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Do not listen to it,Snow White’s voice murmurs in my mind.Come back to me.
Just then the sun peeks over the horizon, and Anansi squeals, disappearing back into its cave. “Well done, Cassian of Valderán. You will find the Oracle due north, two day’s walk from here.”
I jerkily get to my feet, swaying as the fatigue returns in force. “Thank you,” I reply to the trickster and stumble away from the cave, turning myself north.
Chapter 14
Snow White
Aflickeroflightdances beyond my closed eyelids, causing me to recoil into the soft pillows behind my head. My hand opens and closes over the velvety blanket covering me, and for just a moment, I think I’m in my room in the palace.
Cracking my eyes open, I blink against the brightness, struggling to bring the room into focus. My vision slowly sharpens, and the ceiling above me comes into focus. Dark wooden beams run down its length, breaking the white expanse. Three arched Gothic windows line the wall opposite me, and I can just make out the forest beyond.
I’m most definitely not in my room. My heart thrashes in my chest, closing off my throat. I gasp, desperately trying to claw air into my lungs as my gaze swings wildly around the room. I tear the blankets back, determined to escape, only to find my horrified gaze locked on the thin sticks that used to be my legs.
A low moan rips from my mouth as I inspect my arms and hands, finding them in a similar condition to my legs. They tremble violently with the exertion of raising them, but I carry on, gently touching my face and hair. Sobs rack my shoulders when my questing fingers find protruding cheekbones and butchered hair.
I don’t understand what is happening. My mind feels sluggish and lazy, as if I’ve been asleep for a very long time. My body is not my own, and I don’t know where I am. A myriad of thoughts slither around my brain, but holding on to one is impossible. They are as slippery as eels, here one minute, gone the next.
I manage to push myself into a sitting position, shifting the pillows behind my back to be more comfortable. My eyes ping-pong around the cozy room, taking in the gleaming wooden floor, braided rug, and small dresser with a vase of wildflowers sitting cheerfully on top.
Blue, blue skies with white fluffy clouds. Run, run, run. Shrieks of laughter under a golden sun. Rainbow birds and a flower crown; green, green eyes spinning me ’round and ’round.
My breath catches in my throat when memories begin to tear themselves out of the dark recesses of my mind. Raw, pent-up emotions claw their way through to the surface, threatening to drown me. I quickly push them back down, mentally backing away. But underneath, there lies a swirling mass of red and black, a boiling, bubbling fury so great it threatens to annihilate me. Its intensity terrifies me, so I shove it aside along with the memories, determined to examine them later.
The wooden door cracks open, and a child with extraordinary white-blonde hair backs into the room pulling a cart of sorts with her. My brows shoot up when she wheels around and I discover she isn’t a child, but a dwarf. Her cornflower-blue eyes widen dramatically when she sees me sitting up, and her face splits into a wide grin.
“Sisters,” she calls. “Come quickly, the princess is awake!” She abandons the cart in the corner of the room and dashes toward me.
I yank the blankets up, my eyes peeking from over the top. My hands shake nervously when I hear a stampede of footsteps pound outside the doorway, and moments later, six other women pour in. All are rather short in stature, and all have the same blue eyes. Their hair colors range from the deepest black to the palest blonde, with auburns and browns thrown in for variety. Each is stunningly beautiful, and I cringe, feeling dirty and ugly in their presence.
The one with the white-blonde hair speaks first. “Princess Snow White, I am Hilda. These are my sisters, Kelda, Linne, Nissa, Runa, Selma, and Thyra.” Each woman raises a hand when her name is called and offers a range of smiles—some big, some small, and some right in between.
My gaze bounces between each of them, and some of the fear I first felt dissipates with the friendly smiles and glances. I’ve known enough evil to recognize it quickly, and these women show no signs of such infestation. I inch the blanket down until it’s tucked against my chest and give them a tremulous smile in return. “Hello,” I croak out, my voice rusty from disuse. “Where am I?”
The women all start talking at once, hands moving excitedly. Hilda, who seems to be in charge, clears her throat and looks pointedly at her sisters. They sheepishly close their mouths and lower themselves to the floor, tucking their legs under them. Hilda snags a nearby chair and places it by the bed before lowering herself onto it.
“What do you remember?”
Dropping the blanket to let it pool in my lap, I take a deep breath and push back the darkness surrounding my mind. Searching through vague memories, I pluck one out and examine it. “I was in the dungeons at the palace.”
She nods encouragingly. “Do you remember how you got here?” My brows lower, thinking, then I shake my head slowly. “Alaric the huntsman brought you to us. He found you unresponsive and was worried you wouldn’t survive much longer. He smuggled you out of the palace and brought you here.”
Forcing a swallow down my throat, I ask quietly, “And where is here?”
The sister with rich auburn hair pipes up. Linne, I think her name is. “You are in Monarch Glen.”
“I’m afraid I am not familiar with that. Are we still in Valderán?”
The sisters all nod as one. The one with hair as black as mine says, “We’re a hundred miles or so from the kingdom of Alba, in the far northeastern corner of Valderán.”
It takes me a moment to place where we are, having to reach deep to remember the geography lessons my tutor once gave me. Sadly, my education has been somewhat lacking the past few years.
Vague half memories of being on horseback play in my mind, and I wonder if that is when Alaric brought me here. My heart warms when I think of the many kindnesses Alaric afforded me over the years. He may not have been able to visit me often in the dungeons, but I always appreciated the small gifts he brought and the scraps of news he shared about Cas—
My body freezes, my mind scrambling away from the name. Rage bubbles in my veins, and I once more choke it down. The sisters gasp around me, some backing away. “Your eyes,” Thyra murmurs.
Hilda rises from the chair and steps forward, worry evident in her features. She gently lifts my chin and peers into my eyes. Her brows lower for a moment, then her face clears, a small smile replacing the frown. “Ah. I suspected as much.”
