Poison (12 page)

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Authors: Sarah Pinborough

BOOK: Poison
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‘I know you all want me to go,’ he said. ‘And I should go.

For all your sakes. But I can’t. I can’t leave her.’ A single tear trickled down his perfect face. ‘I think it would kill me.’

‘You have to take her with you,’ Dreamy said. ‘You have to take her back to your kingdom.’

‘What?’ The prince looked up.

‘I’ll come with you to the border. She’s not safe here.’

‘But your kingdom and mine…’

‘I know,’ Dreamy said. There was a war between them. Of course. He had been naïve. Not anymore. Dreamy was growing up fast today. ‘But you must keep her safe until her father returns. Until we can figure out what the curse is and how to lift it.’

‘And then I will marry her and our two kingdoms will be unified at last.’ The prince’s shoulders were straightening already.

‘I’ll prepare the cart,’ Dreamy said. ‘The Queen’s Guard are searching the dwarf cottages. If we move now and stay away from those paths then we have a chance of getting out of the forest and away from the clutches of the castle by nightfall. But we have to move now.’

8

‘A lost prince and a cursed princess’

T
hey had worked quickly, and were on the road within an hour. Dreamy had cleared the evidence from the cottage and then they lifted the coffin onto the back of the dusty wooden cart and covered it with an old blanket before surrounding it with firewood and bags of potatoes and old vegetables in the hope that it would pass at least a brief inspection. They’d harnessed the dwarves’ old, tired pony, that had done no more than the occasional trip to market for years, and the forest had let them through.

The first half an hour had been a tense affair until they were away from the main tracks and onto rockier, less well used terrain. The dwarf led them, the pony responding best to his familiar clicks and tugs on the rein, and the prince brought up the rear. They didn’t speak much and the prince didn’t mind. The quiet meant the dwarf was focused and on the lookout for danger. For his own part, he kept one hand on the hilt of his sword, hidden beneath his cloak which was turned inside out and covered in mud to darken its colours. He might look like a thief, he’d decided, but he certainly didn’t look like a travelling prince.

He rested one hand on the cart and wished Snow White’s frozen face wasn’t hidden from both him and the sunlight. He hated the thought of that stinking blanket covering her like a shroud. She was too beautiful and tragic and perfect for that. Dreamy was right, she was safer this way, but he didn’t have to like it. There was nothing noble or regal about being transported in fear, on the back of a dirty cart. Maybe when he got back to the castle he’d change the story. For her sake, as much as his. He remembered his injury and all that came
before
he’d wandered and found the dwarves. He shuddered. There would be a few stories that would have to be changed. But still, the dwarves had saved his life and brought him
this
sleeping beauty, and for that he would forever be grateful. When he was home he would send riches back to them as a reward.

In the absence of his missing companion the prince might never have found his way out of this kingdom and back to his own, but the little dwarf up ahead seemed never to be lost, instead steadily picking his way along the narrow paths and choosing between two or three at a crossroads with a confident ease. The prince was glad. Now that he had secured his princess he couldn’t wait to get home. He’d had enough of adventures. The castle of light, jousts and dancing; that’s all he wanted. His prince’s life again. He shivered with pleasure at the thought. This mining kingdom was rough and brutal compared to his own, where courtly manners and beautiful things were treasured, and music and society balls filled the evenings. His heart ached to be there with his exquisite princess by his side. He would have his father scour the land for the finest magicians there were, to undo whatever curse had been laid upon her. He would save her and she would love him as he loved her and they would live happily ever after.

His feet trudged on in pace with the pony that might not have been swift but was at least steady, and after a few hours, Dreamy began to hum. Although the tune was coarse and clumsy compared to the minuets they played at home, he’d grown used to the dwarf songs, and he joined in. Maybe there were parts of the dwarf life he would miss. The brotherhood. The unspoken friendships and loyalties. Both things that were so hard to find when born of royal blood.

