Snow Whyte and the Queen of Mayhem

by Melissa Lemon

  She asked what Trevor Blevkey was up to. Of course, I told her that he knew about the princess and was trying to win her over so that he could be the king of Mayhem someday.

  “You lie!” she yelled at me, slamming both hands on the vanity and rattling my dwelling. Sometimes her rage frightened me and sometimes I found it downright comical. This time it was the latter. Perhaps it had something to do with the insane way her eyes bulged as she stared down at me.

  “I never lie,” I defended with a chuckle. I couldn’t help myself; she looked so ridiculous with that angry expression on her face, not to mention the red patches that swelled on her cheeks and the heart shape that formed on her skin between her eyes. What next? Steam coming from her ears?

  “He must not have it in him. I’ll have to do it myself. I have to do everything myself!”

  She wore a simple dress cut from dark gray wool in a way that flattered her impressive figure. She lifted her crown off her head, setting it on the vanity, and released her hair from its tight prison.

  “You look lovely,” I remarked as she headed toward the door.

  “Shut up,” she retorted, glancing over her shoulder in my direction.

  “Don’t you want to take me with you?” I asked. “I could help you along the way if something turns for the worse.”

  She slammed the heavy door in answer.

  I waited in anticipation for a storm to come again, but while the sky darkened and the wind blew, only a few timid flakes fell from the sky. Apparently, my spell could not penetrate the arrival of spring, not nearly enough anyway. My heart beat fast—so fast I feared it would give out—watching her ride toward the princess.

  “Oh no,” I said over and over and over. I tried again to free myself from the mirror, attempting every spell I could utter, but it was no use. It felt like I was being physically blocked every time I tried to form words into a spell.

  Giving up, I peeked in on Katiyana and her loathsome suitor once more.

  “And how are you today, Snow Whyte?” Iden asked as they strolled along the path that led to Mischief Market.

  Katiyana rolled her eyes. “I really wish you wouldn’t call me that.”

  “I’m sorry, Kat. I keep forgetting. How are you today?”

  “I’m well, thank you. And how are you?” I’m no expert, but I knew she wasn’t love-struck. She leaned away from him when they spoke, as if she was afraid or maybe just irritated. Then again, maybe he smelled like red wine, or sweat, or the onions in the soup he couldn’t get enough of at Mischief Market.

  “I’m much better now that I’ve had a chance to look at you today.”

  Katiyana rolled her eyes again. “I hate it when you say things like that.”

  “Why?” he asked, pausing along the path where only a few patches of snow remained.

  “Because I never know what to say in return.”

  Iden suddenly grabbed hold of Katiyana’s hand. “Then don’t say anything.”

  He glanced down and then lifted her hand, pressing his lips gently as he kissed the back of it. “I’ll keep you warm,” he said.

  Katiyana pulled her hand away and slipped it under her shawl. “I am warm.”

  After spending some time investigating the ground, Katiyana spoke again, looking Iden in the eye once more. “I’ve allowed you to continue to come because I thought it only right and fair to learn more of your character, whether it is good or bad. But after all the time we’ve spent together . . .”

  She peered toward the ground again, as if hoping to find a script.

  “What?” Iden questioned.

  Katiyana focused on his muddy eyes as she shared her true feelings. “Something about you still makes me uncomfortable. Like I’m standing on the edge of something and about to fall off.”

  Iden subtly leaned his head toward her.

  “Don’t worry,” he whispered. “I’ll catch you.”

  His lips puckered slightly. Katiyana watched him, looking annoyed at first; I’d never seen her roll her eyes so many times in such a short period. When Iden closed his eyes and leaned in for a kiss, Katiyana abruptly stormed ahead of him. I can’t say I blamed her for getting angry, since I knew what it was like when someone refuses to listen to you and keeps pestering you. I won’t name any names, but I’m sure you can guess who I’m speaking of.

  “What do you plan to get for Pokole?” Iden asked, meandering along behind her. I’m sure he knew by now that the princess always softened when he talked about her little men, especially Pokole.

