Snow White and the Huntsman (5 page)

S
now White pressed her face between the bars. It had been an hour since they’d taken Rose away. Snow White had watched as Finn came upstairs with a soldier and pulled Rose from her cell. She had screamed and kicked, but the soldier had held her legs. They’d carried her downstairs like that, ignoring Snow White as she’d also pleaded for them to stop.

She hoped the young girl was okay. She wanted to believe that it was all a misunderstanding and the girl would go free eventually, that she would not be hurt. But worry consumed her. She knew Ravenna too well. And whatever Rose had done (had she done something?), Snow White could not shake the feeling that today’s conversation had been their last.

She wrung her hands together as she paced the length of the small cell. It was hard to wrap her mind around it all. Duke Hammond was alive. William fought in her father’s
name. The thought of them brought hope. The cell seemed so much smaller now. She couldn’t stand the way it smelled of mildew, or how there were always cockroaches scurrying at night. She couldn’t take not being in the sun. What had grown dormant after so many years stirred in her again. She needed to be out, away from this dank prison, on the road to find Duke Hammond. She needed her family again.

Almost as soon as the thought crossed her mind, there was a whistling sound. She turned, noticing two magpies perched on the castle ledge. She remembered the distinctive birds from her childhood. Their sleek black feathers made them stand out in the light gray sky. Their tails were more than half the length of their bodies, and their wing feathers were a stunning iridescent blue. They stood there, their heads tilted in her direction, as if she had called them to her by some strange magic.

She went to the window and watched them. They flapped their wings once, the blue feathers catching the light. “Are you trying to tell me something?” she muttered, wondering if she was imagining it. “What are you doing here?” The birds hopped along the ledge to where the tower roof slanted toward the earth. The wood shingles were rotted in places. The black tar was sticky from the sun. It took her a moment to notice the roofing nail sitting directly between the two birds. It stuck out at an angle, just within reach.

Snow White threaded her arm through the metal bars and grabbed the nail. It was three inches long, and the bottom
half was still lodged in the wood. She moved it forward, then back, repeating the motion until it felt loose. The birds sat on the roof beside it, watching as she worked at the rusty piece of metal. She’d nearly pulled it out when she heard footsteps down the stone corridor. She heard Rose’s muffled cries, then her cell door opening.
She was still alive.
The realization urged her on.

The magpies sensed the danger and flew away, settling in a nearby tree. “Come on,” Snow White muttered to herself. She yanked hard on the nail once, then again. Finn slammed the other cell door shut. She heard his footsteps coming closer, approaching her own cell. She yanked one final time, and it came out, sending her falling backward. She scrambled onto her bed and pulled the blanket around her. The rusty nail was still clasped in her hand.

Snow White pretended to sleep. She could hear him just outside the cell. His shoes clacked against the stone floor as he paced back and forth in front of the door. She finally opened her eyes, as if she’d just woken up. “Did I wake you?” he asked. With that, he turned the key in the lock and entered the cell.

Snow White shook her head. She tightened her grip around the nail, wondering what it was he wanted today. “You’ve never come in before,” she said softly. She threaded the nail between her two fingers, letting the rusty tip stick out between them.

Finn tilted his head, studying her. He looked charmed. She offered him a small smile, trying to lure him closer with
her eyes. “My Queen won’t allow it,” he said. “She wants you all to herself.”

“I’m afraid of her,” Snow White tried. She studied his face. It was exactly the same as it had been the day they met—the night of her father’s wedding. His fair skin hadn’t aged at all. His nose was pointed at the end, and his blond hair was perfectly cut, combed down in front to cover his large forehead.

He came toward her and rested on the edge of her bed. She counted each one of her breaths, trying to stay calm. She straightened and pulled her legs up toward her, sitting beside him. Her fist was still closed at her side.

“It’s all right, Princess,” Finn cooed. He reached out and touched her arm. “You will never again be locked in a cell.” He was wearing the same black leather suit he always did, the collar coming up to hide his neck. He was so close now, she could see her faint reflection in the polished surface.

Snow White squeezed the rusty nail. “What does she want from me?” she asked, looking up at him. Finn brushed her hair away from her face. His thick fingers stopped on her cheekbone. It took all she had not to cringe visibly at his touch.

Then he reached down for something at his waist. He pulled it from its sheath so quickly, it took her a second to realize what it was. “Your beating heart,” he said, tightening his grip on his dagger.

Snow White looked at the glinting blade, then into his unfeeling eyes. She raised her fist. Without any hesitation,
she struck him across the face. She held the nail firm, wanting to do as much damage as possible.

