Snow White and Rose Red- The Curse of the Huntsman Page 4

  “I suppose it was nice. He paid me three silvers. I told Mother this morning, but you were gone by the time I woke. We needn’t worry so very much about money for awhile.”

  My mouth dropped open. “Snow. That’s amazing,” I whispered.

  “There is more.”

  “What more could there possibly be?”

  “He wants my hand in marriage,” Snow said. “He’s going to ask at the end of the week.”

  I gasped. Latham Rosewood… We would be rich. But Snow was looking like someone had just slapped her. “You would be miserable,” I guessed.

  “It wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen,” Snow said. “There are worse men with worse fortunes.”

  “You don’t need to do it for us,” I said softly, but the stubborn set of Snow’s mouth told me she didn’t believe me.

  There was nothing to say after that.

  The people of the village were all gathering after the day’s work. They talked cheerfully of the rare dishes at the feast and the barrels of wine that the Rosewoods had set out for the night.

  All except for one woman, who was shouting. We all turned to where Alice’s mother, Ella Baker, had Lavender by the wrist.

  What we gathered from the altercation was that Alice had not come back up the hill at three in the afternoon when she had been told to return and help with the baking. At first, her parents had been angry, though anger soon gave way to fear as the sun began to set. Alice’s mother, flour still covering her hands and apron from baking all of the bread for the feast, had hauled Lavender and Hazel out of their houses and was questioning them about where her daughter was. They both answered all that they could, but neither was able to produce the missing girl.

  They had last seen her gathering roses.

  “Rose was there too,” Hazel said, looking for me in the crowd and pointing straight at me when she spotted my face.

  “When I left you three were together gathering roses,” I said, praying they wouldn’t speak more of our encounter.

  “Well, after you left we went back to the village. Alice had wanted to go down for another basket. So she went alone, and neither of us have seen her since.”

  A search party was formed. As when we had sought out the strangers, the men went down the hill to search as the night darkened around us.

  All the while, the image of the beast I had seen was ever in my mind. Had she stumbled across the beast as I had? Did she try to run, as I did, or was she trapped by fear? I knew the exact place where Alice had last been seen; I knew the best way to get there.

  I knew that I had to search for her.

  Though Alice and I were by no means friends, she was the least cruel of Hazel’s pack, and not even she deserved to be eaten alive by a monster.

  This time I did not tell my mother or my sister about my plans. Instead, simply as they were standing together with heads bent in whispers, I quietly stepped backwards into the shadows, joining the rush of people moving frantically about.

  I put my hood over my head as I descended the mountain. Fear rippled through me, but I pushed it aside.

  When I reached the briars, I knew I was right to come. The men were trampling about, but they didn’t know any of the paths.

  I went forward on my own, taking the twists and turns of the rabbit paths. Part of me wondered if I should tell the men to come with me and show them the way, but I doubted they would listen much less fit through the brambles.

  I came out onto the clearing where Lavender and Hazel had both confessed to last seeing Alice. I saw the steps in the dirt that gave truth to what they’d said—three sets of tracks, two that turned back to take the long way around and up the hill, another that went deeper.

  I followed Alice’s steps.

  A few feet past where she’d left Hazel and Lavender, I found her basket, crumpled and crushed, at the foot of the stream that wound through the briars.

  A few steps beyond that, her cloak. I took it in my hands and explored the jagged edges where it had been torn. My hand came away bloody.

  This was Alice’s blood, I had no doubt. She had struggled, and she had been hurt, of that I was certain.

  I had the feeling of being watched. Looking up, I saw two eyes fixed on me from the briars. The figure took a few steps forward and I realized it was the Huntsman. He held a knife in one hand, raised and ready. His dark hair was a wild tangle about his head and his grey eyes stared deep into me. He could not have been more than a half dozen years older than me, but the look in his eyes was weary.

  “You startled me,” I said, trying to smile and make the words friendly. I couldn’t quite manage it, not when he was holding that blade in my direction. It did not help that he towered over me.

  He took another step towards me, and I instinctively took a step backwards. I don’t know that I had reason to fear, but some part of me was screaming to run.

  Then suddenly, a low, menacing grumble filled the air. I looked over my shoulder and saw the beast.

  Glowing red eyes, fangs, the size of a bear but with the quickness of a wolf, the beast was as horrifying as I remembered.

  “Rose!”

  A different kind of terror shot through me when I heard Snow say my name. She was across the clearing, staring at me with wide eyes.

  The beast’s head snapped towards her.

  Then the Huntsman lunged at the beast. He slashed at it with his knife, but the beast leapt back. They circled each other for a moment, and then the beast jumped at the Huntsman, swiping with his massive claws. The blow caught the Huntsman across the chest, knocking him back and bloodying him.

  The beast moved to close in for the kill, but suddenly a torrent of jagged ice shards surged up from the river and crashed down on the wolf, knocking him aside. The beast gave an angry bark and staggered back up.

  Meanwhile, the Huntsman rolled to his feet, shaking his head to clear it. Then he crouched and swung low at the beast’s paws. The beast, faster than I would have even thought possible, dodged the strike and darted in to snap at the Huntsman. Fangs flashed, and suddenly the Huntsman’s arm was torn open from his hand to his elbow.

