by Eustacia Tan
“I think,” the oldest dwarf spoke slowly, “we should fight to the death for it. This will only sustain one of us.”
As soon as he finished speaking, all seven dwarfs lunged at each other. They tore the rags each other wore. They bit and kicked with what little energy they had left. They performed the best that they could until three apples finally flew through the window and landed on their heads.
“Wonderful,” Marah cackled as she peered through the window. The Goblin Queen’s eyes gleamed gold, and the dwarfs shrank back. “Don’t worry, my dears,” she cooed, “I’m not going to harm my loyal subjects. You just need to return to your goblin forms, and all will be well. Now, does anyone have anything to confess?”
The dwarfs shook their heads, staring at the floors.
“Pity,” Marah said dryly, “I thought I might be able to give one or two of you your names back. Now, where’s the sugar?”
Trembling, the youngest dwarf walked to the corner of the cottage, where a sack of gleaming white sugar sat. He hefted it over his shoulder and brought it outside, to Marah’s wagon. It was a marvel, a wagon that walked on four legs, modeled after her original house.
“Is this all?”
The youngest nodded.
“Are you sure?” Marah reached out and cuffed him on the ear. “I’m giving you my best apples, and yet you’re all still dwarfs. Even Snow White couldn’t take more than a bite before the poison took hold. Or,” her eyes narrowed, “are you secretly keeping some sugar?”
The youngest shook his head.
“Speak up!” Marah barked.
“No,” he mumbled.
Marah sniffed and turned around. “Stupid human,” she muttered.
“What?”
“I said, stupid Dwarf,” Marah repeated, her fingers twitching at the side. The youngest nodded, yes, that was what she said. How could he have misheard. The hunger must have been getting to him. He walked back into the cottage, where his remaining brothers had gathered around the three apples.
“What now,” said the oldest dwarf, “do we continue on, or do we go back to Marah?”
One of his brothers brought the half-apple and threw it in. As it was, six would be poisoned, and the last would be killed by the rest.
“I can’t kill,” the youngest whispered, and the rest nodded.
The oldest dwarf got to his feet, weariness etched into his face. “So it is decided. We mine for sugar to purify the apples.”
*******
Slowly, they trudged to the caves. There would be no singing, unlike the past, where Marah gave them un-poisoned fruit and they gave each other nicknames.
No more.
They knew now that all freedom was a lie. Marah had lulled them into complacency and then fed a fresh goblin apple to their last guest. They would not trust anything she gave them. Not ever again.
So the dwarfs toiled until they had mined a cupful of raw sugar, which sparkled like diamonds. The precious ingredient in hand, they trudged back to the surface. The youngest dwarf took out a small, battered pot and placed the sugar in it. When the sugar had turned golden, they dipped the apples in it.
Immediately, the sugar hissed. Black thorns etched themselves onto the apple, slowing spreading until the caramel had turned completely black. When it had cooled, the dwarfs cracked open the poisonous shell and took out the fruits. Each of them would get half an apple, barely enough to last them through the week.
As he nibbled on his portion the youngest dwarf stared at the black shards of caramel. A memory floated into his mind. Once, he had liked caramel.
“Do you remember the girl?” he asked.
“Her name was Snow,” the oldest said. The other five dwarves shrank back from them.
Snow.
Golden hair, blue eyes, porcelain skin.
No.
Snow White had black hair and pale skin.
Who was that girl?
Who was he?
The pain roared in his head and he clutched his head, the apple dropping onto the floor with a thud.
Find her, his heart whispered.
Who, his brain asked. Snow? The golden girl?
No.
He could feel arms under him, lifting him and helping him to his corner of the room. He was placed gently down onto the hard floor. But all he could see were images, none of which made sense. He barely focused on one image before it was replaced by another. There were people, there were places, there were events. There was a life that he had lived and forgotten.
The youngest dwarf jumped out and ran out of the cottage. He had to find answers. He had to find the girl.
*******
“So this is where you are,” the old one said. A minute later, his head poked through the leafy walls. “I never expected you to hide in a bush.”
The youngest dwarf, curled into a ball, didn’t even look up. The oldest dwarf pushed his way into the bush. There was barely any space, but it was nothing compared to the worst of the mines.
“Why did you run?” He nudged the youngest dwarf.
“My apologies,” the youngest said. “But the images were too much.”
“Images?” The dwarf heaved a sigh of relief. “That’s good. I thought you might have—”
“Might have what?”
“It’s nothing.”
“What?”
“Let’s just go back.”
The young dwarf dug his heels into the ground and grabbed the trunk of the bush. “I’m not leaving until you finish the sentence.”
“Must I?” The old dwarf waited and when there was no reply, continued: “I thought you might have remembered your name.”
“I wish I had,” the youngest dwarf said mournfully. “I had taken care to hold on to my true name up till... till I forgot, I suppose. I don’t know when that happened. But I remember that much.” He let go of the bush but made no move to leave.
“Would you like a name?”
The youngest dwarf thought for a while. “I want my name.”
“Well, I don’t know that, and neither do you,” The old one said. “I shall call you Fin. I read it in a book once, at the end of a page. Is that enough to make you return?”
