The Blood of the Queen

by Becky Burkheart

Snow White breathed a sigh of relief. Their plan would work. She let herself drift to sleep. The dwarves would be home shortly and would wake her with the antidote.

  ~~~

  Murmurings.

  Quiet voices nudged at Snow White's consciousness and tried to tug her to waking. She hurt, everywhere. Every part of her -- individually and specifically -- either ached or screamed. Her heart pounded -- slow, impossibly hard -- threatening to burst her skin. Relentless spikes pierced her temples; fire burned her lungs with every shallow breath.

  She declined to wake, letting herself slip away from the pain to soft warmth and darkness. The voices intensified, dragging her up and out of the comfort to agony. Then a touch, like the honed edge of a blade drawing along the length of her lower lip, dulled the pain. The voices, one strong voice, called her name as the touch ran back along the length of her lip. The honed edge, replaced now with dull claws, touched the bow of her upper lip, easing first to the left, then to the right. Not claws but Doc's rough callused fingertip brushed again across her lips.

  Keeping her eyes closed for a moment longer, letting her breath settle to a gentle rhythm and feeling her heart beat normally, Snow White flexed her fingers and then her toes. The antidote, she remembered now that she was supposed to lick her lips.

  "You in there?" Grumpy tried to hide his concern with his gruffness.

  Snow White nodded, surprised that it didn't hurt. She eased her eyes open to seven worried faces peering down at her, behind them the familiar rough wooden beams of the ceiling of the cabin. She let Sleepy help her up as Doc pressed his finger to her pulse then examined her eyes.

  "I'm fine." She gently pushed his hand away and glanced out the front windows. The evening sun slanted in. "How long has it been? What are the people saying?"

  The quick round of looking-aways landed on Sneaky. "How long," Snow White repeated. "You were out for two months." His expressionless face told her more than all the wide-eyed fear or weeping in the world would have done.

  Two months. She kept herself from repeating it out loud. She should have only been out a few hours. "What is being said about the Queen?" She repeated that instead.

  "Apparently," Happy answered, "it seems that your stepmother is a witch." Relief flooded Snow White. "Magic items, poisons, and herbs have been found in her rooms." His words tumbled out, all but out of control in his exuberance. "And it seems that after a failed assassination, she attempted to take your life with her own hand."

  Snow White's mind all but stuttered. Even the Queen's panic had worked in their favor, thank the blood that she'd left Snow White for dead rather than have the guards carry her back for treatment. She'd been planning and plotting and working around setbacks for so long, she felt suddenly weightless for so many things to go so right. Except for the powder she'd taken.

  "Doc…?" She realized she wasn't sure what to ask. She'd never known one of his potions to go wrong. "What happened for me to sleep so long?"

  "He doesn't know," Sneaky answered.

  Doc looked down, shuffling his feet with his hands behind his back the way he always did when he didn't want to talk about something. "The antidote didn't wake you." He cleared his throat and rubbed it before he continued. "Somehow it didn't match the poison exactly. But you're up now and that's all that matters."

  It wasn't all that mattered, but – Sneaky coughed so she just nodded. They would talk about it later.

  ~~~

  Snow White stood in the dark next to the guardhouse and tugged her hood closer. Bossy hesitated then waved two fingers in a quick good-bye before he followed Sneaky and Doc back into the deep shadows. They'd be lurking and waiting, but unable to help her for the most part. This step was up to her alone.

  She'd spoken to the mirror through the sacred pond. It hadn't betrayed them, but was bound to the truth and to the holder. The touch of one who wasn't of the blood scalded it and left it scarred and so it was loath to reach out to the Queen but it was equally anxious to be in Snow White's hands. It had agreed it could twist its answers to some degree and would help them if it could. She fingered the wax ball of poison plugged into its tiny gut pouch in her pocket. Once she sneaked it into her mouth all she'd have to do is squish it to take the potion. She'd practiced talking with it tucked in behind her gums until she gained confidence she wouldn't dose herself too early. Doc assured her the mix and the dosage was right, as well as the antidote. Sneaky frowned, but nodded that they had no choice but to trust him.

  Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door, soft, timid. They'd been unable to locate the Huntsman. If he were within, all would be lost. She knocked again and it creaked open. The guardsman's eye widened. "My lady!" He stepped to her side and offered his arm. "You're alive…"

  She shushed him, too slow to keep the others from crowding the door. "I need to see my stepmother, the Queen." she said. "Can you get me in through the kitchen?" The guards exchanged worried glances. "I know you escort young ladies in for my father. I'll keep my cloak drawn." She planted the seed. "I don't want anyone to know I'm here." And set the hook. The guards nodded their pledge of silence, ensuring their wives would be told with the next shared pillow and that her visit would be the main topic at the market within the day.

  "It's not safe," he said, but she shushed him again. "That evil witch has failed in her attempts on you." Emotion threatened to overcome his words. "Why would you go to her, my princess? Let me escort you away from here."

  Snow White placed a comforting hand on his arm. "I must give her a chance to prove herself. She only fears for her son's place against mine on the throne." The guard hitched in his breath. Had she said too much too clearly?

  "These lands have flourished in the hands of your motherline for all the ages of man." His voice thickened. "No one doubts your place is to rule." She shushed him again and he let her.

  "I must face her," she said. "I mean to let her know that all will end well." This cut too close to a lie. "We must be able to live again in harmony." Truth mixed in with truth.

  He placed his hand over hers on his arm. "If any harm should come to you..."

  He drifted off on his own this time, but finally motioned her toward the castle. He led her through the shadows back of the guardhouse to the rear entrance of the kitchen. As expected, with her hood pulled low, any they passed averted their eyes.

  Up the staircases and down the long dark hallways, past her father's rooms to her stepmother's. She stopped the guard from knocking and motioned him away.

  He hesitated, but then nodded and left with her insistence.

  She knocked gently on the door, slipped the capsule between her lips, then knocked again and cracked it open at her stepmother's "come".

  "My Queen." Snow White brushed back her hood as she dropped a deep curtsey. The attendants gasped and skittered back. The Queen's face showed only her practiced smile, but fear and confusion shone from her eyes.

  "You're safe," the queen stuttered. "You've come home." She waved her hands at her attendants. "Fetch her gown and combs. We must dress before we announce your return to the King." She turned away from Snow White and pretended to search through the jewels on her night stand, examining and discarding one after the other until the attendants returned. The Queen pinched her lips and scowled.

  "These are not the ones. Find the special bodice and the jeweled combs I had made for her return. The maids exchanged worried glances, but did as they were told and returned shortly with the items.

  Snow White discreetly touched the capsule, tucked in between cheek and gum, with her tongue.

  The Queen directed the maids to undress Snow White and bathe and redress her using the new specially made ensemble. They flustered around, one tuggingher corset up, the other tugging it down, as yet a third worked the laces, pulling them ever tighter. The Queen herself stepped forward to arrange Snow White's hair once it'd been brushed smooth. She twisted in a jeweled comb and, as she snugged it into place, Snow White cried out and pulled back. "You pricked
me with the comb."

  "No," her stepmother said. "It was an accident. Come, let me finish."