‘You’re not singing it right.’

The gruff voice came from behind them, and the prince turned fast, drawing his sword.

‘You could take a man’s eye out with that,’ Grouchy said, emerging from the bushes and onto the rocky track. ‘A taller man’s eye, admittedly.’

‘What are you doing here?’ Dreamy asked as he rushed towards the older dwarf. ‘Are you angry? I couldn’t wait. I’m sorry. I thought this was for the best. There was no time to—’

‘Stop babbling.’ Grouchy swatted at the air as if Dreamy’s words were irritating flies. ‘You did the right thing. We heard about the queen’s hunt at the mines when the next shift came in, and as you hadn’t showed up I came looking for you. Saw your note in the chimney.’ He slapped Dreamy on the shoulder. ‘That was good thinking. Where Snow White used to leave us messages.’ He nodded at the prince. ‘But I thought I’d come and keep you company. Dwarves aren’t solitary creatures and it’ll be a long walk back when these two are safe.’

‘Thank you, Grouchy.’ Dreamy looked as if he might burst into tears of relief, and the prince wondered at how little he really knew these hardy men. A fear of walking alone was not one he’d imagined in someone who was finding his way so well through the forest. ‘It’s good to have you along,’ he said, and smiled. ‘Now teach us how to sing it properly.’

They sang quietly together, the prince daydreaming of home and Snow White dancing at his side, and day slowly shifted into afternoon and then into the strange grey of dusk. Finally, they fell silent and walked by the flame of a single torch. They were tired and their legs ached, but they would walk through the night if that’s what it took to get to the edge of the forest. To be far enough from the castle to be safe.

As it turned out that was what it took. The prince was sure that he dozed as he walked for a while, suddenly jolted out of his reverie by either Dreamy or Grouchy handing him some water and a piece of hard bread to chew on. The hours were endless and the uneven ground beneath his boots meant he stumbled painfully as much as he walked. The hardy pony should have been dead hours ago but it maintained the same steady pace, forcing them all to keep up. The night was relentless. The prince began to wonder if they were all cursed on a journey that would never end. He tried to focus on thoughts of home or Snow White’s perfect beauty but his mind kept being dragged down into other, darker memories which played out like nightmares. Running through a different forest in fear for his life. A couple of times he cried out, and Grouchy took his arm, gruffly waking him, but it was hard to tell where the boundary between fantasy and reality lay.

At last the pitch darkness that gripped them fractured with shards of grey and then yellow and orange as dawn broke. The prince could have cried with relief. Exhaustion had taken them all prisoner and was torturing their every step, but the trees were definitely thinning and the track widening into a proper road. They were near the edge of the forest. They would have rest soon. He was about to burst into a laugh of relief when the pony suddenly started and reared up, whinnying in terror and sending the cart tilting up and the contents spilling out onto the road.

The prince felt as if he was moving through sludge as he grabbed for the cart, missing completely and falling sideways to find himself attacked by tumbling vegetables. The dwarves tugged at the pony’s reins trying to calm her and then finally, there was a quiet stillness.

‘What the fuck happened?’ Grouchy said.

‘It’s just a mouse.’ Dreamy was crouched in the road. ‘Look.’ The prince hauled himself to his aching feet and limped over. A small field mouse, a scar cutting down its back, was merrily cleaning itself in the middle of their path. It paused and looked up curiously at them, completely unafraid. Dreamy laughed a little. ‘It’s just a mouse.’

‘Look at the mess. I’m sure that wheel isn’t sitting right. This is going to—’

‘What’s that sound?’ The prince frowned.

‘What sound? Dreamy looked round, suddenly peering through the gaps in the trees, no doubt for the arrival of soldiers.

‘Listen.’ The prince turned back towards the broken cart. It had come from that direction. He heard it again. A cough. ‘That.’

