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

by Jessica Parker

  "Impressive, my dear. Most sorcerers can't even undo that. Pity, though, as my old classmate will die anyway."

  "Lasair." Anessa flicked her wand at Rothe, and a red light shot at him. He quickly deflected it into the dirt. However, it still brushed the corner of his cloak, which caught fire.

  Rothe stripped it off and flung it at a line of guards. It hit their helmets, and the flame spread from the cloak to their clothing in seconds. There was no way they could escape the burning in time. Within mere moments their bodies dropped, and the fire continued to consume them.

  "Eternal Flame. Nasty piece of work if you don't know how to contain it." Rothe smirked at her. "But that was one of my favorite cloaks. It will cost you, my dove." He flicked his staff again, and the fire was thrown at the carriage.

  Before the fire could spread, Birch threw a silver net over it. Impossibly, the net smothered the fire.

  Rothe began whipping his staff from right to left. The guards were thrown from side to side, much like a dragon's swinging tail might do.

  Dragon. That's it!

  Rothe's spell casting arm was the same one she'd healed when the Dragon Vanduo had stripped its flesh. "Symud."

  Then, just like that, Anessa felt the seeds of the healing magic she'd used on his arm and used them to control its movement. Like threads to a puppet, she bent his arm back and twisted.

  Rothe cursed.

  He chanted a different spell, and green balls of light began exploding out of his staff. One of them hit Anessa in the stomach. It knocked the breath out of her, and she hunched over as she sucked in air.

  "Atsukti!" Anessa drew on her death magic, and pulled the seeds of her healing magic out of Rothe's arm.

  Deep lacerations appeared on his arm from his elbow to his fingertips. The flesh began curling back as if it were being stripped all over again. He let out a scream.

  "This isn't over! You’ll never be good enough, Anessa," he yelled even as he vanished from sight.

  "He's gone," Birch called.

  "How can you tell?" One guard asked.

  "No more dark feeling." Birch glanced at Anessa.

  "Are you okay?" Theron asked Anessa.

  Shoulders hunched, Anessa nodded. "I'll be fine once his spell dissipates."

  In her own mind Anessa knew that wasn't what kept her from standing straight. Death magic had a heavier price than the others. Those who practiced it, the ones everyone called crones, didn’t live long. With each dark spell used to harm, physical health and form were sacrificed.

  Anessa pointed to two guards. "You and you. Put Vardon in the carriage."

  Anessa opened the door to the carriage.

  "Ogre snot," she cursed.

  Snow was passed out on the floor. Clutched in her hand was the comb. Blood leaked out of her closed hand.

  "Birch, inside with me. Put Vardon on a horse and send him back to the castle. We need to get to the cottage now."

  "Is the Princess alright?" Theron asked.

  "Get your men back to the castle with Vardon. The Dwarves and I will get Snow to the cottage."

  “Others can take him back. I’m staying with you.” Theron jumped up next to the dwarf driving the carriage.

  Anessa didn’t have time to argue, so she hurriedly climbed inside the carriage where Birch was laying Snow on one of the seats. Birch commanded the other six dwarves to get the carriage moving.

  "What’s really wrong with her?" Birch asked.

  "Blood poison. If needed she could fight Rothe with this." Anessa handed the bloodied comb to Birch.

  "A comb. Against him?"

  "I put a spell on it. Blood activates it."

  Anessa grabbed Snow’s handkerchief and held it against the wound. Just a prick, but it still bled.

  Birch put the comb out of the way.

  "Help me nullify the magic, or she’ll die.”

  Chapter 17

  Anessa began to chant, building a connection between herself and the poison, as Birch pulled out a silver straw and knife.

  "Won’t need your spell." Birch said as she used the knife to make a larger incision around the source of the comb prick in Snow's palm.

  "What are you doing?"

  "I have to get this in her. Unless you'd prefer I jab it into her heart."

  "No. I just don't understand why you need to."

  Birch stuck the straw in and sat back. "The silver will draw out the poison on its own." As she spoke, the silver began to discolor and turn black.

