willing the rest of the world away, but she felt insects crawling up her legs. Something buzzed in her ear.
It was a long time before she could sleep.
T he Huntsman hacked through the thick undergrowth with his two axes, cutting down the vines and stray branches that blocked their passage. Snow White followed a few feet behind him, listening to the strange voices that whispered through the trees.
“What is that?” she asked. She couldn’t make out the words, but they kept calling to her, relentless.
“Pay them no mind,” Eric said. He swiped at some thornbushes with his axe. “The Dark Forest gains its strength from your weakness.”
The Huntsman continued on. Snow White started after him, but the path closed behind his back. A thornbush caught the side of her dress. She grabbed the soft fabric and pulled, but the branch wouldn’t let her go. Instead, it seemed like it held tighter, the barbs twisting in the thick linen. When she looked up, she could barely see Eric in front of her. Vines snaked out from the trees, the grass rose uparound her feet, and the tree limbs leaned in, coming just inches from her face.
“Huntsman!” she yelled. She pushed the branches back, trying to step through, but it was no use. The forest was swallowing her whole.
The more she struggled, the more the vines grew in thick coils around her. Leaves spread out in every direction, blocking her view. It was getting hard to breathe. She tried to raise her foot, but a branch had grown over her toe. She strained against it until it snapped. “Huntsman!”
Then, finally, she heard footsteps in front of her—somewhere beyond the tangled wall of green. An axe came down just inches from her right arm, cutting the vines that reached for her. He slashed at the forest to her left and above her, the broken limbs and leaves falling around her feet in heavy piles. She stepped forward, but her dress was still caught, that one thick, thorny branch refusing to let it go.
The Huntsman pulled a smaller knife from his belt. He took a fistful of cloth in his hand and slashed it until she was free. Snow White looked down at the dress, which now revealed her front and most of her left thigh, cropped so short, she wondered if he saw her undergarments. She glared at him, the heat rising to her face.
The Huntsman narrowed his eyes at her. “Don’t flatter yourself, Princess,” he grumbled. Then he turned and started running, as if to punish her. She stalled for one second, and he had the lead he needed. She had to sprint to catch up.
As she ran, her entire body was tense, her hands balledinto tight fists. She hated him right then. She hated the smug smile that appeared whenever he was making fun of her, or how he always seemed to know where they were going, even when the entire forest looked the same in every direction. But mostly she hated that she needed him. To lead her, to cut her free from some terrible, man-eating plants. To save her from that bastard Finn.
“Tell me, Huntsman,” she gasped once she’d finally caught up. She spit the words at his back. “Do you drink to drown your sorrow or your conscience?”
Eric whipped around, his cheeks flushed from so much grog the night before. “What concern is it of yours why I drink?” He lunged at her, coming just inches from her face.
She didn’t flinch. “I believe I have employed you to take me somewhere.” She smiled, knowing she had a point.
The Huntsman backed away. He turned and cut at the dense woods with his two axes, swiping at the branches with more force than necessary. A few broken twigs flew at Snow White’s face. “And I believe kings and queens and dukes and princesses have no business sticking their noses in common folks’ lives.”
“But you served the Queen.…” She stopped herself, remembering his face in the clearing. He’d grown so quiet when Finn mentioned his wife. “Did she pay you well?” She tried to get back to that conversation. What was the
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