But it doesn’t come. After a moment, she drops her hand and folds back onto the lounge like a ribbon of silk. “All right. I’ll do this the nice way.” She clasps her hands together. “If you find me a fairy, I will make you a Love Apple. Is that fair?”

“You just said you can’t make one.”

“I can try. The memories of my father might stir a little love. Why is it you want this apple?” She smirks. “Is it because of that boy?”

I stiffen. “You know about him?”

“I have watched you with him through The Mirror. He seems sweet.” Her smile is smeared with contempt.

She’s been watching me and Hunter? Our enchanted moments together, when he holds my face and stares silently into my eyes…. When we have whispered conversations, our lips an inch apart, kissing lightly between the words…. Those moments belong to me, and to Hunter, and not to anyone else. I could kill her –
kill her!
– for violating that.

Now I have two ways to punish Cinderella. First I’m going to steal her baby. Then I’m going to smash The Mirror.

Hunter offers me a small parcel, wrapped in brown cloth. He smiles. “Happy Birthday.”

Grinning, I lay the parcel in my lap and unfold the wrappings. “Oh! Hunter, it’s beautiful!” He has given me a dagger. A small dagger with a thin, steel blade and a handle studded with gemstones. It comes with an ivory sheath and white belt so I can wear it over my dress.

Hunter smiles. “I think you should wear it whenever you’re at home. If the queen is as dangerous as you say, you need some protection.”

I sigh. We’re sitting on our well, as usual, surrounded by the grove of glowing red apples. It feels so safe and serene here. I want it to be like this always, me and Hunter, side by side, our love a warm star that never stops shining. That’s why I need the Love Apple. To keep him with me.

“Hunter, I’m tired of living under her cloud. I’m of age now, I can leave my home and she can’t summon me back. We could find a place together, you and me, far away from here!”

“What about the baby?”

“We’ll take the baby with us.” To me it sounds perfect. Hunter and I living in a little cottage, raising the baby together. We would be like a family. A
happy
family, something I’ve never known.

Hunter slouches a little and kicks the heel of his boot against the well. I love how he dresses, so handsome and rugged. A white shirt, open at his throat, a brown leather vest, pants that show the thick muscles in his legs. “I don’t feel right about taking the baby,” he says. “It’s hers.”

“And my father was mine! But she had no scruples about taking him away from me. I have every right to take something from her, something just as precious.”

“I don’t think you miss your father.”

“What?”

Hunter looks at me, his dark eyes troubled. “You have always seemed angry about it. Not sad. I think you just resent that Cinderella got away with it. You told me yourself that he always ignored you. And that he was cruel sometimes.”

“He wasn’t perfect. But he was still my father, the only family I had left. Even my grandparents are gone.” My father’s parents, King Stephen and Queen Shelley, had been lost soon after Cinderella joined our family. Their carriage slid off a mountain road. Wouldn’t be surprised if Old Cinders was behind that too.

Hunter reaches around my shoulders and tugs me closer to him. “I’m sorry.” He kisses the side of my forehead. “I just want you to be happy.”

I take his free hand and bring it up to my cheek. “I am,” I whisper, closing my eyes against the warmth of his palm. He guides my face up to his and we kiss softly and slowly, barely moving to feel the beauty of it. My heart hurts with love for him… and I like the hurt.

And then I wonder if Cinderella is watching us.

I pull away from Hunter, sighing.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

I shake my head. “Nothing.” But I should have said “everything.” How can we be free if Cinderella can see us? I will have to destroy The Mirror soon. But I’m afraid to think about it.

Hunter smiles and bumps his shoulder against me. “Come on, it’s your birthday, let’s have some fun. I’ll let you try out my new crossbow.”

“Really?” I hop onto the grass. Hunter lifts up a sturdy crossbow he had propped against the well. He bought it only a few days ago and said the arrows fly swifter and straighter than those of a long bow. Makes it easier for him to hunt large animals.

“Wait.” I pick up my new dagger, slip it into its sheath, and fasten the white belt around my hips. The dagger hangs at my side, the gemstones like flashing bits of color over my white dress. “How do I look?” I tuck my arms behind my back.

Hunter grins. “Like an angel. But deadly.”

He transfers the crossbow into my hands. “Oh, it’s heavy!” I laugh as my arms sink beneath it. With a grunt, I hoist the bow higher.

“Try shooting an apple. No, not yet! Wait until I get behind you!” Hunter laughs, steps around me, and places his hand on my back. “Choose an apple, aim steady, and fire.”

I pull the trigger and hear the snap and whistle of the arrow. Hunter and I wait in silence. “I don’t think I killed an apple,” I say.