A gash opened in his cheek, from the bottom of his left eye to his nose. The blood dripped down his face, spilling over his fingers and onto the wool blanket. “What did you do?” he managed. He tried to get to his feet, but Snow White kicked him hard in the side. She grabbed the keys from his belt and ran for the door, her heart pounding in her chest.

She slammed the metal door behind her to lock it. Then she darted to Rose’s cell. Snow White fumbled with the keys, trying the first one on the ring. It didn’t work. She tried the next, then the next, but they didn’t work, either. She ran her fingers over the remaining keys, her throat going dry. There were nearly forty in all.

“Guards!” Finn yelled down the corridor. “Guards!” His bloody face was visible beyond the bars.

Snow White peered into Rose’s cell, horrified by what she saw. Huddled in the back was an old woman, her face shriveled with age. Wiry gray hair fell down her back. She wore the same dress Rose had been wearing earlier and had the same wide-set blue eyes, but she was barely recognizable.

“Go,” the old woman urged. She stepped forward and grabbed Snow White’s hand. “Just go—please. You’ll never make it otherwise.”

Snow White gave the woman’s hands a final squeeze and released the keys into them. Then she turned to the narrow stairs, which spiraled down to the main castle. She
circled down them, taking two at a time, growing more and more dizzy with each flight. She heard Finn yelling somewhere above her even as she descended the last few steps and nearly collapsed on the floor.

The castle’s third floor was quiet. She recognized it immediately from her childhood. It was the same wing that Duke Hammond and William had lived in. Each window was covered with deep burgundy drapes, and an ornate wooden wardrobe rested against the far wall. She knew each of these rooms as if they were her own. She started toward the other end of the wing, but just then, two guards ran up the stairs. Their weapons were drawn. She could see it in their eyes—they already knew she had escaped.

“Get her!” one yelled as they ran in her direction.

She escaped back into the stairwell, bolting the door behind her. She didn’t bother to look back. They rammed into it, the wood creaking with each violent blow. She had to get to the courtyard. She could raise the portcullis and escape, just as Duke Hammond and William had all those years before. “I just have to make it there,” she told herself.

When she reached the bottom of the staircase she burst through the door and into the open air. The light was so bright, it burned her eyes. She shielded her face from the sun. It had been so long since she’d been outside, it was almost too much to take in. Even the wind felt strange against her skin.

Before she could process it, she heard the sound of footsteps behind her. The guards were coming out of the throne
room and into the courtyard. There were ten of them, at least. They all wore the same black armor. She looked at the east wing of the castle, where the portcullis was, but two men on horseback were already galloping toward her from their normal posts at the gate. There was nowhere to go.

She froze in place, uncertain about what to do next. As she clutched her hand to her heart, she heard a small whistling sound. The two magpies she’d seen outside her window were there in the courtyard, circling just a few feet above her. She rubbed her eyes, not sure if she was imagining them. They looked so vivid. The sunlight streamed down and caught their blue wings, making them shimmer.

They swooped in front of her, darting toward the west end of the courtyard. The flower bushes there were shriveled and brown. “Just like the nail,” she whispered to herself. She followed, knowing that there was something they wanted to show her.

Behind her, the guards were closing in. The two on horseback were nearly upon her. She heard the loud clack of the hooves on the stone.

“Get her! She’s trapped!” someone yelled to the pack from the throne room.

She just kept following the two birds. They were approaching the massive stone wall. She looked down, finally realizing what it was they were showing her. There, beneath the wilted shrubs, was the entrance to the castle sewers. It was a hole about two feet across—just wide enough for her to slip through.

As the magpies flew away, she dropped down, sliding across the stone floor on her hip. Then she lowered herself into the sewer system. She hung there for a moment, her fingers gripping the rim of the drain, before letting go. She could barely breathe as she plummeted into the darkness below.

She was instantly swept away by the current of the water. High above her, one guard lowered himself in, trying to follow, but the drain was too small. His hips got stuck. His legs hung in the air above her, kicking frantically.

“Open the gates! The princess has escaped!” one guard yelled above, his voice echoing down the tunnel as she floated away.

Snow White reached out for the wall as she slipped past, but it was coated with slimy algae. The stone was so slippery, she couldn’t get a grip. Instead, the thick sludge lodged beneath her fingernails, turning them green.

After so many years locked in the tower, her legs weren’t strong enough to keep her afloat. She kicked as hard as she could, struggling against the current, and thrashed her arms. But as the sewage tunnel narrowed, the water pulled her under.

She disappeared beneath the foaming sludge, and the entire world went dark.