  Even as Birch spoke, Anessa could feel the poison leaving Snows body.

  "What's happening?" Anessa pointed to the color.

  "The silver can only absorb so much magic before becoming useless. When it's no longer silver in color, it'll be sent back to the woods to be made into some trinket for travelers. That should do it."

  Birch pulled out the straw and then put what looked like a wood chip over the wound. "Pine sap. It works great to seal wounds."

  "That's not necessary." Anessa waived her wand to heal the wound, but nothing happened.

  Birch smirked. "Magic won't work on her for the next couple of days. The silver in her blood is making sure your magic poison is erased."

  Anessa sat back and laughed. The stress and fear of the morning washing away.

  Soon the sound the carriage wheels made changed as it went over the stone bridge. It wouldn't be long now.

  "So tell me about your magic," she said to Birch.

  "Not much more to tell. I don't have fancy magic like yours or the ego bloated sorcerer. Being a dwarf means having a sense for directing it into silver."

  "Without silver would you be able to counteract magic?"

  "A bit. Tempered silver just makes it easier. Like the straw. It would have taken a lot longer and a lot more effort to find all that poison myself."

  "I would have helped you."

  "It would have been like mixing oil and water. They just don't work well together."

  "I suppose you’re right. What did you mean by tempered?"

  "This is dwarven silver. It needs special treatment."

  "Isn’t it all the same?"

  "Common mistake. There’s the pretty trinket dwarf silver and then there’s Dwarven Silver. The latter involves a meticulous collection process and tempering by a master dwarf. Only dwarven squadrons can use it. Although my dopey cousin Juniper did misplace a batch."

  "Are you all named after trees?"

  "Don’t get out much, do you. Yes, we’re all named after trees. When you’re the shortest creature in the forest, the giants around you are awe inspiring."

  There were two thumps on the top of the carriage followed by, "Castle ahead."

  "Castle? I thought we were going to a cottage?"

  "I'm a Queen. By my standards it is a cottage."

  Birch opened the curtain on the window and whistled. "Some cottage."

  Anessa gazed out the window as well. On the banks of the White River stood her home with two small towers and multiple large windows on the main floor. Tall pine trees lined the north side, while silver trees lined the south.

  Chapter 18

  Anessa looked out from the windows in the guest room where Snow would be staying. It wasn't the most comfortable, but it would work until she woke up. At least the view was good. This section of water ran clear, but the cold current was deceptively swift and would carry away anyone who dared cross. Even if the water wasn't challenging enough, the generations of magic also prevented unwanted visitors.

  At the moment only the dwarves, Theron, Snow and Anessa were allowed on the grounds.

  "Who are you?"

  Anessa turned around expecting Snow to be talking to Birch, but indeed Snow was talking to Anessa, and Birch was nowhere to be seen.

  "It's me, Anessa."

  "Where am I?"

  "Safe at the cottage, far from the Palace."

  "Stop fooling. Mother will be so cross with me. I must have slept through the dress fitting."

  "Fitting for wh
at?"

  "My sister's wedding. Mother must be frantic. She's determined that her daughter and the Elf King will have the grandest wedding ever seen in Eventyr."

  "Birch!" Anessa called.

  Birch came into the room followed by Theron.

  "What?" Birch asked?

  "Her memory is gone for the last month. She doesn't know about her mother, Rothe, or any of it."

  "Rothe? Isn't that the name of the sorcerer Father banished after he tried to kill mother?" Snow asked.

  "What spell did you use, specifically?" Birch asked.

  "Sanguinem viriditas."

  Birch cursed. "We're lucky it's only a month."

  "Is there nothing we can do?" Theron asked.

  Snow moved to get up and let out an exclamation of pain. She held up her hand and the skin under the bandage had turned grey. Black lines grew like vines up her arm.

  Birch grabbed another silver straw from her pouch. "This is going to hurt your Highness, but if I don't do it, you'll lose more of your mind."