  “I’m not sure yet. Something warm.” She turned to face her walking companion, a smidgen of softness back in her voice. “And will you help me find him some more lavender?”

  “Of course I will. It’s not usually in bloom this early, but with that warm spell we had a few weeks ago, it’s plentiful. ”

  Iden took a few smooth, long strides until their feet came in sync.

  “I’m falling in love with you,” he spoke, gazing at the side of her face. He could have used a few lessons in how to pull off a good lie.

  “And then what happens?” Katiyana stopped again, crossing her arms so the shawl formed a tight “V” across her neck. “You’ll leave? You’ll ask me to wait for you while you go away to take care of some things?”

  “No, of course not,” he assured, trying again to get closer without her realizing it. As he inched his feet and leaned toward her, his eyes settled on her mouth. Katiyana remained a statue as he closed in on her and kissed her dry, beet-colored lips. It didn’t last long. Perhaps her lack of enthusiasm hurt his pride, forcing him to retreat. Then again, he didn’t seem like the kind of boy to give up easily.

  “You’re so cold,” Iden said, pulling away.

  “I don’t feel cold,” Katiyana replied woodenly. I couldn’t say how she felt about the kiss; I’d never seen her so emotionless.

  “What do you feel?” Iden asked.

  “I feel confused.” She let out a breath of exasperation. “I don’t know what you mean when you say you love me. I don’t know if it’s sincere—I barely know you.”

  Prince Iden quickly reassured her. “Of course it’s sincere. How can you say something like that?”

  “I’m only answering your question.”

  “Okay, no more questions for now.” Such cleverness—smooth as the glass I looked through.

  “Can we just get to the market?” Katiyana begged.

  “Of course,” Iden said.

  Once at the market, Iden picked out a parasol for Katiyana, and she purchased a new wool blanket for Pokole—he’d complained so much of being cold the last several days.

  I sensed Katiyana wanted nothing that day but to be far away from Iden. She constantly left him behind as he browsed, refused his offer to purchase her a glass of red wine, and looked for every opportunity to converse with someone else. But while she found discomfort in his presence, I knew it was far better than being found by the queen of Mayhem.

  ^-]

  A dark cloud took over the sky as the princess of Mayhem and the prince of Mischief walked deep into Fluttering Forest. I had never seen either one of them so silent. They reached Katiyana’s current home, and before she could even say good-bye to her escort, Kurz came outside to greet her.

  “You need to go home, Trevor.” Kurz’s curt words halted the footsteps of the approaching prince and princess.

  My heart sunk within me; I could tell something was wrong. So could Katiyana. “What’s the matter, Kurz?”

  “It’s Pokole.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” Iden inquired.

  “I told you, Trevor Blevkey. You need to go home. Now.”

  Iden turned to leave but watched the scene over his shoulder until the thick of the forest surrounded him.

  “What’s wrong with Pokole? Is he worse? Oh, I never should have
left today. Has he been asking for me? I brought him a blanket.” She tried to make her way past the determined dwarf blocking her entrance.

  “He fell off the table while you were out.”

  “Let me in. Let me see him. He needs me right now.” She kept trying to skirt her way around him, but he constantly moved to block her. The blanket and parasol she’d been carrying dropped to the ground.

  “He died, Snow Whyte.” Kurz sniffed back the tears and looked gravely into Katiyana’s worried blue eyes. “His little broken body let go.”

  “No,” Katiyana whispered. She forced her way through the door, knocking Kurz on his back side.

  “I’m so sorry, Snow Whyte,” Duan sobbed. Katiyana walked deliberately toward the table, the shock and terror evident on her face growing with each of her slow steps.

  Kurz watched from his position on the floor as he leaned against the doorframe, seemingly too weak to get up. Tears swelled in his eyes, releasing slowly and steadily one by one. Pokole’s body rested on the table, around which the dwarves had gathered. Only Jalb’s eyes remained dry. Duan and Kapos made room for Katiyana and she grabbed hold of Pokole’s little hand. At the touch, the tears flowed, slick and free out of her eyes and down her rosy cheeks. I’d never seen such pain, such remorse. What a lovely girl Katiyana truly was.

