Snow White and the Seven Dwarf Planets: A Space Age Fairy Tale (Star-Crossed Tales)

by J. M. Page

  There were other people on the shuttle on seats that lined the walls. Some stood, holding on to metal bars for support. When Snow stepped aboard, a man stood and offered his seat to her.

  She tried to say thanks, but the words came without sound. She didn’t try again.

  Her face was plastered all over the shuttle, too. Her eyes dark and tired, her appearance weak and beaten down. How did Hunter think that was a good idea?

  Or was he just playing her still?

  Could she trust him with the device?

  He stood next to her, his arm looped around a pole, looking out the window opposite her as the shuttle lurched forward and began its descent. Snow kept her head bowed, her shawl pulled tight around her face. She was certain that every eye in the shuttle was trained on her. Could see right through her. Was calling her a fraud.

  But she didn’t have the courage to look up and meet them. She felt the pressure of all those eyes weighing on her, making her squirm. She imagined someone snatching her shawl away and identifying her. The pointing, the accusations, all the passengers piling on her and holding her down until the Guard arrived.

  Would Hunter stand aside and let it happen?

  She still didn’t look up.

  Her nerves vibrated, her chest buzzing with the pressing need to jump up and run away. To flee all the suspicious stares and accusatory looks.

  She was so consumed by these thoughts that she didn’t notice the shuttle coming to a stop. It wasn’t until she felt Hunter’s hand on her shoulder that Snow’s gaze darted up, her body jolting, and she saw that no one paid her any attention at all.

  “Come on,” he said gently, leading the way without waiting for her. Everyone tried to get off all at once, crowding into the doorway, pushing, making it hard to breathe. Even at the back of the pack, Snow felt trapped.

  Her vision tunneled, sounds fading away like she was underwater. People pressed in on all sides, squishing her, waiting to discover her. Her knees started to crumple and she reached blindly for a nearby pole, holding onto that lifeline with an unshakeable grip.

  Finally, the pressure broke and the crowd burst free from the shuttle. Snow still stood there, her hands and face sweaty, her heart racing. The strangers all cleared away and it was just Hunter on the other side of the shuttle doors, waiting patiently for her. But her feet were glued in place. She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t face a city of people that didn’t want her.

  He stepped one foot back inside the shuttle and extended his hand, his voice a soft lure. “Come on. It’s alright,” he said.

  Her mind still couldn’t wrap around the fact that she wasn’t in immediate danger. Everything in her told her that she needed to run for her very life. And even though she could logically see that there was nothing to be worried about at that very moment, the knowledge did nothing to soothe her panic.

  Only Hunter did.

  “You’re safe,” he promised, nudging her hand with his. Her fingers were bright white from the fierce grip she kept on the support pole, and now that she focused on it, her fingers throbbed from the pressure. Slowly, she let go, one finger uncurling at a time, and slid her hand into Hunter’s.

  “Just play it cool,” he said, pulling her off the shuttle with him. “Can you do that?”

  Out in the fresh open air, the tunnel that had closed in on her vision dissipated and left the world a little brighter. She drew in a deep breath, the fist on her heart loosening its grip just a little.

  “I think so,” she choked. “I don’t know what just happened.”

  “You looked shell-shocked,” he said. Then, seeing her confusion, he added, “Panicked, you know? But it’s okay. No one’s going to recognize you. And you have me as a buffer. We just need to get to the library.”

  She nodded once, taking another deep breath. The air here wasn’t as sweet as it had been on the last planet. There was no scent of flowers in the air. Instead, smells of the city came to her. Exotic spices wafted from storefronts as busy citizens hurried to get their lunches. There was an earthy, musky kind of smell too, the smell of millions of people living in a concentrated area.

  “It should be in the center of the city. We’re on the North End now,” she said, her voice regaining strength. Focusing on the things she knew made it easier. She’d studied that map for hours.

  Looking at the map didn’t really prepare her for the grandness of the place, though. Gleaming towers of steel and glass clustered together, stretching toward the sky in the distance. Squatter buildings, made of white stone, with charming steps leading to brightly colored doors lined the streets nearest to them. There were flower boxes in the windows and gauzy curtains billowed out with the summer breeze.

  And yet, every charming little shop and home was marred with her face glaring back at her. She was everywhere. Hollow eyes staring out at nothing.

  “Don’t pay attention to it,” Hunter said. “Nobody else is.” He took her hand, like she was a child, like he wanted to make sure she didn’t dart out into traffic. It wasn’t the affectionate romantic hand-holding of before and she had the urge to shake him off.

  But he held on tight as they set off south, toward the city center.

  The further they went away from the shuttle terminal, away from the safety of their ship and anonymity, the more Snow’s heart raced. But she realized he was right. No one was paying attention to the posters or to her. No one seemed to notice them at all until Hunter had to shove past them.

