Snow White's Witch (Tales of Eventyr Book 2)

by Jessica Parker

  Anessa nodded her head in agreement.

  The King dismissed them and began making arrangements for Theron to enlist the aid of the dwarves.

  Chapter 12

  Anessa proceeded to the room with the mirror. She played anxiously with the emerald necklace as she stared at the Queen's reflection inside the gilded cage. For that is what the mirror was, a place for Rothe to keep his obsession.

  It shouldn't take much to give her a voice. Anessa mixed the trumpet flower with star dust.

  As she stirred, a clunking sound filled the air, but as she continued to mix, the sound slowly turned into a musical tinkling, like bells on a dancer’s shoes. Faster and faster she stirred. The music reached a new high, and a feeling of warmth and rightness filled Anessa. She gathered up a handful of the mixture and blew it on the glass of the mirror.

  Little plinking sounds resonated throughout the room. The hum became a monotone voice inside the mirror.

  "A blessing of this curse, I see the future of what’s conversed. If an answer is what you seek, in rhyme you must speak."

  "What?" Anessa asked.

  The Queen remained visible but looked toward a book lying on the table. It was Vardon’s record of all the spells and things that happened to the mirror. Anessa opened it to the first page.

  That pompous sorcerer Rothe has done it again. He’s managed to craft a spell unlike anything I’ve ever seen. It’s like being at Sorcerer School all over again where he amazed the teachers with his genius, but they didn’t see it was me who cleaned up all the messes he left behind.

  I wasn’t in the room when he showed up, or I would have stopped him. The King had me doing parlour tricks for the children. I hear Rothe had the room entranced, and his silver tongue beguiled the Queen into a false sense of security. That man hasn’t changed one bit. He was always seducing someone just to drop them when he grew bored or they were no longer useful. But I digress. From what I’ve gathered, he showed up, offering a “gift” to make amends. Then when the Queen went to look in the magic mirror, he shoved her into it.

  He said some more words, but due to the hysterics no one can seem to tell me what they are.

  Anessa thought for a moment. "A rhyme, then, would make you speak again?"

  The Queen remained quiet and looked at the book once more.

  Vardon burst into the room. “You are not supposed to be here without me!”

  “What did Rothe say after he put the Queen in the mirror?”

  “So now you need me.” Vardon reached for his book and started to pick it up. “Too bad.”

  She didn’t hesitate, she pulled out her wand and pointed it at Vardon’s face. “Brech.”

  Red spots filled with pus sprouted over his skin.

  “Page fifteen.” Vardon began scratching at the spots. “Undo it.”

  “No, now leave.”

  He hesitated and Anessa held up her wand, which was all it took to send him scurrying out the door.

  On the fifteenth page, Anessa found it, the words that sealed Rothe’s spell and the Queen in her prison. Mirror, Mirror, on the wall. True sight to the fairest of them all.

  A few tweaks should give her the answer she sought. “Mirror, Mirror, on the wall. True sight from the fairest of them all.”

  "No longer shall you guess, for the answer is truly ‘yes’."

  "How annoying," Anessa said to herself.

  “A question earlier you did speak. Rothe will never be yours to keep.”

  Anessa’s spine straightened. “The Sorcerer, as I recall, loves me most of all.”

  “Your dream, your wish. The clues you have missed. For the one who placed me in this frame, his heart is not for you to claim.”

  “This is not a game of love or hate. He will be mine. Just you wait.”

  “You are the one with the magic. Be careful, or your end will be tragic.”

  Anessa picked up the jar of star dust and threw it at the wall. "Then speak and tell, how to undo this wretched spell."

  "You must remove the defenses and return each of my senses."

  "One by one, until it’s done." Anessa vowed.

  For in Rothe's need for vengeance he hadn't seen the flaw in his genius. No, the Queen couldn't be freed all at once, but piece by piece, she could be. Piece by piece Anessa would get her vengeance.