  “I should have stayed with him today,” she said. “He would still be alive if I had stayed.”

  She broke down in sobs, leaning over the frail little body, and soon many little arms surrounded her, bearing her up.

  “It’s awful what happened,” Duan said after a time, his chubby arm barely reaching Katiyana’s shoulder. “But you can’t blame yourself. It will only bring you greater grief. It’s a miracle he lived as long as he did. It’s a miracle you even got to know him at all.”

  “I’ll miss his little voice,” Corto said.

  “And the funny things he said,” added Arrapato.

  “I’ll miss him keeping me company on the table while I cook and wash,” Jalb remarked with a far-off look in his eyes.

  Kurz rose to his feet, turned away from them all and walked outside. Only minutes passed before the rest heard him sawing and hammering.

  “What’s he doing out there?” Kapos asked.

  Katiyana remained stooped over Pokole’s body, holding tight to his tiny hand and touching it to her face.

  Jalb walked over and looked out the window. “He’s making a casket.”

  This caused Katiyana to break down with greater force. She lay her head on Pokole’s chest and cried with such volume and passion it nearly broke my heart.

  “Come away from there,” Duan said, tugging at Katiyana’s waist.

  He succeeded at getting her to sit down. Kapos went outside to help Kurz, and a heavy silence fell over the rest of them, all conversation smothered under the power of their grief. What gloom!

  By nightfall, a small, sturdy casket made of chestnut wood waited for its occupant. When Kapos came back inside, Katiyana—who had kept faithful vigil by Pokole’s side all afternoon and evening—rummaged through the box Jeremy had given her until she found the ruby from Iden. She carried it outside, pulling the door closed behind her. Stars lit up the clear sky and crickets chirped a lamenting song. The distant sound of an owl’s hoot echoed through the darkness.

  Kurz had also dug a grave. He sat on a tree stump beside the casket, the shovel sitting beside him.

  Katiyana held the ruby out to him. Kurz took the jewel from her hand.

  “Could you use this in some way?” she asked. “Could you decorate the box somehow?”

  “Where did you get this?” he asked.

  Katiyana shrugged. She must not have wanted to mention Trevor Blevkey at such a time, and I can’t say I blame her. She bowed her head, avoiding Kurz’s question altogether.

  “Of course I can,” Kurz finally answered. “I’ll carve a spot in the center of the lid for it to rest.”

  Katiyana’s lips quivered as she whispered her thanks, and she hurried back inside.

  ^-]

  The next morning, Katiyana and her six little men arose early, none of them having eaten or slept. Pokole’s body had rested on the table all night, his casket on the floor beside him, the blanket Katiyana had purchased the day before covering all but his face.

  They all stood around the table once more.

  “We’d best get to it,” Jalb said. “No matter how unpleasant.”

  Corto and Arrapato stood at the tiny dwarf’s head, lifting his shoulders and protectively cradling him. Kurz and Jalb lifted his feet. They placed him inside his box and each gave him some gesture of good-bye: Katiyana kissed his hand and tucked the wool blanket all around him; Kapos said, “Good-bye friend!”; Corto and Arrapato held their right hands over their hearts; Duan placed a book inside his casket; Kurz gave a great big sniff and then gently rested his hand on Pokole’s chest; Jalb placed a bottle of wild raspberry jam next to him.

  They lingered in the moment, nobody wanting the finality of this good-bye.

  Then a knock sounded at the door—Iden and his horrible timing. Undoubtedly he was growing restless, knowing the queen would be after him.

  “I’ll bust his teeth for coming here at a time like this,” Jalb said.

  “It doesn’t need to come to that,” Duan said. “I’ll get the door.”

  “No, I’ll get it,” Katiyana spoke, shifting away from everyone else and going to the door.

  “Are you all right?” Iden asked upon seeing Katiyana’s face. “I was worried about you.”

