Poison (16 page)

Up ahead the crowd roared louder, and he saw that his mother and father had come out onto the castle balcony to greet him. He raised one hand in a salute and his father returned it. The people were almost ecstatic. The prince turned and nodded at the soldier behind him to bring forward the black stallion. The beast wasn’t as fully broken as its new owner had been, but that no longer mattered.

The stallion would make an excellent present for the king.

T
he mouse had lost the band of travellers in the forest. He hadn’t been able to keep up no matter how fast his little legs carried him. He stood up on his hind legs and sniffed at the air, his whiskers twitching this way and that. Too many scents assailed him, and he couldn’t yet tell them apart.

He scurried from bush to bush, keeping close to the ground hoping to avoid the attention of the hungry birds that filled the night skies, hooting and calling to each other as they hunted. Since claws had torn flesh from his back his first night of being cursed, he’d learned to make himself smaller, almost invisible. It was the safest way to be. Now, though, he was close to panic. He knew the edge of the forest must be close, but he was sure he was somehow going in circles. There had been too much change, too much for him to cope with, and when he’d woken under a pile of leaves near the campfire to find the dwarves and Snow White had gone, he’d almost broken. She was his salvation, he was sure of it. Only she might see past his cursed exterior. Only she could perhaps persuade the queen to reverse it.

He was tired and wanted to sleep until daylight but he pushed himself onwards. To pause would be to admit defeat and he couldn’t do that. Something white glimmered suddenly on the path ahead. He trembled and moved closer, his small nose quivering. Bread. It was bread. He nibbled a corner and it was thick and fresh. His tiny dark eyes shone as he looked further ahead. He could see another piece perhaps ten feet ahead. He ran towards it, his feet silent on the forest floor. Up ahead, another. His heart lifted. A breadcrumb trail. He ran back into the safety of the falling leaves but followed the path someone had left for him which finally took him to the forest’s edge. A new adventure was just beginning.

* * *

Finally back at home, the old lady soaked her feet, a mass of corns and bunions, in a bucket of warm water as she sat by the fire. It had been a long few days, but she smiled contentedly. It had been good to get out. She’d enjoyed messing in the business of the world a little. It made her feel alive again. It had been too many long years since she’d ventured beyond the forest, and it had been invigorating. And always good to see little Lilith. Lilith with the lisp as she’d been so many years ago.

She let her old bones settle and creak back into the chair and watched the flames dance. The house had been cold when she’d got back but it would soon warm up. The large oven was back on and soon her cottage would be toasty warm again. Yes, it had been good to get out, but it was always lovely to be home.

She thought of the breadcrumbs she’d left for the mouse. He’d find them. She was sure of that. She’d also dropped breadcrumbs all the way home too. She wasn’t even sure why, she just had nothing else to do with the bread she supposed. Bread had never really agreed with her, she just liked the smell of it baking. Gave her wind whenever she ate it.

She dozed a little and then, just as the fire began to die down, she roused herself and got up to close the curtains.

And there they were.

Two children.

‘Look! Look! This is where the bread leads!’

‘Is that fence made of chocolate?’

Giggles. Whispers.

She bent her back over, made herself look frail and prepared herself for visitors. She was happy. She peered out between the gap in the curtains. A boy and a girl. Not too young but not too old. And the little boy was decidedly chubby. She smiled and her mouth watered. She’d earned a good dinner.

THE END

S
arah Pinborough is a critically acclaimed horror, thriller and YA author. She has written for
New Tricks
on the BBC and has an original horror film in development. Sarah was the 2009 winner of the British Fantasy Award for Best Short Story, and has three times been short-listed for Best Novel. She has also been short-listed for a World Fantasy Award.

www.sarahpinborough.com

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