Snow White Read online

  Another showed her face blurred to the sides, one had her features upside down on her face, another gave her a polka dotted face, and in yet another her wide-eyed face grew from a tree. By the time he finished showing her the paintings, Snow’s stomach ached from laughing.

  Philip put them all back in place and covered them again. Snow imagined it was like turning the lights off to him. He turned toward her and shrugged, looking a little abashed.

  “It’s not very nice, I know. It helps me let out my frustration toward her and what she’s done to all of the people here in a passive way.” He took her hand this time as they walked from the room, and Snow flushed at the gesture. “I haven’t shown them to anyone else.”

  “Well, I appreciate you showing me. I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time.”

  They went out to the musical waterfall where a picnic basket sitting on a checkered blanket waited for them. Philip led her to the blanket, and they sat.

  “You get around pretty well,” she told him. “If you hadn’t told me you’re blind, I wouldn’t have guessed.”

  “I suppose living in the same place for over five-hundred years gives it a sense of familiarity,” he said wryly.

  “I guess it would,” she laughed, closing her eyes to listen to the water. Then she popped them open and was dazzled by the combination of the tinkling music and the glistening droplets. She sighed in pleasure.

  “You like it, don’t you?”

  “Like what?” she asked.

  He waved toward the water then continued filling their plates. She was amazed that everything landed on the plate without overlapping. “I can’t see your expression, but I can hear your pleasure.”

  Snow blushed, glad he couldn’t see that. She took the plate he handed her and said, “Have you ever swam in it?”

  “In the waterfall?” He was stunned at the idea.

  “Not in the waterfall, but in the pool of water at the base of it.”

  His head turned toward the waterfall, as if he could see it. “No, I haven’t. I hadn’t thought of trying. I suppose I never thought to ask anyone if it were possible.”

  “It’s possible,” she said. “We should swim sometime.”

  Philip began coughing as he choked. “Together?” he finally managed.

  “Well . . . yeah. I mean, why not? Although, I don’t have a swimsuit. I can probably get Stitcher to make me one, though.”

  “A swimsuit?” He looked confused. “You wear a suit of some type for swimming in?”

  “Um, don’t you? What do you wear?”

  “Nothing.”

  Snow’s jaw dropped. She glanced at the water then back at Philip. No wonder he’d been shocked by her suggestion that they swim together.

  “I haven’t been swimming since I’ve been in Fableton, so I suppose things have changed,” he said.

  “You swam with other people . . . naked?” she asked, shocked. Somehow she thought that five-hundred years ago people would have been much more modest.

  “With other men,” he clarified. “Men and women don’t—or didn’t anyway—swim together. They swim together now?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “Not usually naked. Though some of the swimsuits they wear they might as well be.”

  Philip shook his head. “Guess the world has really changed in the last five hundred years.”

  “You have no idea,” Snow laughed.

  “You’re right. I don’t. So tell me.”

  Snow tried to describe airplanes, which Philip believed more than he did cars that travelled over a hundred miles an hour. She had a hard time explaining phones and so didn’t even attempt to tell him about cell phones. TV and movies were beyond his comprehension.

  “If I didn’t know how pure your heart is, I’d think you were making up stories to fool me,” he laughed when she told him about computers and the internet.

  “What makes you think I have a pure heart?” she asked.

  “Because I believe you’re the one in the prophecy.”

  “What prophecy?”

  “Before Katarina created the enchantment and blinded me and left in Fableton, I was visited by a seer. She was well known throughout the kingdom for her accuracy in her predictions. She told me that after a time, I’d be visited by a girl with skin as white as snow, and a heart as pure as her skin, who would find me without being shown, and that she’d be the key to freeing me.” He laughed. “I had no idea what she was talking about—I already had my freedom. I didn’t know what was to come.”

  Snow shook her head. “That isn’t me. My skin isn’t that white.” She glanced down at her pale arms. Pale, yes, but not white as snow.

  Philip took her hand and Snow’s heart skipped a beat. He placed his other hand on top and rubbed light circles on her skin with his thumb, sending shivers up her spine. “Maybe she got that part wrong. Maybe she spoke of your name. Everything else fits.”

  “What if everything was wrong?” she whispered. “What if I can’t do it?”