The young dwarf opened his eyes. “You’ve read books? What are books? Wait, books. I feel like I know what they are. I can almost picture them.”
It was the old dwarf’s turn to open his eyes in surprise. “You do? You are a strange one. You can call me Doc, for that was who I was until I became a dwarf. I remember that much.” He gave the other a rueful smile. “But it is strange, not being able to remember anything. Most of us hold bits and pieces of our former life close to us, for penance, I suppose.”
“I remember nothing. Someone must have taken it.” He shifted uncomfortably. The bush was starting to close in on him, and he could feel the sweat running down his back. The voice was coming.
“Calm down,” Doc said sharply, grabbing Fin and pushing him into the fresh air. “Take deep, slow breaths. You’ve got a strange look on your face. I don’t know what it is, but I don’t like it.” Doc continued speaking calmly from inside the bush, the timbre of his voice strangely soothing. “It’s strange, in all my years at the cottage, I don’t remember ever asking your name. It’s a pity, I might have remembered it for you. But come to think of it, I don’t remember you in the cottage, until you ran out. You are an empty spot in my mind.”
Yes, he was a medical man, Fin could tell. He didn’t know how, he just did. He took a deep breath and exhaled, shuddering. The voice was gone for now. Now calm, he pushed his way back into the bush, ignoring the thorns that dug into his skin, trying to cling on to him.
“Why were you sent to the mines, Doc?” he asked, trying to turn the subject away from him.
Doc stared at him. “I don’t recall,” he admitted. “I know it has something to do with my profession, for I used to make poisons of all kinds. But now that you ask, I find that I’ve forgotten. What about you?”
Fin closed his e
yes to think, and images flashed in his mind. A beautiful girl with golden hair, sitting at the window. Her eyes were sad, but she wasn’t crying. There was a dark-haired woman, weeping as her daughter was led away in a red cape. And last, a little girl with hair as dark as night but skin as white as snow, with lips as red as a poisoned apple. She was looking up at him trustingly. He had taken her away from her parents, who were dead.
“I don’t know,” he said as he opened his eyes. “I haven’t the faintest idea.”
“Really?”
Fin nodded and leant back, the thorns digging into him. He could feel something trickling down his arm.
“Get away,” Doc ordered, pulling him away from the the green wall. “You’re bleeding, and I don’t have any equipment on me. Although I don’t know how much use I’d be,” he said with a half smile. “Since I was trained to kill, not save. Look at your arm, we’ll have to find some cloth to bind it if the bleeding doesn’t stop soon.”
Fin looked down at his arm and noticed blood trickling down his arm, falling gently to the ground. So that was what it was. He moved away from the thorns.
“Let’s go back,” Doc said. “Any longer and one of the others might give in to temptation and report our disappearance. Remember, our new names must be kept a secret.” He waited for Fin to nod before he turned and slowly pushed his way out of the bush, Fin following.
“That’s odd,” Doc said as he winced, a thorn digging in to him. “I could have sworn this bush didn’t have any thorns.
Chapter 3
The morning was torture. Lizzie barely had three hours of sleep before it was time for breakfast. And since her parents were big on the whole ‘mealtime is family time’ idea, skipping breakfast was not an option. Though she really shouldn’t complain, Lizzie thought as she sniffled a yawn, because she was pretty sure Laura had less sleep than her. Laura was at her side when she awoke, as usual. It was pretty amazing that her best friend could do that.
“Lizzie, darling, are you very tired?”
“Sorry, mom,” Lizzie said and tried to stifle another yawn. “Laura and I didn’t come home until daybreak.”
Snow White smiled. “So the party went as you hoped?”
“No,” Lizzie shook her head. “It was a complete failure. I’m never going to get their respect.”
“Don’t say that,” Snow White said immediately, “All the nobles were telling me about how much their children wanted to meet you. What about Marcelle? Weren’t you close as children? I thought you were going to ask her about Lady Bella’s opinion of my new proposal.”
“That was a long time ago,” Lizzie mumbled at her plate. “And I forgot, sorry.” Why did her mom keep bringing up Marcelle? Anyone with two functioning eyes could see that they hadn’t been friends for years.
“Well, I’m sure the next party will be better. Perhaps we could host it.”
“No, it won’t. It will never be better because they hate me.”
Lizzie regretted the words as soon as she spoke them. Stupid, stupid her. She had assured her parents that things were getting better yesterday.
“Perhaps you need more practice,” Snow White said gently.
“I’m not going for more etiquette lessons.”
“I wasn’t going to say that. I was going to say that perhaps it’s time you started helping your father and I.”
Lizzie looked at her mom, who smiled, revealing already blackened teeth.
“Are you serious?”
“Of course. You’re a responsible girl, your father and I know that, and I’m sure once everyone sees how capable you are, they’ll respect you as their future queen.”
Lizzie got up from her seat and hugged her mom. “Thank you so much.”
Snow White patted her head. “Don’t let us down. Now go and finish your breakfast.”