  She couldn’t escape her own eyes though. They peered out at her, seeing right through her calm exterior, reflecting ugliness back at her like the shards of a broken mirror. This wouldn’t be happening if it wasn’t for Hunter filming her without her permission. It was his fault that everyone on Givva — maybe everyone throughout the Empire — had to see her weary and defeated on wanted posters.

  Snow pulled her hand from his grip and wiped it on her trousers, trying to get the feel of him off of her. Regardless of his intentions, Hunter had done this, made her more of a target, and she wasn’t ready to forgive him for it or ignore it.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Hunter

  How much further could the library be? It seemed like the midday crowds would never end, and everywhere they went, she was watching him. The blank paper eyes saying everything that she wouldn’t say to him now.

  He did this, and that wasn’t even the worst part.

  Hunter glanced over his shoulder to make sure she was still there. She was, refusing to look at him, her hands shoved in her pockets now. He did this, and now he had to deal with the consequences.

  It didn’t matter if his intentions had been good. It didn’t matter if his heart was in the right place. Right now, she was hurt, angry that this was going on around them, that her people were being turned against her and she was powerless to stop it. She didn’t have to say a word for him to see it. He knew her too well now.

  He came to an intersection and turned onto a wide-open street, finally enough room to breathe without people crushing in on all sides. How anyone could like living in a city this size was beyond him. Too many people, too much noise, too many variables to consider at all times. And he hardly noticed any of them. All he could do was picture Snow walking behind him, her lips pursed, her eyes wounded. All he could think about was the look of sheer and complete terror she’d had on the shuttle, her face white as snow itself, shining with a cold sweat.

  All he could focus on was how much he didn’t deserve her.

  “Where to from here?” he asked, turning to face her. But she wasn’t behind him.

  In a split-second, his heart slammed against his ribcage and he searched the street, fighting off a rising tide of panic. He couldn’t call out for her — not many people had the name Snow.

  He cursed, running back to the intersection. Where had they gotten separated? He never should have just let her go like that. He should have insisted they stay locked together to prevent this.

  “Over here,” her feeble voice ca
lled from a darkened corner.

  “What are you doing? You nearly scared me to death.”

  With the look she gave him, Hunter half expected her to growl as he approached. “Didn’t you see them?”

  “Who?”

  “The Guard,” she hissed.

  He stepped out of the narrow alley and peered through the intersection again. She was right. There were members of the Queen’s Guard lining the wide-open street, heads on swivels.

  How did he miss that?

  “Guess I was distracted. Is there another way?”

  He could see her pulling up the map in her head, searching for an alternate route. She finally nodded. “We need to backtrack a bit,” she said.

  He took her hand this time and swore to himself that he wouldn’t let go again.

  The only words spoken the rest of the way to the library were directions from Snow and questions about directions from him. Snow still seemed locked in that scared place, teetering on the edge of another panic attack, but if they could just get to the library, maybe she would calm down. Maybe he could calm her down.

  “There,” she said.

  The building was massive, dwarfing those around it, with huge marble columns and a grand set of stairs leading up to the entrance. Statues depicting war heroes flanked either side of the stairs, keeping sentinel over the place and a pair of glass doors large enough to drive a ship through, slid open to admit them entrance.

  Snow sagged the moment they were in the door. Here, there were no guards, no crowds, not even any wanted posters. The floor was marble, like the columns outside, polished to a mirror finish. Straight ahead, there was a circular reference desk, occupied by a blue-skinned, red-haired alien woman. Somewhere, he’d heard of a world called Basniel with people like that.

  She didn’t pay them any attention as they entered, and Hunter wasted no time pulling Snow into one of the endless aisles of bookshelves that filled the cavernous space.

  “No one here is paying as much attention to those things as you are,” he said. Before she could protest, he added, “I don’t think anyone’s buying it. The Queen isn’t doing herself any favors.” Except for how unsettled it all seemed to make Snow. He didn’t know how else to make her relax, and until she did, she’d never solve the rest of this riddle. She needed to solve it; he sure as hell couldn’t.

  Her expression remained skeptical, but there was nothing more he could say. She’d either snap out of this and be the leader they all needed her to be, or she’d stay locked up in her own fear. He knew what the Snow he knew would do. He just hoped she was still in there. They’d both been through a lot since Zomer and he didn’t know how much longer she could keep acting like it wasn’t all weighing on her heavily.

  He couldn’t stand to see her there, lost, broken, helpless. Letting this one little thing get the best of her when she’d overcome so much worse. Was this just the last straw?

  He started to walk away and she reached out for him, grabbing his wrist and pulling him back to face her. “Do you still think I can do this?”

