Forbidden (A New Adult Paranormal Romance) (13 page)

“Idiot. They study insects there, not the other way around. The Lapp King is known for being a patron to the sciences.” Gustav sounded eager. “In fact, their astronomy faculty hosts the best telescope in the world. They have plenty of night sky to study the whole year round, and there’s the incredible Aurora Borealis.”

“I’m glad you approve of my choice.” Not being able to see their faces made her imagine all sorts of things, like one of the twins making monkey faces behind her back. That was the least of it. For all she knew, Wilhem might have an arrow pointed at her anatomy somewhere, ready to barrel should she so much as pop another seam on her increasingly tightening bodice.

Snow White felt the knife being placed in her hand again. “Woman with the jade earring,” Wilhem said in her ear.

You are merciless
, she thought.

The painting was on her right, next to a window. Once again, she estimated the distance and flung the knife before her crowding thoughts could dampen her accuracy. A dull thud issued from the wall. Her elation surged.

“Now I get to ask a question,” Gustav said. “How will you persuade the Lapp king to build you a university?”

Snow White hadn’t given it much thought. “I’ll seek an audience with him and present a compelling argument.”

“Why should he listen to you?”

She was flummoxed. Because I’m a princess. Because I’m . . . persuasive. Then again, now that she was forced to think more about it, was using her princess title with the Lapp King so wise an option? She might be putting the whole of Lapland into jeopardy. Word would get back to the Queen that she was seeking sanctuary there, and Isobel would demand the princess to be sent back. Or there would be war.

“Because I’m a great field scientist,” she said. Her nerves were beginning to feel like they’d been squeezed through a clothes wringer.

“So are plenty of other people. I’m a great field astronomer, but no king is going to give me the time of day.”

“Because I’m beautiful,” Snow White said in a rush. “I’ll use my beauty to gain an audience and convince him.”

Silence.

“Do you think she has what it takes?” Wilhem finally said.

“Hell, yes,” Gustav replied.

More silence. The cold feel of steel on her palm again. “Frog brazier,” Wilhem said.

This was a ploy, she was certain. The plan was to scuttle her concentration, send her mind into the clouds. Tom Cherry was never as devious as this pair. Perhaps the twins were evil after all. Seeds never stray far from the bad apple.

The frog brazier was the trickiest. It squatted beside a low sprawling seat and was partially blocked by a tall Venetian glass vase. This robber den was big on hoarding expensive stuff. Worse yet, she could only vaguely picture the brazier’s direction. The questions had turned her mind to slush on the ground after a heavy rain.

Gritting her teeth, Snow White flung the knife with all her might at where she thought she’d last seen the brazier. If she was going to lose, might as well do it with force. Perhaps she would have no choice but to take Gustav hostage after all, if she could figure out how to get around Wilhem’s expert bowmanship.

Gretel was right. The twins could take care of themselves very well.

A clang. Something thudded against the soft carpet. Snow White whipped off her blindfold, almost afraid to look. The brazier lay sprawled on the floor next to the surprisingly unbroken vase.

“You missed the first one,” Wilhem remarked. He pointed at the lamp with the dragon nightshade, still intact upon its perch.

Snow White’s mind spun. She saw herself leaping behind Gustav and wrenching his arm behind him. Where was the damned knife?

“That’s why we asked you all those questions,” Wilhem explained. “You already lost on your very first throw. We wanted to see if your quest is worthy enough.”

A butterfly pulse began to flutter in her neck. “Worthy enough for what?”

Gustav grinned. “You might be the one we’re looking for after all. You see, we’re not only going to let you go. We’re coming along with you.”

#

“But why?” Snow White said in a daze.

“Because I want to be the best astronomer in the world and I’m not going to be able to do it here. I want to go places. Be out there in the world I’ve only read about.” Gustav swept both arms around. “There’s an observatory in Rova, Lapland’s capital, where the world’s astronomers gather annually to see the Aurora. That’s the Northern Lights in commonspeak, just in case you’re as challenged as Wilhem here.”