  Chapter 13

  Anessa spent all night talking with the mirror, yelling curses at any who dared to enter. The interruptions only stopped when Theron took up guard outside the door.

  "You made a foolish mistake. The kingdom is at stake," the mirror said.

  "What do you mean, fairest queen?" Anessa discovered over the night that every few sentences she had to somehow weave a reminder that Rothe found the Queen to be the fairest when asking a question. At first it filled her with resentment, now she just found it was exhausting.

  "Strong magic. It draws and draws but not in sips. I fade quick."

  “One question I ask, about the success of tomorrow’s task?”

  “You must be alert, for tomorrow there’ll be hurt.”

  “Sleep now. You’ve done well. I’ll think about his spell.”

  The Queen's image slowly faded, and Anessa was left staring at her own reflection.

  “Klieta.”

  She glamoured herself in the manner Rothe preferred. Her hair wasn't quite as dark as the Queen’s. It had a red hue which wouldn't fade no matter how hard Anessa tried. Her eyes were too golden for Rothe, but the glamor spell would only give her blue for a short amount of time.

  Could she ever be as beautiful as the Queen in his eyes? Her hips had a little too much curve, her face was too round.

  At first they’d been happy. He was everything the stories said he should be, powerful, handsome, only driving Anessa to be more attractive. But as he became more and more accustomed to her glamor, it became less effective. Now it would only work for a few hours at a time. When it stopped, Rothe always left.

  A fluttering sensation filled her stomach. She had to know the truth.

  After a deep breath she placed her finger on the emerald at her throat. Rothe entered her mind. Just like the day in her cottage when he’d healed her, she felt cold at the touch of his magic.

  "Quick thinking about the cottage. Bring the Princess to me tomorrow. I'll be waiting at the river crossing."

  Not even a hello, just what he needed. What about what she needed? “Do you love me, Rothe?”

  “I didn’t quite hear that. The Princess, tomorrow at the crossing.”

  Of course he hadn’t heard. He never listened, he only took and never gave. "No."

  "Little dove."

  The fluttering in her stomach felt like a dying bird. "You can't have her."

  He laughed.

  "I won't let you have Snow. She’s not her mother. Give up this obsession!"

  "They're mine."

  “What about me?”

  “A means to an end.”

  "No." Anessa ripped the cold necklace off and threw it into the corner.

  Her head hurt where the clasp had been tangled in her hair. It was nothing to the crumbling of her hopes and dreams that pulled her down to the hard floor. She drew her knees up to her chest and let the tears flow.

  It wasn't fair. After everything she'd done for him over the years, it was for nothing. He only wanted the stupid mirror and the daughter to replace the Queen. Anessa wasn't good enough to replace them. She never had been.

  The cold from the touch of his magic necklace still lingered, making her shiver. This alone told her what she wasn’t ready to acknowledge before. Witches could only bond to one with whom their witchlight, their individual spark, would blend. Her light, her fire, did not accept Rothe.

  Warm arms surrounded her, and she looked up into Theron’s eyes. He didn’t say a word, just pulled her to his chest and let her cry. The steady thrum of his heart calmed her. He smelled of pine and earth, and she fell asleep dreaming of forests and stars.

  Anessa woke in
the early morning hours when night still had claim over the sky. Theron was gone, but he’d set her next to the mirror in an unfamiliar overstuffed chair, a red blanket tucked around her like a cocoon. Numb as she was from a night of crying, she was surprised she could hurt more. Theron had left her.

  She ripped off the blanket and went to her trunk for her ruby ring. Under the dress from the water coven in her trunk she felt something foreign. Grizelda must have packed the knife from Imelda, the one that could bond her life to another’s. The knife began to heat at her touch. It twisted and dripped like it was melting, but it didn’t burn. Instead when it finished, it was a gold chain with a small pendant in the shape of the knife. She placed it where she had once worn Rothe’s necklace.

  When she looked down to continue her search for her ring, her crown disguised as a comb fell out of her hair. One of the points pricked her finger when she grabbed it.