  With one hand on each of her shoulders, he looked straight into her eyes, searching for that spark. That fight that had been there since the beginning. “Of course I do. But it’s not what I think that matters. The Snow I know wouldn’t let anyone or anything stop her from her mission. She shoots first and asks questions later. She finds a way even when it seems like there is none. I have no doubt you can do this, but you have to believe it.”

  She looked down, her shoulders sagging. He gave her a shake, just enough to make her look at him. To make her snap out of it. “You’re not going to be able to do anything unless you can learn to stop questioning yourself every turn. You have everything you need to be a great ruler, if only you could learn to trust yourself,” he said, dropping his hands to his sides.

  “And what about you?” she snapped back. “I’m still supposed to trust you while you’re acting strange and not telling me what’s going on?”

  He scowled. He wanted her to fight, but he didn’t want her to fight him. He looked away, towards the reference desk where the librarian still sat, oblivious to them both.

  “Right, of course. You have something to say for everything else, but not for that. Figures,” she spat.

  “What do you want me to say Snow?” he barked, too loudly. Loud enough that the librarian looked up from her desk, giving them a sharp glare with a “shhhh.”

  He sent an apologetic look over his shoulder, lowering his voice. “You want me to tell you the Queen demanded I bring you to her immediately? You want me to tell you I have two days before I’m dead if I don’t? That my father practically has a blaster to his temple as we speak, waiting for my failure? Is that what you want to hear? Well there you go, Princess.”

  Her jaw dropped, hanging free for a moment. “I—” She clamped her mouth shut, shaking her head, her eyes softening. “You’re right,” she said, looking down again.

  Hunter raked his fingers through his hair with a groan. “No, you’re right. I should have told you sooner. I just… I don’t know how I’m going to get out of this one.”

  Snow reached for his hand and squeezed, that familiar determination taking hold in the set of her jaw, in the fierceness of her gaze. “We will. Trust,” she said simply.

  Hunter gave her a stiff nod, his airway tight as he choked back gratitude. He really didn’t deserve her. Beneath her shawl, Snow sent him a little smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes “Let’s go figure out this clue,” she said.

  “What’s the next part?”

  “Secrets are hidden until they’re seen and the flowers of the past bloom when it’s darkest.”

  Hunter frowned. “What kind of secret wouldn’t be hidden until it’s seen? I mean, isn’t that the point of a secret?” They started winding through the aisles, Snow’s fingertip trailing along the cloth book spines, each step clicking on the marble floor.

  “Well… Yeah…” she muttered. “But it does let us know there is a secret.”

  “This whole thing is supposedly secret,” he said. No matter how much she tried to explain it to him, Hunter was sure he was never really going to understand riddles. None of it made any sense.

  “But this isn’t a secret that can be told or merely known,” she said, ignoring him, talking to herself, her voice thoughtful as she considered the possibilities of each thing she said. It was beautiful to watch her mind work. “It has to be seen.”

  Hunter shook his head. “That means nothing to me.”

  “Just keep your eyes peeled for anything unusual,” she said.

  They walked up another wide sweeping staircase behind the reference counter. At the first landing, it split off in both directions, leading up to another open level of bookshelves. They stopped at the landing to admire the mural that stretched from the farthest reach of the left staircase all the way to the end of the right. It was at least thirty feet tall, the men depicted in it larger than life.

  Snow’s breath hitched and her hand flattened against the wall. “He doesn’t look like I remember,” she said, her neck craned backwards.

  The man she was staring at was young in the mural. Maybe even younger than Hunter. He wore a close-fitting jumpsuit suitable for space flight and a stern-yet-victorious expression.

  “King Stuart,” Hunter said, recognizing Snow’s eyes, the shape of her lips, that indomitable slant of her brow. Seeing him through that lens was nothing short of bizarre for Hunter.

  “His hair was darker,” she whispered. “And he smiled all the time. At least…” She didn’t finish the sentence and Hunter didn’t fill it in for her. He knew. The loss of Queen Adriana had rocked the whole Empire, but no one was shaken as much as their beloved King himself.

  “Maybe he meant secret like… in a book?” Hunter tried. Snow was spellbound by the mural, and as much as he wanted to give her the moment, they didn’t really have time to waste. The Queen knew where they were and what they were looking for. She might buy his story fo
r now, but a shift in the wind could change her heart. And stop his.

  Snow nodded. “Maybe,” she said, turning from the wall. “Where is he looking? Maybe it’s something related to what he’s seeing?”

  “Good thinking,” said Hunter, looking over his shoulder, and back, trying to follow the King’s line of sight. “Maybe that section back there?” He pointed and they set off.

  The second level had wooden floors, covered in patterned rugs the colors of autumn, but the shelves were all lined up the same way as below, twice as tall as any man.

  “So do you think it’s in a book?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. How do you hide a device in a book? But it’s a better guess than nothing.”

  That wasn’t exactly reassuring.