“Hey.” Wilhem swiped at his brother’s head.

“It’s true. Since you’re so confident of charming the King with your beauty, Mantodea, you can persuade him to let me be a major member of the observatory.”

Wilhem nodded. “There’s an archery school in Mansk, outside Rova. You can get me into that too.”

“But you’re only twelve.” Snow White’s eyes roamed back and forth their identical faces. “What about your parents?”

“Won’t miss them. All we need is an old biddy like you to get us ship tickets and stuff,” Gustav intoned solemnly. “If we had that much money with us, folks are going to think we stole it.”

“You did steal it,” Snow White pointed out.

Gustav rolled his eyes. “Acorns are not to be blamed for the deeds of the oak.”

“And I’m not an old biddy. I’m only sixteen.”

“Technicalities.” Gustav waved his hand. “So are we going or what?”

“We’re in a tower accessible by only one stairway, and the only door to it is locked,” Snow White said. She was still winded by the sudden turn of events. Outside the window, lightning zigzagged in a devil’s trident, followed by thunder so loud that it juddered her eardrums.

“Whatever we’re going to do,” Wilhem said, “we’d better do it fast.”

Rain began to spatter the window sill.

“Right,” Snow White said. Her mind was a jangled mess of half-formed thoughts. She strode into the hallway and into another chamber. She stopped short when she saw the bed. “What is this?”

Gustav wrapped his neck around the doorway. “Oh, it’s thirty mattresses stacked on top of one another.”

Wilhem chimed in, “Old wives’ way of telling if you’re a virgin by putting a pea into your – ”

“ – under the bottommost mattress, technically,” Gustav interrupted.

Snow White studied the stacked mattresses all the way up to the ceiling. She noted the sheets layering each mattress and the ladder against the pile. Her eyes gleamed.

Two minutes later, Wilhem was on top of the ladder, stripping off the sheets. Dust motes swirled like snowflakes. The brightly patterned pieces of cloth billowed as they floated gaily down. On the floor below, Snow White and Gustav tied the ends of the sheets together to form a makeshift ladder, adding knots for footholds.

“You missed that bit over there,” Gustav said.

“Do it yourself,” Snow White shot back.

When they finished, Snow White surveyed the grounds. Outside, the rain poured down as if heaven’s trapdoor were sprung. She could make out the whipping trees as the wind rustled through them with a constant whooooooo. Wilhem was right. It was now or never.

She flung the sheet-ladder out of the window. A torrent of rain spattered her face. Water wormed into her nostrils and she spluttered.

“I actually have vertigo,” Gustav announced.

“Deal with it,” Wilhem said unkindly. He looped the other end of the sheet around a wall lamp fixture and tied several complicated knots to secure it.

“I suppose now isn’t the time to say I’m a little overwhelmed by all this,” Gustav whispered to Snow White.

She nodded, understanding. He was only twelve after all. “Is that thing going to hold?” she asked Wilhem worriedly.

“Only one way to find out.” Wilhem swung to his brother. “Seeing as you’re a scaredy-cat, you better go first before this thing breaks.”

“I’m not scared, I just have vertigo!”

“Same thing.”

“Rear orifice.”

“What did you call me?”

Gustav went first into the slinging rain. Visibility was so poor that Snow White was sure he had been blown away by the storm. She pictured Gustav floating like a kite towards Lapland, his yells snatched away by the wind. After an interminable period, she felt two sharp tugs on the sheet ladder. She hurriedly threw her shoes out of the window, wondering if she would ever see them again.

She grabbed the hemline of her gorgeous dress and hiked it up above her knees, aware of Wilhem’s eyes on her legs. As she vaulted over the sill, the wind immediately knocked her against the wall. She clung precariously on. The rain struck her with sharp pellets that stung like pine needles. Down, down, one step at a time, she repeated to herself to the tune of an old nursery rhyme that Hanna Cherry used to croon to her. Home seemed so far away that she felt a sudden pang despite the blistering cold. Oh, what she would give for things to go back to the way they were – when she was ugly (comparatively), young, and blissfully unaware of anything but insects.