“Try again,” he says cheerfully. He takes the crossbow and loads another arrow into it.

“Maybe we can use this to find a fairy!” I cry. “I’ll place an apple on my head and you can shoot it off me. That might make a fairy think I’m in danger.” I know it sounds crazy but I really want the Love Apple.

Hunter looks horrified.

“I have faith in you,” I say.

“And I’m flattered. But….” He takes my chin and looks at me in a way that paralyzes my body, holds me prisoner in his eyes. “I will not risk your life, my Snow Queen. Other than that, there is nothing I won’t do for you.”

I wink at him. “I will remember that.”

I feel happy as I walk home. Hunter and I have it all figured out. He’s going to find a place for us. A cottage deep in The Wood. If he can’t find one, he says he can build it. Don’t know how he’ll manage that, but it doesn’t matter. I would live in a cave with Hunter.

For once, the palace doesn’t feel foreboding as I enter. It’s like the poisonous air evaporated and I feel welcomed and loved. Even the walls seem glad to see me.

And then I hear the screaming.

I was just about to go up to my room, but now I turn in the middle of the main corridor. It’s far away but unmistakable. Long, trailing wails of agony, a grinding screech of rage and grief. My blood chills through at the sound of it.

I whirl around and race toward the screaming. There’s only two things I can think of: either someone is actively torturing Cinderella, or she’s about to have her baby.

I fly through the rooms and climb the curling staircase up to her chamber. The shrieks cut through my bones as I near the doors and I feel sickened with fear. Whatever is happening to her is truly horrific. I don’t want to see, but I know I have to.

Two palace guards stand outside the doors, both of them pale. “What’s
happening?
” I shout at them.

“We don’t know,” says the guard on the left. “She won’t let us in, we were talking of breaking down the doors.”

“CINDERELLA!” I push through the guards and bang my fist on the wood. “Cinderella, open up! What is happening to you?”

The screams cut off so suddenly I wonder if she died. But then I heard a shuffling, a scraping, rapid footsteps to the doors. I take a step back.

The doors snap open.

“It’s YOOOU!” Cinderella screams. I’ve barely caught a glimpse of her wild eyes and fiery cheeks before she swings one of the iron candelabras at me. I gasp and dive sideways as the iron smashes the marble floor with a thunderous bang. “YOU!” She shrieks again, heaving the stick high.

“Cinderella!” I drop to the floor as she swings the iron again and it crashes through the window behind me, glass exploding. I scramble to the staircase on my knees and grab the railing.

“Get her, grab her, KILL HER!” Cinderella screams at the guards. But I guess they realize she’s gone stark mad because they eye each other nervously and don’t move.

I pull myself up and run down the stairs.

“Come BACK here, Stepchild!”

The iron candelabra hurtles past my head and hits the curling wall ahead of me. I gasp as it clangs down the marble steps, deafening as hammer blows. I shoot a frantic look over my shoulder. Cinderella is coming after me and now she’s got a sword, probably one of the guard’s. Her face is grimy-wet with tears and her hair is chaotic, loose shards hanging all over.

“STOP!” I cry out. I’m nearly at the bottom. I hear her grunt and something whistles past my shoulder, leaving a burning pain. Her crown – it cut me. She’s throwing everything she’s got on her.

I reach the floor but she’s right at my heels. I drop again and hear the sword swish the air above my head. But she swung too hard and it flies from her hands, spinning across the floor of the parlor.

I try to stand up but she lunges and grabs the hem of my white dress.

“STOP IT! STOP!” I scream, frantically kicking my feet. She looks like a black spider crawling over me, especially with her bulging middle. “What is WRONG with you!”

“It doesn’t
want
me anymore. It wants
you.
” She says through her teeth. We’re both writhing on the floor as she claws her way up my dress. “
You
are fairest!
You
are perfect! And today you’re all… grown… up. So now it wants
you.
”

I’m panting so hard my voice is in my breaths. My hands are tingling, painfully cold. She’s got her weight on my chest, her face above mine. A red, sweating face with wet eyelashes and bared teeth. Eyes like flashing flames of blue.

“This is about the stupid MIRROR?” I shout.

“You can’t…
have
it!” She snarls. “I will rip out your heart with my fingernails if I have to!”

Suddenly, I remember Hunter’s gift. Reaching down, I yank the dagger out of its sheath, slashing it across her body. She gasps and pulls off me, her mouth opening wide. Her hand presses the underside of her chest.

I don’t wait to see more. I spring up and dash across the parlor. I reach the main hallway and turn to the tall, double doors that lead out of the castle. She’s screaming at me to come back but the sound is reassuring. She’s not chasing me.