Snow White and the Huntsman (20 page)

“Line up!” Snow White called to Eric and William. If they made a wedge formation, spreading out across the courtyard on a diagonal, they could corner Ravenna’s guards. The fight would be over within minutes.

A few generals stormed ahead, forming the front line. Snow White, William, and Eric kept their shields up at an angle, staying right behind them. The flaming arrows fell
against their shields. Eric burst out front, taking out two guards with his hatchets. William drove his sword into another guard’s side. Snow White rammed another man with her shield, pinning him against the courtyard wall. His head hit the stone, and he fell to the ground, unconscious.

There were only a handful of guards remaining. A few of Snow White’s army hooted loudly, already sensing that the fight was over. Four of Ravenna’s guards turned and ran for safety through the castle corridors. The ones who were left set their weapons on the ground in surrender.

Snow White turned back, searching the men for signs of the duke. He was just a few people behind her in the dense formation. Their eyes met, and he smiled, a look of relief on his face. It was over—they both knew it now. They just had to find Ravenna. Whatever magic she had, Snow White could overcome. The Queen had said so herself.

Then something in the duke’s face changed. He furrowed his brows. He looked past Snow White, up into the courtyard rafters. She followed his gaze, studying the strange black shadows that huddled there beneath the eaves. The army quieted. Eric pointed to an arched doorway where a black shadow hung in the air. They watched it. Slowly, the shadows condensed into figures. Dark warriors emerged from every archway and every corridor. Snow White glanced around, her shield slippery in her hand as she realized the truth: They were surrounded on all sides.

T
he shadow soldiers swarmed them. One charged Eric. The Huntsman slashed through his chest with the hatchet. The man shattered like glass, the tiny splintered shards exploding from his center. Within seconds, the man reformed, the pieces coming back together. He charged Eric again, swinging his glinting sword.

Snow White had never seen anything like it. All around her, the shadow warriors were attacking her army. Men fell, unable to keep up with the vicious blows, which came one after the next. The shadows showed no signs of tiring. Their faces were strange and featureless. Every wound they endured quickly healed. As they moved, driving their swords into her army, she felt someone’s eyes on her. She glanced up at the third-floor balcony. There, Ravenna stood, her black-feathered cloak wrapped tightly around her. She smiled as her eyes shifted to the magic army, the dark warriors finishing their attack.

Snow White didn’t hesitate. In the corner, by the stairwell, bodies were piled up. Resistant to pain, the shadow warriors were killing quickly. They speared one of her soldiers with their swords, then turned on another. She raced at one of the shadows, blocking it with her shield. The dark warrior stumbled back, giving her enough time to run. She swung her sword at another and shattered it. She kept weaving through the courtyard, the battle surging around her, when she finally reached the stairs. She darted up into the silent corridors, startled by the sound of her own panting breath.

She pulled out her sword as she made her way up the second flight. It was the same wing of the castle that her father had lived in all those years before. It was different now, though. The curtains were tattered. The long hallway was dark, with no torches to light the way. A dresser was toppled on its side, the wood buckling from the mildew.

Beside her, a door stood ajar, the room glowing with an eerie light. She turned, taking in the Queen’s throne room. A jeweled chair sat against the wall. Polished swords hung above it. There was a wooden case filled with ornate crowns and massive rubies. Snow White held her sword in front of her, taking it all in. Through another doorway, standing off to the side before a massive bronze mirror, was Ravenna. Snow White met her eyes in the warped reflection.

“It ends today,” Snow White said, stalking forward. “I’ve come for you.”

Ravenna turned, a slight smirk on her lips. “So my rose
has returned,” she said, laughing. She looked down at Snow White’s sword. “With a thorn. Come, avenge the father who was too weak to raise his sword.” She pulled her jeweled dagger from her cloak, spinning it in her hand.

Snow White climbed the low steps and stood before Ravenna, looking into her piercing blue eyes. The anger rose in her chest. How dare Ravenna speak of her father—the very man she’d murdered?

“For my father,” Snow White said, holding her sword aloft. “For the kingdom and for me.” She lunged at Ravenna, but the Queen darted away. She slunk back, circling Snow White from behind. Snow White turned and slashed at her again. Ravenna moved too quickly, though, and stepped to the other side of the chamber.