Before she knew it, the balls of her feet struck bottom and she almost fell.

“Here he comes.” Gustav’s face turned skyward into the lashing rain.

Wilhem’s falling silhouette was a stark puppet against the lighted oblong of the window. He bounced beside them, as sprightly as a cat.

“Quit showing off,” Gustav said.

“Quit talking out of the wrong hole.”

They sped to a cluster of dark structures, occasionally lit by a lightning fork. As they approached, Snow White could smell the pong of excrement and wet horse flesh. Excited neighs greeted them as they entered the stables. In her sodden gown, Snow White almost tripped over a bale of hay. Every memory of why she hated fussy dresses came back rushing to form an expletive on her tongue, which she bit back in present company.

The twins saddled three horses while Snow White kept an anxious lookout. The rain continued to drum upon the stable roof.

“Do you think anyone’s seen us?” she said.

“No, but the way you’re shouting,” Gustav said, “they are bound to hear us. Come on.” He held out the reins of something big, black and heaving. “I assume you can ride.”

The stable suddenly flared to light. Snow White started back in fright. A figure at the doorway held up an oil lamp, yellow flame flickering upon its wick. The shadow it cast on the stable wall was like the Grim Reaper’s itself.

“Going somewhere?” Gretel inquired politely, the large butcher’s knife gleaming in her other hand.

CHAPTER TEN

“Please,” Snow White said in a rush, “this is my fault. The twins have nothing to do with this. I talked them into helping me.” The air rushed in her ears and panic spilled into her mouth. When did she start caring so much about the twins?

With his blond hair plastered wetly around his neck, Gustav shot her a withering look. “She didn’t talk us into anything we didn’t want to do.” He turned back to Gretel. “We’re going to Lapland.”

“Sssssh.” Snow White flapped her hands.

“I’m going to be the next Omar Khayyam and Wilhem is going to be the next Robin Hood.”

“William Tell,” Wilhem put in.

“Whatever. And Mantodea here is going to open a bug farm.”

“An entomology university,” Snow White said nervously.

Gretel halted several feet away from Wilhem, who for some strange reason did not have an arrow notched in his bow. Perhaps he too was as spooked as she was. The butcher’s knife caught the lamplight suggestively. Snow White thought of her own stolen knife amidst the toppled brazier far, far away. In her haste, she had forgotten it.

Gustav said to Gretel, “You want to be the best chef in the world, not just this closeted village where the eats you make are likely to be puked out in morning sickness.”

He’s trying to talk her out of it, Snow White thought. Can cannibals be negotiated with?

“You know we’ve been wanting out for a long time,” Wilhem added. “You’ve been thinking about it yourself, but your love for Grandmam kind of chained you down. Mantodea here is going to get us an audience with the Lapp King. By the looks of her, she can do it too.”

Yes, I can. Snow White wondered if the three of them could collectively charge Gretel. Or better still, scare one of the horses into creating a ruckus. Her eyes darted to the nearest horse, whose reins were still in Gustav’s surprisingly steady hands. Why wasn’t Wilhem doing anything violent?

“So do you want to come with us . . . Mother?” Gustav said.

Snow White gasped.

Her knife still raised, Gretel appraised her twin sons. The look on her peasant face was measured. Wilhem’s cheeks were flushed while Gustav suddenly wore the look of a hunted wolf.

Snow White couldn’t help noticing details – a single white hair in the otherwise nut brown tail of the nearest horse, Gretel’s multilayered green dress falling like wet leaves.

Did cannibals eat their own children?

All three swung their heads to Snow White. The silence was crushing. She took an uncertain step backwards. There was no physical resemblance between mother and children, but the intensity in their gazes was identical.