With a grimace, Lizzie made her way back to her plate and looked down. She had already finished the delicious, salty bacon, but the sugary grapefruit looked terrible. Sitting there all sparkly and full of tooth decay. But her mom had just promised her responsibility. She couldn’t act like a child now. As quickly as possible, she took the grapefruit and ate it. She shuddered as she swallowed. She could already feel the sugar rush kicking in. There went all hope of a quick nap before her lessons started.
“Good girl,” her father said, giving her an encouraging smile.
“I wish that we could eat real fruit,” Lizzie complained.
Lizzie knew her father would respond by shaking his head. As always, he would find a way to say no, and explain very patiently that “it’s not safe for you to eat any fruit. Neither is it for any of us, the effects of the curse were far wider ranging than your mom and I first thought. Your mom misses them too, but I cannot take the risk, even if the poison is gone from our land.”
It might be true, but hearing the same thing over and over again did nothing to dampen her curiosity. Her mother wasn’t even listening, her attention on the stack of letters in front of her.
“Oh.”
Both Lizzie and King White turned to her immediately.
“What’s wrong, mom?”
“What’s wrong, my love?”
Snow White looked up, her ever-present smile on her face. “It seems like my godparents would like to pay us a visit. Godfather Nutcracker writes that he hasn’t seen us for a long time, and that Godmother Marie misses us dearly. ’
King White visibly grimaced, but managed to catch himself. “How wonderful,” he managed to say through gritted teeth. “When will they be coming?”
“Next week.”
Lizzie didn’t even try to stifle a groan and her father seemed on the verge of exploding.
“What? How nice of them to give us such advance notice. And no doubt your Godfather will find some fault in our hospitality.”
“Don’t be rude,” Snow White said. “You know that if it wasn’t for him, we probably wouldn’t even be married. Or ruling this kingdom.”
“I was grateful enough at our wedding.”
“You almost threw wine at him.”
“I stopped, didn’t I?”
“I’m not listening to this,” Snow White said and turned back to the letter. “Godmother Marie wrote a letter as well.”
Both Lizzie and her father kept quiet while her mother read the letter. Lizzie looked back and forth at her parents. Her mother looked happy, as usual, while her dad was doing a worse-than-normal job of hiding his emotions. She knew eating all that sugar was bad for you.
“Oh dear,” Snow White said and frowned, her brows furrowed together.
This had to be even worse news. Her mother hated to drop her sunny disposition. For her to frown — well, the world was probably about to end.
“Godmother Marie says that the Nutcracker is thinking of using this visit to expand into Queen Beauty and King Charming’s kingdom.”
“What?” Her father roared and leapt up, overturning his plate and shattering it to pieces. A servant quickly darted forth to pick up the pieces. “He wants to use us as a base of operations? Doesn’t he think that Queen Beauty and King Charming have suffered enough? Can’t he let them rule over their kingdom in peace and dignity after all they’ve gone through? I will not allow it!”
“Stop,” Snow White said sharply, “Will you listen to yourself?”
“Will I listen to myself? Will you listen to what your dear godparents have written? They wish to invade our neighbouring kingdom. And what will happen after that? Perhaps they’ll invade us as well and take over everything.”
Lizzie quickly turned to the servants, who were all looking downward. There was no reason why they should have to watch something so embarrassing. And what if one of them was in the pay of the nobles? “You may all leave,” she said, dismissing the servants. “Come back in ten minutes to clear the breakfast plates.”
At least her parents waited until the servants left the room.
“I will not stand for this,” her father began, “I don’t care how much you
think we owe them, this is our kingdom and I do not take directions from your Godfather. Have you thought about the destruction that your godfather intends to do?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Snow White said, her voice low and angry. “Godfather Nutcracker has been nothing but kind. It was King Charming and Queen Beauty who refused to help in my time of need.”
“They were in mourning!”
“And they are still in mourning. They will forever mourn for that murderous daughter of theirs. They could have taken some time out when my parents passed away.”
“You’ve been brainwashed. I don’t know what he did before the wedding but you were not like that.”
Snow White stood and slammed her hand on the table. “I have not changed,” she hissed. “You will treat my godparents with respect when they come.”
“And why if they invade us as well?”
“My godfather will do no such thing. And even if he did, Godmother Marie and I will convince him to stop.”
“And how would that work? He never listens to anyone.”
“He would listen to you if you weren’t so rude to him all the time.”
“Me? Rude to the crazy Nutcracker King? Never!”
Lizzie watched helplessly as her parents traded barbs, each word spat out. When she wasn’t talking, Snow White was chewing her bottom lip, staining it black. And when he was talking, King White continually slammed his glass down, as though it would make a difference. Well, at this rate, it would shatter and that would mean less dishwashing for whoever was in the kitchen. That counted as a difference, right?
“Mom? Dad?”
That did the trick. The King and Queen stopped glaring at each other and turned to look at Lizzie instead.
“I’m sorry, sweetie,” Snow White said, moving towards her. “You know how stressed your father gets when your Grandfather comes. Why don’t you go prepare for your lessons, it’s history today, right?”
Lizzie nodded mutely as her mom kissed her on the forehead. She knew a dismissal when she heard one. As she walked out, she tried to think of happier things. Happier, non-shouty things. But the only other thing that was in her mind was the idea of eating real fruit.