  An idea began to form as she brushed her long tresses. She'd go to the God's ice pit before she'd let him have Snow or the Queen. Snow was too young. Anessa wouldn't let her waste her life on a man who had already wasted his.

  She dug in her trunk for a few more items that would be critical to protecting Snow. As gold and silk glinted in the waning moonlight, Anessa began to hum as her plan finished forming.

  Chapter 14

  The morning started out dreary, a deluge of rain making its way through the forest. Snow and Anessa traveled in the carriage, but as the road turned muddy, it quickly became apparent that it wouldn't make it very far, very fast.

  The carriage pulled to a stop, and Anessa poked her head out the window.

  "We best be taking the horses or traveling on foot," Vardon said, echoing the thoughts that had already gone through Anessa's mind.

  "We'll never make it past the river in this downpour," Theron said.

  His gaze wouldn’t meet hers. He hadn’t said a word to her since she opened the door to the workroom this morning and found him trying to sneak past.

  "It's best if we don't go that route anyway," Anessa said.

  "Is there another way to this cottage of yours?" He asked, still avoiding her gaze.

  "We can go through the White Valley."

  "There be demons there," A young knight called.

  "The only demon you need fear is her." Another responded while pointing at Anessa.

  Her tantrum the night before hadn’t helped matters. Vardon’s face was still covered in pimples.

  "I'm not going to waste my time bickering. Theron, it's your call. Rothe most likely is watching the castle, and he'll be sure to try to stop us. At least in the valley we will have some semblance of a chance."

  "We'll go as far as we can on this path. When we can push no farther, we'll see which way is faster." Theron nudged his horse forward.

  Anessa nodded. She had also thought as much. Muttering under her breath, she cast a spell. A bubble started to form around the carriage and slowly grew until it encircled the entire convoy. As it expanded, it kept the falling water off all within its sphere.

  "Handy, that," Theron said.

  "At least I'm a useful demon." Anessa glanced at the young knight who was blushing inside his helmet.

  Anessa ducked her head back into the carriage and looked at Snow. She still wore the red flower in her hair, and she was stuffing her face with chocolates.

  "Here," Anessa said, handing a small box to her.

  "What is it?"

  "A gift to keep you safe."

  Snow pulled out a golden hair comb. "Um. Thank you?"

  Anessa chuckled. "If you keep this on you always, it will alert you to Rothe's presence, and in dire need, if you prick him with it, it will cast a sleeping spell. Just be careful not to poke yourself. It's blood activated.

  "How fascinating." Snow popped another chocolate into her mouth.

  "I have corsets at the cottage which you are welcome to. They’re spelled to become harder than steel. It will shield you from danger. We’re not quite the same size; however, it should work."

  “Thank you for doing this,” Snow said quietly.

  “It’s the least I can do. I’m sorry I offended you at dinner my first night at the castle.”

  "I should be the one to apologize. Ever since Mother was trapped, I can’t keep myself from eating. I’ve gotten a little better though. This morning I was having breakfast with a visiting prince, and I only ate twice as much as he did. I was so nervous."

  Anessa smiled. "Young love?"

  "Hardly. Father feels the Prince is a smart match for expanding our borders and resources. The prince is just so old. If he were his younger brother, it wouldn't be so bad. But he's older than Father."

  Anessa smirked. "The King isn't that old. Why he's practically a babe compared to me."

  "Really?"

  "Witches age much slower if we use our magic well. While I appear to be younger than your mother, I've actually lived hundreds of years." At Snow's shocked face Anessa laughed.

  "Then how come you were stupid enough to get into a relationship with Rothe"

  "Misguided aspirations built on fairytales. Compared to the other witches, I'm as young as you are. Rothe was the first man I met on my own. He can be quite charming when he wants to be. I'm afraid I fancied us as being in love."

  "I wish I could find my true love." Snow said.

  "All in due time. Who knows. Maybe you'll find him while you're at the cottage."