The little mouse scurried between their legs and over to the glass coffin which lay, half spilled, still covered with the dirty blanket, on the road. They all turned and watched as he sniffed around a little and then nibbled on a fallen potato. The cough came again. Light and feminine.

‘The coffin,’ the prince whispered. ‘It’s coming from the coffin.’

The prince reached it first, the dwarves right behind him and between the three of them they carefully laid it out on the road and pulled the blanket away. From inside, Snow White looked blearily up at them, the small piece of apple that had been trapped in her throat now lying on her chest.

‘The crash dislodged it!’ Dreamy cried. ‘She hadn’t swallowed it! It was stuck half way!’

‘Get her out of there,’ Grouchy grumbled. ‘The clasps on the side. Undo them.’

The prince was already working at them. Was this a dream? Were they still walking through the night and this was just an illusion that would shatter at any moment? Could she really be awake? He’d wished for this moment since he’d first laid eyes on her, and now here it was, out of the blue.

The glass lid came away, and he leaned forward.

‘Who are you?’ Her voice was husky and cracked a little.

‘Shh,’ he said, and before he could stop himself, he leaned down and kissed her. Her lips were every bit as soft and sweet as he’d imagined them to be. He lingered for a few seconds enjoying the feel of her body heat rising from the confines of the glass, and then he pulled back. She looked up at him, breathless.

‘I’m the man you’re going to marry.’

She sat up suddenly and looked down at her dress and then at the apple in her hand. ‘Um… what’s going on?’

‘It’s a long story,’ Dreamy said. ‘Let’s get a fire going and we’ll tell you. First,’ he leaned in towards the apple, ‘we should throw that away.’

Out of nowhere, the little brown mouse scurried up Dreamy’s arm and onto the edge of the glass side, standing on his rear legs, with his whiskers twitching. He leaned towards the fruit.

‘No, no,’ Snow White said. ‘We need to put it somewhere safe. Otherwise the animals will eat it.’ She looked at the prince. ‘Have you got a pouch or something?’

‘Of course.’ He took the apple and the small bite she’d coughed up and put them in his money bag. She was beautiful and also kind. The dwarves had been right. This was magical. It was love. It had to be.

They made camp in a small clearing at the side of the road and in the glow of the fire, the two dwarves and the prince told her all that had happened since the crone gave her the apple. The prince let Dreamy tell her of his vigil and how he’d sat beside her as she lay there somewhere between life and death, through all the days and nights. When they were done, she turned and looked up at him. ‘You were going to keep me safe?’ she asked.

‘I’m still going to keep you safe,’ he said, wrapping one arm around her and pulling her close. On the other side of the fire, the two dwarves beamed with happiness. ‘Marry me and come back to my kingdom. You will be the brightest jewel in the crown of my palace of light. You will never want for anything, I promise you.’

She looked into the fire and his heart raced with his love for her. ‘Please be my wife,’ he said. ‘I’ve been searching for you all my life. This is true love. I knew it when I first laid eyes on you.’ He could feel heat rising on his face; embarrassment and excitement. She had to say yes. She had to. Surely she must feel something for him too.

‘A lost prince and a cursed princess,’ Dreamy said. ‘It’s so romantic. Like something from one of the story books you gave me.’

‘The queen tried to kill me,’ she said softly.

‘And she’ll try again if she gets the chance,’ Grouchy said. ‘She’s wicked, that one.’

The seconds passed like hours as she continued gazing into the crackling flames, the light from which licked at her face as if it too wanted to touch her beauty. What was she thinking? Her expression was as unreadable as it had been while she was frozen. He was rushing her, he knew, but what else could he do? If he took her back unmarried his father would probably try and put a stop to it. He wanted to arrange his son’s marriage himself. He’d
seen
some of the women his father would choose and they weren’t for him. But to return already married, to a royal princess, was something he wouldn’t be able to put aside. And once he’d calmed down, he’d realise that the warring could end and a new alliance could be made. Snow White’s kingdom had mines and metal. His father would want both.

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