  The beast let out a mournful howl, and I saw that the Huntsman had not been idle—his blade was sunk into the beast’s side.

  The beast ran, the knife still embedded in his side.

  Blood ran from the Huntsman’s arm, and he staggered to his knees. I pulled back in horror, but my sister ran forward.

  She pulled her shawl from around her shoulders and pressed it to his wound. “Red, help me!”

  My sister only calls me by my middle name when she is giving me an order. Though fear still gripped me, I pushed myself forward and knelt beside her.

  “We have to slow the bleeding,” she cried, pulling my hand to where the cloth was getting soaked in blood. She pressed my hand down. “Pressure, there.”

  I pushed down, ignoring the squelch of blood as best I could.

  “It’s going to be okay,” Snow said, and I thought she was speaking to me, but when I looked up she was staring into the Huntsman’s eyes.

  He looked back at her, confusion on his face rather than pain.

  Then he spoke for the first time.

  “Why?” he asked, as though pulling the word out took great effort. Then he cleared his throat and spoke again. “Why are you helping me?”

  Snow held his eyes, though now she was the one to look confused. “Because you need help,” she said simply, and it was clear by her tone that it would never occur to her to question this—why anyone would hesitate to rush to this stranger’s side and see past his scars and the blood to what help she could offer.

  While I kept pressing on the wound, Snow tied the ends of her shawl around the Huntsman’s arm.

  “We need to get you back to the village,” Snow said.

  I wouldn’t have believed it possible for Snow and I to pull the Huntsman to his feet, but when my sister was determined, she could make anything happen. Then he staggered along between our a
rms as we held him steady.

  When we got to the hill, we could all tell that the journey up would take all night.

  “Go get help,” Snow panted, sweat glistening on her pale brow.

  I nodded and ran.

  I reached the village out of breath and screaming for help at the top of my lungs. Latham Rosewood and the men who had returned from the first round of searching for Alice ran down with us along with Coriander, followed by Shell and Imerine.

  We found Snow and the Huntsman at the base of a tree. Snow had eased him down so that he was sitting with his back against it. Her hands were pressed to the blood-soaked shawl around his arm, and she was singing softly to him.

  At first I thought no sight could be more absurd than my sister using the lullabies that she had rocked me to sleep with when I was younger on this fearsome man. But then I saw the look in his eyes. He watched her with childlike fascination, trust and care plainly written on his face. It almost made it easy to ignore his scars.

  We all stopped short when we saw the moment we were intruding on, but it was too late—Snow had already heard us.

  She looked up, startled, the note she was singing cut off like a snapped thread.

  We all seemed to remember ourselves. The men rushed forward to help; Coriander pulled some bandages from her basket. Snow stood, her skirts stained a coppery red from the Huntsman’s blood. I turned to Shell and Imerine to explain.

  But what I saw stopped me short. The look on Shell’s face was pure hatred.

  My words died unspoken on my lips as Shell strode forward and pushed herself between Snow and the Huntsman.

  “You have no business with my brother,” she said coldly to Snow.

  My sister recoiled as though she had been slapped. “I did not mean to overstep,” she said, immediately apologetic. She ducked her head and stepped back, though before she did, she glanced one last time at the Huntsman and gave him the slightest of smiles.

  She turned away before she could see him smile back.

  Chapter 7: The Huntsman - Snow White

  The festival was at an end when we returned. We found some food still sitting out and took what was left for a late supper at home.

  My mother was pacing furiously when we came to our cottage.

  She grabbed both of our arms and shook us, as she used to when we were children and had misbehaved. “What were you thinking, racing off into the woods without me?”

  I caught our mother up in my arms. “Mother, Mother, calm yourself. We’re both safe and sound.”

  “Rose has always been a free spirit, but Snow, I never expected you would run off.”

  “I had to find Rose. You understand, don’t you, Mother? I had to protect her from the beast.”

  “It’s my responsibility to protect you girls. Neither of you are ready. You don’t know any of the lore. You have no idea how to go about hunting monsters. You’re just children.”

  “We’re nearly grown!” I objected.

  Rose put her hands on her hips. “Besides, that beast is out there hunting for us. We can’t let it prey on the people in the village.”

  “Rose is right, Mother. We’re needed. Surely you can begin our training now.”

  My mother shook her head. “Right now, the two of you need to learn to control your magic. When you’re able to pass the trials, I’ll teach you all of the lore.”

  “Lore? Trials?” Rose looked between us. “How much more is there yet to learn about all this?”

  “There are whole tomes,” I said. “Mother hides them under her bed.”

  “You must prove you can control your magic before I teach you the lore of our people,” my mother explained. “Before we can travel to their land and live in safety. When you are young, your magic is dangerous and we can’t risk having so many young people together. The magical force would be catastrophic. The trials ensure that you’re ready.”

  “And Snow hasn’t passed these trials yet?” Rose asked, surprised. “I always thought Snow was perfect at everything.”

  I laughed. “Mother won’t even let me attempt them yet.”