  "It won't matter. Father won't let me marry someone who doesn't make a good match."

  "Maybe I can help with that."

  Snow perked up. "Really?"

  Before Anessa could answer, a horse’s shriek filled the air.

  "Rothe," Anessa said. "Put the comb away, and don’t prick yourself on it."

  Chapter 15

  The shrieking ended as quickly as it began. Anessa poked her head out of the window. The carriage stopped, and three dark figures stood before the party.

  "Stay there,” she warned Snow White.

  Anessa stepped out of the carriage, ignoring Vardon's commands to get back in. She walked to the front where Theron stood and greeted the three dwarves adorned in silver.

  "We didn't expect you here," Theron said.

  The one in the middle spoke. “There be dark magic ahead. We came to investigate. I'm Birch."

  The lack of beards was the only reason Anessa knew they were women, for their stature was short and stocky. They had broad shoulders and any feminine curves were hidden under armor thick enough to protect them from a dragon tail.

  The leader had tattoos under her right eye -- five stars, a mark of the highest dwarven order. The King had not spared any expense when hiring them. The other two dwarves each had four stars, as only one in a squad was allowed to be a five.

  "Clear," the leader shouted.

  Four more dwarves exited the trees from the behind of the group of knights. Two from the left and two from the right.

  "The King hired seven dwarves to keep the princess safe? We have thirty men here, we can do a much better job," a guard snorted.

  Anessa glared at the man.

  "Forgive us. The man is a fool," Theron said.

  "Indeed." The dwarven leader responded and gave a whistle.

  Before the guard who offered insult could respond, a knife was flying from the dwarf on the left. It flew through the air and lodged itself in the pommel of the knight’s saddle.

  "Insult us again, and you won't have children to pass your ignorance to," the leader said.

  The guard muttered an apology, and the dwarf nodded.

  "We are vulnerable here. Pine, Blue, scout ahead." The two dwarves behind the leader blended into the trees. “We must reach our destination by sunset. Dark things happen in these woods at night."

  Anessa was about to get back into the carriage when Pine and Blue suddenly reappeared.

  "The sorcerer is coming this way."

  "Formation," Birch called.

  The dwarves created a triangle formation
around the carriage. Two dwarves on either side, two in front, and Birch climbed on top so she could command from the center.

  Anessa started to go to the front, but Theron pushed her back. "Stay in the carriage."

  "No." She pulled out her wand and cast the glamour to make herself look like the Queen. Any trick that could make him hesitate.

  Snow started to step out. "Anessa, the comb is vibrating."

  Indeed the golden object was causing Snow's hands to shake slightly.

  "Get back in now!" Theron snapped.

  Snow immediately ducked back in, but Anessa held her ground. "You need all the help you can get."

  "Fine, just stay behind me."

  Chapter 16

  Anessa peaked over Theron's shoulder. Rothe stepped out of the tree line, a dark staff in his scarred right hand. He was draped in a red velvet cloak.

  "Prompt as usual, my dear Anessa. Now hand the princess over."

  "You can't have her." Vardon stepped in front of the carriage door.

  "And you think these men will stop me?" Rothe laughed.

  "Careful who you call ‘men’,” Birch called.

  "The dwarves are a surprise, I'll admit.” Rothe twisted his hand around the staff.

  “Rothe, you don’t have to do this,” Anessa pleaded. “You can leave right now and live the rest of your life in peace.”

  “And I suppose I should live that peaceful life with the likes of you?” Rothe sneered as he looked her up and down. He turned and addressed the rest of the knights. “Let's make a deal. The first person to hand over the Princess I'll let live."

  "Over my dead body." Vardon stepped forward, staff glowing a bright blue, and pointed at Rothe.

  Rothe uttered a spell, "enaid sugno." A black light shot from the staff and hit Vardon in the stomach. He fell to the ground and began convulsing.

  "Gwella," Anessa said to counteract Rothe's magic. The convulsions stopped, but Vardon lay unconscious in the mud.