  Philip was silent for a moment, then he smiled sadly. “The worst part of that, Snow, would be that because of me you’re stuck here.”

  Snow sighed. “It’s not because of you. Katarina did this. She made you her victim a long time ago. She made me her victim not so long ago—or tried to, anyway. Who knows who else she’s hurt over the years?”

  Philip turned to her. “I hadn’t thought of that, but you’re right. If nothing else, we need to try so that she can’t hurt anyone else.”

  Snow nodded, remembered he couldn’t see the gesture and said, “Okay, Philip. Let’s see if we can figure it out.”

  He lifted one of his hands from hers and placed his hand along the side of her neck, rubbing his thumb lightly on her cheek. “You’re an amazing person,” he said. She started to shake her head, which he felt. He leaned forward and she stopped, holding her breath, wondering if he’d kiss her. With a start she realized she wanted him to. “Don’t let her get inside your head. She was wrong. You are valuable, and worthy, and kind. Your beauty comes from within.”

  Snow stared at him. “You don’t . . . I can’t . . .” She blew out a breath. “Thank you.”

  Philip smiled, and Snow once again marveled at how gorgeous he was.

  “Let’s go talk to Stitcher and see about getting some of those . . . swim . . . suits you were talking about. If nothing else, we’ll cause a scandal by swimming together.”

  Snow laughed. “Sounds like fun.”

  “Which? Swimming or causing a scandal?”

  “Both.”

  *****

  The swimsuits Stitcher made for them looked like something from the 1920’s, with a tank-style top and shorts-style bottom, but trying to describe a modern swimsuit—even a modest one—sent Stitcher into a nearly apoplectic fit.

  The water was surprisingly warm as they stepped in. It felt like water in spite of how it looked and sounded. However, their skin glistened and sparkled in the sun wherever the water touched it. Snow dove beneath the water and came up near Philip. She thought of splashing him, but realized it would be unfair since he wouldn’t see it.

  Philip was staring at her, a look of stunned wonderment on his face. Did he feel something different than she did in the water, much as he’d heard something different that she couldn’t until he showed her? She closed her eyes, concentrating. Nope. Still felt like water.

  Then Philip’s hand touched her cheek and her eyes flew open. Such emotion crossed his face she thought something bad happened. “What is it, Philip? Is something wrong?”

  He smiled, his face brilliant, and laughed. “No. In fact, everything is good. No, better than good. Fantastic and amazing.”

  “What?” she asked. Maybe swimming was something he’d missed more than he realized.

  “I can see you,” he said, dropping his hand to her shoulder.

  Snow’s jaw dropped. “What?” she repeated.

  He nodded. “It’s true, I can see you. I couldn’t before, until you came up out of the w
ater, but now I can.”

  Snow glanced around her at the diamond-like water as if she could find the answers there. Then she looked back at Philip who was grinning widely at her. Her stomach fluttered at the look.

  “Do you think Katarina made the water magical, so that you can see anything it touches?” she asked.

  Philip looked over her shoulder. “I don’t think so because I’ve never seen it before. Now I see it all.”

  “Can you see anything outside of the water?” she asked.

  Philip looked all around. “I can see everything,” he said, excitement lacing his voice. “At least, I think I’m seeing everything.”

  “What do you see?” she asked.

  “The water . . . it’s dark blue, like . . .”

  “Sapphires?”

  “Yes!” he exclaimed. “That’s exactly what it looks for, but it sparkles. The rocks are white and silver that the water falls over.” He looked toward the bank. “The trees are deep red instead of the green I imagined them to be. And the sky,” he looked up. “I’d forgotten how blue the sky can be.” His gaze came back to her. “You, Snow . . . the painting didn’t do you justice.”

  Snow blushed and Philip grinned.

  “You’re blushing,” he teased, which only made her face heat up more. He took a step closer to her, his grin falling as intensity overtook his face. “It’s you, Snow. You’re the reason I can see. If you weren’t in the water with me, I don’t think I could see.”

  Snow shook her head. “You give me too much credit, Philip.”

  “No, I don’t think so. I think it was more than your beauty that Katarina was jealous of. I think she knew that you were the one who could break the curse. That’s why she wanted you dead.” A look of fear entered his eyes. “That also means that if she knows you’re alive, she’ll come after you. You’re in danger, Snow.”