  “I don’t want to see you anymore.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I want you to turn around. Then I want you to walk—I don’t even care which direction you go. Keep walking. And I want you to always remember this one thing: you are not welcome here.”

  Kapos began softly clapping in the background, but Duan nudged him to stop.

  Iden huffed. “But I don’t understand. Yesterday I told you that I loved you. And I thought you were falling in love with me too.”

  “People say a lot of things they don’t really believe, and they put up with a lot of things they don’t really want to,” Katiyana explained. “I know now that I don’t want to see you anymore.”

  Kurz came behind her and reached up to place a hand on her shoulder. “Good-bye, Trevor.”

  They closed the door, letting it shut tight in Iden’s face, and then returned to the others.

  “Help me with the lid,” Kurz said, and Jalb quickly obeyed.

  The ruby looked stunning on the top, a tribute to the beauty beneath.

  “Let’s take it outside, men.” Kurz led the way.

  Each dwarf lifted his share of weight and Katiyana followed closely behind, carrying a bunch of lavender stems in her hand.

  Kapos got down in the hole and helped rest the box on its end. Then he climbed back out and all of them pushed until the whole casket was inside.

  Every one of them helped to shovel or push dirt on top. When nothing but a mound of smooth dirt could be seen, Katiyana broke the awful silence. “I need to go home now,” she said.

  “This is your home,” Duan said. “You’re always welcome here. We’d love for you to stay forever.”

  “I know. But I need to see my uncle. I need to see my home.” Katiyana lowered her head, as if there was something more she needed to say but didn’t quite know how to say it. “I just need to be alone.”

  Jalb packed her a sack of food.

  “I’ll be back in a few days,” the princess promised.

  As she walked out the door that day, I knew the little dwarf house in Fluttering Forest was about to have its loneliest spell ever.

  And I tried to comfort myself. Because Queen Radiance would arrive in the heart of Mischief just as Katiyana walked away from it.

&nbs
p; Going Home

  K atiyana struggled to hold back her tears as she walked the road from Mischief Market to her uncle’s house. I imagine she still blamed herself for Pokole’s death. Perhaps she even thought it impossible to face the others at such a time. How I wanted to comfort her then, hold her in my arms, and stroke her long hair.

  I could only guess how she felt about returning to Barney. Would he be happy to see her? Or angry? How had the orchard been faring? Would the trees be grown over with far too many branches that hadn’t been pruned? Were the animals still alive and cared for? As I thought about it, I realized that I looked forward to seeing Katiyana at the orchard again. Somehow, it is where my memories of her were engrained.

  Still, she walked, with no thought of me or my spectrum of emotions and speculations. Her tears stopped as soon as the orchard came into view. I knew she loved her little men, but I could tell she had missed this place. Barney’s orchard stood on the most diversely beautiful piece of land in all of Mischief. No wonder she calmed upon seeing it.

  The sun barely lit the top of the bluff and would soon stop giving its light to anything around her. The bleating of lambs called out as she approached the house, and she smiled at their sound. She tiptoed up the steps of Barney’s house and paused. I wondered if she debated whether to knock or simply walk in as she had always done; perhaps she considered turning around altogether. Then her hand clasped the doorknob.

  “Uncle?” she called after walking inside. But a dark stillness pervaded the entire house. She came upon the soiled, ramshackle kitchen, placing her hand over her mouth, suppressing a gasp. Mud and animal dung had been smashed into the floor by Barney’s footprints. Bare cupboard shelves stared back at Katiyana, as did spills of sugar, flour, milk, and water. It was obvious he had managed poorly without her.

  “Uncle?” she called again. And there he was, lying on his bed, just an outline under his blanket in the lurking shadows of dusk—cold, still, and dead.

  Katiyana gasped, this time covering her whole face with both hands. And I don’t blame her; the deaths of two people in one day, two people who had been loved, was too much for anyone to bear. But there were no tears for Barney. Regret and wonder, perhaps a twinge of compassion and lingering love, but no tears. He couldn’t have been dead very long, and I’m sure that made her feel worse. Had she come back sooner, he wouldn’t have had to spend his last hours and days alone.