  "What are you talking about?"

  Birch nodded towards Anessa. "The spelled comb you got from the Witch Queen pricked you. If we don't get all of the poison removed, your memories will become nothingness each time you close your eyes."

  "You cursed me?" Snow looked at Anessa in horror.

  "Not on purpose. You pricked yourself on the comb I gave you to use against Rothe."

  "A comb is not a weapon. You wanted to kill me."

  "No, I --"

  "Get out!" Snow screamed and burst into tears.

  Theron turned to Anessa. "Perhaps you should leave the room. We’ll explain everything later."

  Anessa nodded, willing the sting in her heart and prick of wetness in her eyes not to fall. She left the room. She could hear Snow’s sobs all the way from the kitchen as Theron told her about the attack from Rothe and her mother being trapped in the mirror.

  Snow wasn’t supposed to get hurt. The comb was supposed to be a clever protection if all else failed. There just hadn’t been time to show her how to use it before Rothe showed up.

  Anessa went to her kitchen. Maybe food would bring comfort to Snow. She pulled a bag of apples out of the pantry. These were her favorite, grown in a day on the top of the black mountain once a year. They had to be eaten on precisely the right day, or they were terrible.

  She picked up one and tried to pull the stem off. It stretched like a piece of raw bacon.

  “Not ready yet.” Anessa put the apple back in the bag and swung the bag over her shoulder. No point in letting them waste here.

  Time to go back to the castle. The Dwarves would keep Snow safe, and maybe she could save Vardon.

  Anessa went to her bedroom. Her bed was still unmade from when she’d gotten out of it after reading. No point in leaving it a mess. She made her bed and picked up the book she’d stashed under her pillow.

  She was a fool.

  Rothe hadn’t done anything like the rogue in this book. Or the pirate in that other one. Perhaps love was just a fairy tale told to children.

  After setting the book down on her desk, she quickly wrote a note to Grizelda, asking for her curse to be removed as a high elven spell was the only chance Vardon would have at living. She slipped the note through the door to the black mountain.

  She paused. The dwarves would need a quick way to communicate with the castle and an exit strategy in case of an emergency. Anessa scrawled another note, addressed it to Birch, and set it on her desk. Now to secure her workroom from prying eyes and hands.

  As she crossed the threshold of her bedroom, her tongue tingled, like it just undergone a good scrubbing. Grizelda got her note.

  So many memories bombarded her at the sight of her workroom, now all tainted by Rothe. From her balcony, she could see the castle spires. When he'd stayed for lunch and looked thoughtfully out the window, she'd assumed he was thinking about their future as she had every time she looked into his brown eyes. Instead, he must have been thinking about the Queen and how close he was to her.

  Anessa uttered another spell, and rain began to hit the clear windows. As the water dripped and slid down the glass, it became an inky black that covered everything, blocking her view and memories. Barring others from coming in.

  "What is that for?" Theron asked.

  Anessa jumped and spun around to see him in the doorway. "This room has magical artifacts. I want to make sure no one else gets hurt, even by accident."

  "Do you want to wait for the rain to stop before leaving?"

  "Now that it’s just the two of us, there is a much faster way to get back."

  "How?" He folded his arms over his chest.

  "I can transport us to just outside the castle."

  "If you could do that, why didn’t you just transport us all here? I lost good men out there. And the Sorcerer Vardon is battling for his life now."

  "The spell requires a lot of magic. For the distance necessary, I can only transport myself and one other person, and it leaves me very weak."

  "I’ll send someone to come back for my horse. Let’s go." He unfolded his arms and attempted to take a step towards her. However, her spell to keep people out was working in full force. He couldn’t move past the doorway.

  "Sorry." Anessa rushed forward and grabbed his hand. At the contact a tingle, almost a shock, rushed up her arm. Once she’d pulled him into the room, she let go of his hand, but the warmth remained.

  "How does this spell work?"

  "Well, since I’ve brought you in here, you’ll be fine so long as I don’t tell you to leave."

