Snow White (Enchanted Fairytales) (4 page)

Blithe was the shortest. He stood at least half a foot shorter than Snow. He was endlessly cheerful, and seemed to be the leader of the group. He was bald on top, with short white hair around the base of his head. He wore a rounded pair of glasses which rode on the end of his nose. Apparently he only needed them to read and otherwise peered over the top of them. Where Coy was thin, Blithe was rounded. The others
’
heights all varied between Blithe and Coy.

Grouchy sat across the table from her and Medic, watching. He had a scowl etched onto his face. He grunted with each exhalation, and Snow wondered if he even knew he did. His scruffy
face was
in need of a shave.

Dozy seemed excessively tired, yawning quite often. He was clean shaven as they all were except for Grouchy. Medic was all business as he tended to her, business-like and compassionate at the same time. Sneezer sneezed again and Medic looked up.

“Been taking the allergy medication I made you?” he asked.

Sneezer glanced at him and away, shrugging. “Sometimes.”

“Won’t work if you don’t take it all the time,” Medic remarked, turning back to his examination of her. “Well, you look
a little dehydrated and quite
hungry, but not as bad as you could have been for three days of wandering.”

“I found a creek,” Snow said, “and followed it. That way I at least had
water to drink.”

“Smart girl,” Medic proclaimed, gathering his equipment and repacking it in his bag.
“But you should have drunk more.”

“And why was the ‘smart girl’ wandering in the forest for three days?” Grouchy asked. He leaned both elbows on the table, leveling his gaze on her.

“I got lost when I entered the forest,” Snow said. It wasn’t
exactly
a lie. She was lost. “I wasn’t sure how to get back out. Any chance one of you can help me?”

They all glanced at one another again. Finally Medic stood, his place taken by Blithe. “You’ve never been in the forest before, have you?” Grouchy scoffed and Blithe shot him a withering glance. Snow shook her head. “Do you live near the forest?” he asked gently.

“Yes, I live in—”

Blithe held up a hand. “It doesn’t matter. You don’t have to tell us where you live.”

Snow was relieved. Sh
e’d been
trying to
remember the name of any of the other towns surrounding the forest other than the one she was from. Then his words sunk in.

“Why doesn’t it matter?”

Blithe sighed, looking at the others before returning his attention to her. “You’ve stumbled upon Fableton.” When she just stared at him, no recognition for the name showing on her face, he continued. “No one leaves Fableton, Snow
White
. Never have.”

Snow pushed away from the table, standing. “What do you mean?” She couldn’t keep the quiver from her voice.
She glanced toward the door.

“We won’t keep you here,” Blithe said. “The curse takes care of that on its own.”

“Curse?”

Blithe sighed again,
tired
ly
. “It’s a long story, and not mine to tell. Eat some dinner, get a good night’s rest, and tomorrow you can do the thing you’re itching to do right now, which is get outside and test what I’ve told you.”

Sno
w glanced at the door again and
moved toward it
.
They all looked at her, but no one moved to stop her. She opened the door and stepped outside. Glancing back in showed that none of them came her way.

However, just then Coy walked over to the table, placing a large pan of some kind of steaming food on the table. Dozy set down a big bowl of salad. Snow’s stomach grumbled. The peach and apple hadn’t done much to cure
her hunger. Coy smiled at Snow
then dropped his eyes back to the table, shifting back and forth from foot to foot nervously.

Snow glanced behind her into the darkening night. She had no idea where she was and was likely to get lost again. She didn’t know if she’d survive another night with the
little
food she had in her. She turned and went back in.

*****

Snow broke through the trees, falling to her knees in frustration at the sight of the cottage before her.
Grouchy sat in a chair, arms crossed over his chest, and Snow could have sworn he was laughing beneath the scowl. The others had long since given up and gone inside.

She’d been running for three hours now. No matter which way she went, no matter what ways she marked the path to be certain not to backtrack, she always ended up back at the cottage. She threw he
r
hands skyward and let out a half-growl, half-scream.

“Wanna come inside for some lunch now?” Grouchy asked.

“Why?” she demanded.

“Because it’s lunch time. And I’m hungry.”

“No! Why is this happening? How are you doing this?”

Grouchy stood. “It isn’t us, as we’ve told you. We’ve also told you it isn’t our story to tell. If you’re ready to believe us, we’ll take you to the one whose story it is.”

“And how are we supposed to find him? Every path leads back here.”

Grouchy nodded. “That’s because you haven’t been anywhere else. Once you’re shown other places, you’ll be able to find them easily enough.”

“You’re saying there are other places and people here, but I can’t see them until you show them to me?”

“Sounds about right,” Grouchy said.

Snow scoffed. “That’s ridiculous.”

Grouchy turned and pulled the door open. Before entering, he said, “You don’t want to miss out on lunch. You’re too skinny.”

Snow stared after him, huffing out a frustrated breath. She ran her fingers through her hair that desperately needed to be washed.
She looked around at the towering trees.
Well, guess I may as well eat something and maybe get a shower before I’m ‘shown’ around
, she thought.

After she’d eaten and showered, Snow felt much better.

“Alright, let’s go get the story,” she said to the seven men who sat on the couches and chairs watching Dozy and Medic play a
card
game. Seven pairs of eyes glanced up at her, then they all began making motions to leave.