  “It isn’t exactly for me to decide. And in any case, they are more difficult than you think. Listen to me, both of you,” my mother said, turning us both back to her. “There are secrets that run deeper than either of you can guess. Those secrets aren’t yours to know yet. This is our way, and it is so to protect us all.”

  “But we can’t just do nothing!” Rose protested.

  “I know. Something has come here that should never have made it this far. That is has may mean something is wrong,” Mother said grimly. “Tonight, I will ride for help.”

  We both stared at her, shocked. “You can’t go alone,” I said at once.

  “You must stay here with your sister. I hate to leave the two of you alone, but it’s the only way to get help. It will only be for a day. I’ll borrow a horse from the woodcutter to speed the journey. You must protect each other, and you must wait for my return,” Mother commanded. “And be safe. I will return by nightfall tomorrow.”

  We were still stammering protests as Mother gathered her things and walked to the door.

  “Take care of each other,” she said. Then she embraced us both. “I love you both with all my heart,” she said, looking first at Rose and then at me.

  “Be safe, Mother,” I said.

  Rose wrapped her arms around Mother and buried her face in her shoulder. “I love you.”

  And then Mother turned and began her journey.

  It was not often that Rose and I were left alone. That our Mother would leave meant something was truly wrong. We sat close together by the hearth, warming ourselves by the fire. After the Huntsman was safe in Coriander’s care, Rose and I had stopped in a stream to wash the blood off of our hands and skirts, then shivered the rest of the way home. Mother had not even noticed our wet things, which was very unlike her.

  We both stripped off our wet things and laid them by the hearth. We put on the shifts we slept in which, while not warm, were at least dry.

  It may have been because we were suddenly alone and the cottage seemed very empty, or it may have been because we had just been through a frightful night, but neither of us could imagine sleeping. We put down a blanket to sit on and huddled close to stay warm while we ate the venison and cooked apples we had scavenged from the end of the festival.

  We spoke in whispers and that, with the glowing shadows cast off by the hearth, made it a time for secrets.

  I clasped Rose’s hand in mine. “Rose, did the Huntsman seem very… Strange… To you?”

  “And I had begun to think you were incapable of falling for anyone,” Rose teased.

  “I didn’t say I’d fallen for anyone. He’s just unusual. He’s nothing like the boys here. He isn’t trying to… To own me or win me. And, besides, he did save our lives.”

  Rose popped a slice of roasted apple into her mouth and considered this. “He seemed very taken with you.”

  I hid my face in my hands. “You always think everyone is taken with me. In this case, I don’t think you could be more wrong.”

  She wrapped her arms around me. “No man can resist you.”

  I frowned. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. He’s not like the others.”

  Rose held out her hand toward the fire. “Well, he should at least be grateful.”

  “I did what anyone would do.”

  “Not bandaging his wounds. I mean the ice. How did you do it, Snow?”

  “What?”

  “When the beast attacked, you threw those ice shards at it. How? I could barely breathe, much less use any magic.”

  “It comes with practice,” I said. I held up my fingers and the water in the bucket beside the hearth quivered, then frozen tendrils rose up, curling towards my hand.

  Rose wiggled her fingers at the fire in the hearth. The flames leapt and popped as cheerfully as ever, but they made no move that I could see.

  “It’s easier when you want it
to happen very badly,” I said. “You have to think that this is the most important thing in the world, it has to be the thing you want most in this moment.”

  Rose’s brow furrowed with concentration, but nothing happened. With an exasperated sigh, she gave up.

  “It’s late,” I said. “We should sleep. Tomorrow, it will be easier when you’re rested.”

  Rose nodded, but I could tell she was upset. In any case, what I had said was true—as soon as Rose’s head was on her pillow, she was asleep.

  I, however, wasn’t tired in the slightest. I lay awake, my hand over my heart to feel it beating hard in my chest. My eyes closed, I ran through every memory of the night, savoring every moment.

  When the Huntsman’s eyes had first met mine, then turned to the beast as it leapt.

  The furious battle that was near too quick to follow.

  Then how he had staggered and fallen.

  But most of all, I knew I would always remember the look in his eyes as I ran forward to help him. He had not expected help, though he had needed it. Though he might have died in the dark forest that night, I don’t believe it would have even occurred to him to ask.

  After Rose had gone to get help, while my fingers were awash in the red of his blood, he’d looked up at me so wonderingly.

  “You shouldn’t trouble yourself for me,” he’d said gruffly.

  “You saved my life. It’s no trouble.”

  “I was not trying to save you,” he’d said.

  I’d frowned at that. “Well, then call it a kindness.”

  “I don’t believe in kindness,” he’d said, trying to push my hands away.

  I pressed down harder on the wound, making him wince and abandon his attempts to get rid of me. “You don’t like me,” I stated, not realizing until I spoke them that the words were true.

  “I know better than to be fooled by beauty.”

  “What do you mean?” I searched his eyes for some clue about what caused him to speak so. Besides, I’d told myself, talking will distract him from the pain of his injuries.

  His eyes were suspicious, but gave away nothing. “Great beauty can hide a hideous heart.”