  "No, I… I meant the transportation one."

  "Oh." Anessa’s cheeks grew warm. "We’ll have to stand closer together I’m afraid."

  "Whatever it takes to make sure half of me isn’t left behind." He smiled his playful smile.

  Maybe he was over what happened last night and this morning.

  “How is Snow?”

  “Stubborn, distraught, hungry. She's determined to tell anyone who will listen that you're out to kill her.”

  “I have no such intention.”

  “I believe you, but your behavior last night won't convince others.”

  He stepped closer so that he was only an arm’s length away from her. It was the gentleman’s distance accepted in high society. Any closer, unless they were dancing at a ball together, would be considered scandalous.

  "Dancing! That’s it!" Anessa exclaimed.

  He stared at her in confusion.

  "If you pretend we’re dancing, that’s how close we need to be."

  "Just tell me when, My Lady."

  "I’m ready to go if you are."

  He nodded and stepped forward. He placed one hand under her shoulder blade, and took her hand in his. Anessa raised her free hand to rest on the upper part of his arm. The tingle was back, everywhere he touched.

  "Three step or four?" he asked.

  Anessa laughed nervously. She tried to mentally shake off the effect he was having on her. Her heart shattered by Rothe still ached, but now something, it felt warm and light, was stitching the broken pieces together.

  "It’s a three, but you better let me lead this one." She took her hand out of his and grabbed her wand. "Ready?"

  "This isn’t going to hurt, is it?"

  "It might upset your stomach, but, no, it won’t."

  "Very well. Let’s go."

  Satisfied, Anessa uttered another spell and waved her wand in a circle around their heads three times. The room began to spin and then disappeared altogether, replaced by the castle courtyard. But for the breath between, when it had been just her and the Captain, she hadn’t wanted to leave his embrace. For indeed his arms were around her when they appeared at the castle.

  The guards gave a shout of alarm before they realized who it was. One knight ran over to them. Theron stepped back to the gentleman’s distance.

  "Sorcerer Vardon isn't fairing well. Please help him," The guard said.

  Anessa tried
to straighten, but the muscles at the base of her neck, where they met her shoulders, wouldn't cooperate. They forced her to hunch her neck.

  "Of course. Take me to him," She said to the guard.

  They were led to a room in the northwest corridor. The evening light streamed through a window, but even as it faded, Anessa knew that Vardon was fading with it. She hadn't stopped Rothe in time, and while Anessa didn't particularly like Vardon, he didn't deserve the slow death Rothe had cursed him with. The spells she’d used during the fight only delayed the inevitable.

  "There is nothing I can do, I'm afraid."

  "There must be something," Theron said.

  "I can save the body, but the mind is gone. Without the mind, the body will quickly wither."

  Theron motioned with his head for the room to be cleared. "We'll be left defenseless then when Rothe comes."

  "No. You have me."

  "You barely escaped the last battle." He whispered and reached for her hand.

  "I didn't think he would hurt me. I won’t underestimate him again."

  "I can't risk it."

  "What other choice do you have? Do we have?" She looked into his green eyes and saw fear in their expression.

  Chapter 19

  Anessa looked back toward Vardon's still body. Each breath he took was slower than the one before. Even now she could feel the small tendrils of her magic dwindling within him. The kind thing would be to let him die. Despite what her head told her, her heart wouldn't let her finish him off. There had to be something more she could do for him. Killing out of mercy was still murder. She twisted her hand around one of her magic threads and pulled his pain into herself.

  A squeezing sensation wrapped around her chest, making it hard to breathe.

  "We must report to the King." She said to Theron. "He'll want to know his daughter is safe."

  "Yes. And that she doesn't remember."

  Anessa nodded and walked out the door. They were both silent on their walk to the King's council room. Anessa was surprised at the chaos they walked into. The King was shouting at a young man who sat on the other side of the desk.

  As soon as the King saw them, he composed himself and cleared his throat.

  "Queen Anessa, Knight Captain Theron. What brings you here?"