Footsteps sounded in the stone corridor. Snow White turned to see Eric and William in the entrance of the throne room. Ravenna raised her arm. With one flick of her finger, the ceiling above them shattered. The glass shards fell, the gray pieces re-forming into dark fairies. They swarmed the men, cutting them off from Snow White.

When Ravenna was satisfied that they wouldn’t be disturbed, she turned back to the girl, her blue eyes studying her. This child—the one she had saved so many years ago—was now coming back to kill her. The irony of it all was almost too much. Ravenna hadn’t wanted the girl to die, but there was no choice. The mirror had said so—it was her life or Snow White’s. And she’d gone on entertaining this feud long enough.

Snow White charged her, sword drawn. When she was just a foot away, Ravenna turned and tripped her, sending the girl facedown on the floor. Her pathetic sword careened across the room, to the far side of the mirror chamber. Ravenna hovered over her, her eyes fixed on Snow White’s breast bone. He heart was so close—in minutes, she would hold it in her hand. This time, she would not be stopped.

“This is all life has to offer,” Ravenna cooed. She stared into Snow White’s massive brown eyes, almost feeling a little sorry for the girl. “Time passes. Hope dies. But all is not lost. For at least now, one of us will live forever.…” Ravenna raised her jeweled dagger as she had done ten years before, the night of her wedding. It was just as easy now as it was then. She let out a breath, bringing it down toward Snow White’s chest, when the girl blocked her with her forearm and twisted her wrist. Pain ripped through Ravenna’s chest, and she let out a scream, shaking from the impact.

She looked down to the tender space where her ribs met in the center. The girl had driven a knife into her. Ravenna gasped, but she could feel the blood in her lungs. She felt like she was drowning. It was impossible to get air.

Ravenna fell to the ground, the stone floor cold against her back. “A life for a life. By fairest blood, it is undone,” she whispered.

“Hope never dies,” Snow White whispered back. The girl knelt beside the Queen, cradling her head in her hands, as Ravenna tried desperately to breathe. It was no use. Blood ran down her chest, pooling on the floor. Her vision
blurred. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. But a tiny part of her supposed it was only right—the girl was only doing what Ravenna herself had done years earlier, avenging her family.

From where she lay, Ravenna could see the dark fairies in the throne room disappear. As they changed into tiny clouds of smoke, she knew it was over. She was dying, the last of her magic powers gone.

A
fter Ravenna slipped away, her body still warm to the touch, Snow White finally let go of her hand. She walked past the Huntsman and William, down through the corridor, and out onto the balcony. The shadow warriors had vanished. Bodies were strewn all over the courtyard. Swords and shields were scattered about, blood smeared across their fronts. Soldiers lay in twisted heaps. A few of the injured staggered out of the portcullis, looking for help. The destruction was great. But Snow White gazed beyond it, noticing a patch of light in the cloister garden.

Though it was spring, the branches were withered and brown. They held not a single blossom. During the battle, a dark shadow had consumed everything around the castle. But now it lifted, ever so slowly. The colors of the kingdom were more vivid than Snow White had seen them in years. Leaves burst from the tree branches. A flock of magpies
darted past, their blue wings catching the sunlight. All around her, there were signs of life stirring. The duke staggered out of a corridor below, a beautiful young woman following him.

She looked up, her gaze meeting Snow White’s. She was even more radiant than she had been before, her pale, round face young again. Rose waved, the smile calming Snow White’s racing heart. Snow White waved back, wiping the tears from her eyes.

The following day, she sat before the kingdom in the same cathedral she’d been in ten years before. She stared out at the full pews, taking in the dwarves, who were crammed side by side in one row. Their faces were clean-shaven, their hair oiled back and parted at the side. Duke Hammond had ordered them specially tailored suits for the occasion. Snow White nearly laughed as she watched them shift in their seats, obviously uncomfortable by such formal attire.

“Are you ready, my Queen?” William asked. They stood side by side, their shoulders nearly touching. He reached out for her hand and gave it one subtle squeeze.

She glanced sideways at him and smiled, knowing it would be easier if she felt what the entire kingdom wanted her to feel for him. They loved this young man, the rebel leader, Duke Hammond’s son. But in her mind, he still remained the boy she’d grown up with, the one who’d teased her in the apple tree. He was William—always and forever, her good friend.