“I don’t need all of you, do I?”

Blithe answered. “When we go, we go togethe
r. Besides, none of us
work
ed
today, so we should probably show up for at least a short time. We’ll drop you off and then pick you up to come home later.”

“Oh.” Snow didn’t say she was hoping to find somewhere else to stay. She didn’t think she should continue to stay alone with seven men.

“Why do you wear breeches?” Grouchy asked as they walked. “All you
r
clothes are strange.”

I glanced down at my jeans and t-shirt. The Seven all wore clothing that looked like it
was straight out of a storybook:
pants that ended just below their knees where their socks began, black
high-top
shoes that laced
up
, off-white twill shirts covered with vests.

“This is what we wear in . . . at home.”

Grouchy grunted, but didn’t say anything further.

They led her from the cottage in the same direction she’d last left. She saw her piles of rocks lying on the ground
. S
he paid close attention to details, trying to memorize the path they walked. At about the time Snow would have been bursting back into the cottage
’
s clearing,
the came upon
a small village of cottages similar to th
e one Snow was staying in with The S
even.
She glanced behind her at the path they’d just come in on. It looked entir
ely different now than the many times she’d traveled
it this morning.

The
y
continued past the cottages, from which Snow
spotted
people watching their passage. Less than five minutes later they came upon what Snow could only describe as a castle. It was large and white, shining in the sun as if it were covered with a layer of ice. The spires reached heavenward, disappearing into the clouds. She blinked, sure she must be hallucinating again. The castle remained, as beautiful and mysterious as before.

Blithe waved Snow forward. He pointed. “Do you see that bridge down there?”

Snow looked. The bridge crossed a small stream. There wasn’t anyone or anything anywhere near the bridge. “Yes.”

“Follow this path,” he said, pointing to the stone path beneath their feet. “Once you cross over the bridge, you’ll find him.”

“Who?”

“The man whose story it is to tell.
We’ll be waiting for you when you return.”

The seven of them turned a
nd left
as
Snow watched them. At the last second, Grouchy met her eyes. He reached out and gave her a reassuring squeeze on the arm. As they rounded a bend in the path, Snow called out, “What do I ask him?”

“Ask him to tell you,” Medic called.

“Either he’ll tell you,” Sneezer yelled.

“Or he won’t,” Dozy said as they disappeared.

Snow placed her hands on her hips. “Cr
yptic much?” she murmured. S
he turned back to the bridge.

The path
looked harmless enough. Of course, so had everything else weird in this place. What choice did she have? She walked down the hill, keeping her feet and eyes on the path. She’d already been lost enough for one lifetime.
If
sh
e stepped off the path, she might not
find it again.

As
she stepped o
n the bridge, she felt a slight rumble beneath her feet. She stopped, looking down. Nothing appeared any different than it should. She waited. It didn’t come again, so she too
k another tentative step. Again
nothing
,
so she continued on.
Everything suddenly changed when she stepped off t
he other sid
e of the bridge
.

She no longer stood on the empty plot of grassy land next to the castle. Instead, she stood in a dense thicket of dripping willow trees, their branches brushing the ground. Only instead of being the dark green she associated with willows, they were dark red. The color reminded her of the strawberries that grew outside of her home, planted and tended by Katarina. They were darker than normal strawberries, and Snow had never tasted them. They weren’t natural. Neither were these willows.

The path had disappeared both beneath her feet and
behind her
. Knowing she’d never find her way back unt
il she completed whatever
the men had set her to do, she moved forward, ducking beneath the branches. She reached to push one out of her way, then stopped at the feel of it. The leaves were soft, like feathers.

W
ood being chopped caught her attention. Looking ahead, she couldn’t see anything though she could discern the direction. She followed the sound and soon
spied
a man swinging an axe high over his head, bringing it down on a piece of wood, cleanly splitting it in two. It was impressive, the power behind the swing and the perfect cut in the wood.

He stopped, picking up a container and taking a
drink from it. Should
she should call out to him
, or wait for him to notice her?
She examined him. He was wearing a royal blue vest over a white shirt. Not just any vest, one that looked like it had jumped right out of the fifteenth century or something. His white shirt had loose sleeves. His pants were a light brown color, and
because his back was to her, Snow
couldn’t tell if they were a normal, modern day pair of pants, or something that be
longed
with his other clothing
.

His dark hair curled over the top of his collar. As he tipped his head back to drink, she
studied
his strong jaw that had the slightest darkening of stubble on it, as if he’d shaved but would soon need another. His throat worked as he swallowed. She really wanted him to put the jug down and turn her way so she could see him full on.

“Finished looking?” he called
as he set the jug down
. Snow blushed, well aware that she had been doing exactly
that—looking. He turned her way and her jaw dropped. He was not just good-looking as she’d suspected, but
gorgeous
. She couldn’t think of anyone she’d ever seen, in life or in one of Channy’s magazines, who could hold a candle to this guy.

He waited and Snow belatedly remembered he was wa
iting for her to speak. “Oh,
sorry,” she said, wanting to smack herself on the head for her embarrassing display. “I didn’t know if I should interrupt.” Her cheeks flushed again with the lame excuse.