  Snow White pretended to protest as she slipped the capsule into place, then bowed her head to allow her stepmother to replace the comb. As the teeth slipped into place, she bit into the small gut tube, smooshing the wax ball inside and squirting the potion into her mouth; then she quickly swallowed. The familiar dark shadows edged her vision, her pulse raced, and her cheeks heated to burning. She swayed. The lady's maids screamed and scrambled back as Snow White collapsed to the floor. As the blackness encroached to consume her, the sounds of the Queen's pleas and protestations faded from hearing.

  ~~~

  The comforting warmth of the darkness was, at times, interrupted with dreams of being surrounded. And with dreams of sleeping and of being carried in her dreams, in her bed. She thought of waking at times. Knowing there were things she must do, her heart called out to those who could help her, but the light pierced her and brought pain without respite and so she drifted back to the safety of the void when they did not come. The fragment of her consciousness that dreamed knew she'd been imprisoned and chained, that succor must come from without. The bright agony surrounded her as if she perched on a mountaintop. Any hint or peeking thought of waking brought waves of pain as if focused on her being through a crystal, and so each time she would retreat. Time weighed on her and as it passed, she fought to wake, bearing the pain; her heart calling out through her dreams.

  A finger traced her lips. Voices echoed in the light, drifting closer.

  "She's beautiful."

  "She's your sister, sire."

  A laugh. "Half-sister, if you believe those old tales?" The voice's tone called his companion a fool if he did.

  "But sire, she's here, in the crystal casket on the mountain. You followed those tales here. How can you not believe?"

  "But who? My half-sister who was reportedly killed three times, or her mother, or some witch from ages past?"

  Snow White cracked her eyes open enough to see the profile of a handsome man, aged beyond his few years by decadence.

  He shrugged. "The people believe in the sweetness of her beauty; even my own mother has emptied the dredges of her life and turned to the very magic she despised."

  "Yet, it refuses her. She's not strong enough to wield it." Her mind knew the second voice and searched to place it. Snow White let herself drift back to the edges of the darkness. The light still tired her, although the pain was absent.

  "My mother's too kind." Was that her infant brother grown to manhood? She'd slept far too long. "In spite of her kindness, the people blame her for the troubles in this land."

  The silence stretched. "The magic consumes her," he finally continued, "yet in spite of having given her very being to the land and the people, it's not enough. They still despise her. Rightly so, given her weakness of spirit."

  A gruff throat cleared. The second voice, one of her own she remembered now.

  "Your mother's sin is only that she's both kind and ambitious. It's a poor combination. The old queen had ties to the land; her life and her blood kept it safe and fertile. Only one of the blood can restore prosperity."

  A shadow fell over Snow White, blocking her face from the sun. Sweet tipped fingers again touched her lips and she woke, remembering. The comfort of the dark that had held her fell away to the bright light of day. Her land, her people, she remembered; she opened her eyes to the face of the prince. Handsome, as her father had been in his youth. Impeccably groomed, as his single-minded and ambitious mother had always been. The hard eyes staring back at her were reminiscent of the Queen, but he didn't have her vacancy. There was more to him.

  Snow White sensed a thread of the darkness in the prince, and a dangerous strength. The glint in his eyes, as he looked into hers, and the smirk that curled his perfect lips, said to her that he loved the power for its own sake.

  Her resolve grew and strengthened. The land would suffer no more, no matter the cost.

  The prince took her hand and helped her from the crystal casket. Ingenious. She'd been right in her suspicions of a traitor, and too slow. But they hadn't beaten her yet. The prince lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her palm. His eyes hardened and he kept her close to him.

  "You'll be my queen."

  She stayed silent, holding his gaze with hers.

  "You have the potions and powers we'll need to clear the way. I have legitimacy and you'll confirm that. I'll have my kingdom and you'll have your land. The people will have their prosperity and will sing tales of us through the ages." Perhaps not so simple after all.

  The gruff throat cleared from beside the Prince. Sneaky. She remembered everything now. Loyal, devoted, dedicated and tenacious -- Sneaky. A cough, that oh so familiar quiet cough. She smiled and curtseyed, as well as she could with her hand held by the prince. "Of course, my lord." She lowered her gaze to Sneaky with a genuine smile. "It's past time for one of the blood to be restored to the throne and to heal the land and the people."

  Sneaky bowed and stepped forward. "The old king is on his deathbed, coughing up his life. A potion could ease his pain, at your command."

  The prince released her hand and turned toward Sneaky, but she shushed him.

  "See it done," she said, "but we have other business first." She looked pointedly at Doc, standing amongst the others near the Prince's retinue. His eyes widened, filled with fear.

  "Seize him."

  Doc stiffened his back and raised his chin, yet she saw the subtle shifting that meant he prepared to fight. She was sure then who he was, who he followed, and that he meant to offer blood to the land to strengthen the other.

  "Beware," she called out. "Spill no blood." The guards milled, confused, their weapons half-drawn. The dwarves closed a half moon behind their kin as Snow White approached. Doc met her gaze squarely, bravely. Fear shadowed in him, but he held it at bay. "I know of your deeds," Snow White said. "Through your work for your true liege you tested me well, setting obstacles that one not of the blood would fail to overcome. You have strengthened and proved me, yet now your task is ended and you know the cost of your betrayal as well as the worth of your blood."

  He nodded. "I'll wait unbound."

  Snow White motioned to Bossy and Stinky as she turned to the Prince. "Take these two. They will attend the King at his deathbed. Prepare for our wedding at the full of the moon. I will arrive at the ceremony at dusk."

  He grimaced, his eyes narrowed, his chin tilted up and his back stiffened as he started to speak. "I've already accepted your terms," Snow White interrupted even before his first word. "You demanded the use of my power. Do you intend to interfere in my doing your bidding?" He snapped his mouth shut and shook his head.

  "Say nothing of finding your half-sister, only that your intended is a princess."

  She turned to the dwarves. "The timing must be right." Bossy spoke before she did. Relief flooded her, filling her spirit. Laughter bubbled up and spilled out as she fell to her knees to embrace them. The weight of the years she'd slept tired her spirit but the steadfastness of these who were loyal to her refreshed and strengthened her.

  She watched them away as the Prince, his guard, and her two dwarves left the mountain. True to his word, Doc stood strong -- silent and unbound -- as the sun sank below the horizon. Still they waited in the dark.

  In the moments between the first rays of moonlight over the horizon and the moon herself darkening the stars, Sneaky slipped into her hands the small ebony blade of her mother, hidden and kept safe all these years. She had thought it could not come to this, yet it had and she must do what was demanded. Whispering a promise of service and a plea for strength, Snow White stepped forward and sliced open Doc's throat. He slumped to his knees with only a gurgle and then collapsed to the ground. Snow White held up the bloodied dagger to the stars as the moon rose above them, her heart and her arms aching as Doc's blood sank into the thirsty earth.

  The throne would be her
s; the lands would green and the people would know prosperity once more.

  ~~~

  Snow White stood at ready, behind the crowd gathered for her wedding, in the shadows at the back of the great hall. Her father, the King, would have already slipped quietly from a deep sleep into the beyond. His attendants would find him cold when they returned from the ceremonies. The time of his death would establish her rule, regardless of her marriage to her half-brother and repudiate any claims his kin might have to the throne.

  The pure white silk of her gown gleamed in the dark, seeming to glow from within rather than reflecting the light of the world. Her attendants had woven silver threads through her dark tresses, working in a pattern of brilliant rubies in reflection of the stars and in honor of the blood of the ages. At the last moment, as the others turned away, she'd concealed the ebony dagger in the wide belt that wrapped her waist.

  The murmuring of the ritual ceased and the music rose, signaling her to walk up the aisle. The elders protested her lack of escort but she'd shushed them, to their dismay. She knew what they didn't; that sentence had been passed and judgment would be carried out; that this was to be a coronation rather than a wedding. They would learn soon enough that she was not a simple princess but born through the ages to be a queen; that she belonged to no man, but to the blood, the stars, the land, and the people.

  As she walked alone up the aisle, head bowed; she sent up a silent plea to the blood that her mother's sacrifice be honored. For the first time, the pleading tasted rank and sour, and in her heart she demanded that the promise that cost her own mother's life be kept.

  Excited murmurs rose as she made her way up the aisle. A gasp as she passed the Queen at the steps of the dais at the fore of the great hall. She looked up, meeting the prince's gaze, but listening behind her, prepared. As she reached her half-brother's side, her stepmother screamed and leapt toward them.

  It had all come to this: the slow dance of the stars and the quick circling of the moon within; the rhythmic beating of the hearts of mortals and the slow breath of the earth. All the blood of the ages surged in Snow White. All the prices that had been paid to see one of the blood back on the throne rested in the next instant.