  Fear trilled up Snow’s spine. Somewhere inside she’d known that all along, once she began to believe Fableton was what Philip professed it to be. If Katarina could create a place like this, she could surely discover that she lived—if Hugo hadn’t already told her. She suspected the hunter would have lied to Katarina to protect himself, though.

  Suddenly Philip pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. “We have to protect you, Snow. Even if the curse is never broken, we have to make sure she can’t finish the job.”

  Snow wrapped her arms around Philip’s waist. She was trembling, knowing what Katarina was capable of. And yet, she had no doubt that Philip could protect her. She knew that The Seven would do what they could to protect her as well. And she was no helpless victim. Hadn’t she escaped Hugo against all odds, and found her way here to Fableton? Her fear subsided and she relaxed in Philip’s arms.

  She felt when his hold changed. The tenseness in his arms went from a clench of alarm to an embrace. His hands began moving, ever so slightly, up and down her back in small motions. His heart beneath her ear began to pump harder—as did hers. His cheek resting on her head moved in a caress. She shivered again, this time having nothing to do with fear.

  Philip leaned back and looked down at her. His eyes were no longer cloudy white, but a pure sapphire blue like the water. She didn’t know if it was a trick of the water reflecting in his eyes, but he was looking so intently at her she knew he told the truth. He could see her. Those beautiful blue eyes dropped to her mouth, and she shivered again.

  “Cold?” he murmured.

  “No,” she whispered, tilting her face up.

  It was all the invitation he needed as he placed his mouth softly on hers. His lips were warm and gentle, and Snow’s eyes drifted closed. She responded to his kiss and he deepened it, his mouth pressing against hers with more force. She slipped her arms up around his shoulders and his hold on her waist tightened, lifting her from her feet. Their kiss became urgent, desperate, full of feeling, heating the water around them. As the water became uncomfortably warm, Philip pulled back and looked at her in surprise. Then they both grinned.

  “Maybe we should get out of the water before we turn it into a boiling pot,” he said.

  “Good idea,” she agreed. He took her hand and led her toward the shore. Before stepping out, he hesitated. “Everything okay?” she said.

  He gazed down at her. “What if my sight goes away once I leave the water?” He tried for flippancy, but she heard the tremor in his voice.

  “What if it doesn’t?”

  Philip nodded. “Right. Well, either way I can’t live in the water, so I suppose I’ll have to take my chances.”

  They stepped from the water and Snow picked up the two bath sheets they’d brought out. Philip stepped forward and took them from her. He unfolded one, wrapping it around her, his eyes never leaving her face. Then he used the second to dry himself.

  “Can you still see?” she finally asked.

  He nodded. “I can, but not as clearly as before. You look a bit . . . blurred. I think it’s going away.”

  “Then let’s hurry,” she said, taking his hand and walking quickly toward the castle.

  “Hurry where?”

  “So you can see your castle.”

  Philip stopped, and since they were holding hands, Snow was forced to stop as well. She looked back at him and saw him shaking his head.

  “If it’s going to go away, I want the last thing I see to be your face, not some building.”

  Snow smiled and moved closer to him. She stretched up for a kiss, and Philip happily complied, though he kept his eyes open, watching her.

  Ten minutes later his sight was gone again.

  *****

  Snow sat in her cottage, studying the paper before her. She’d eaten dinner with The Seven and then come home. She’d made a list of what she knew about Katarina and the curse. And the prophecy that she still doubted had anything to do with her. But on the off chance it did, or that she could at least figure out what it all meant, she might be able to help the citizens of Fableton.

  Every day now she’d get up early, hurry and clean the cottage next door, and then run to the castle to spend the day with Philip. His vision only returned if they swam together in the enchanted water. He’d gone alone and still been blind. It seemed to require both of them for his sight to return.

  They spent a lot of time talking. And kissing. Snow smiled. Philip said he didn’t need his vision to kiss her, and he was right. His kisses made her heart thrum and her pulse speed, whether he could see her or not.

  She pulled her attention back to the list. Beneath Katarina’s name, she’d written:

  Jealous

  Bitter

  Vengeful

  Beautiful

  Vain

  Manipulative

  Hugo

  Magic/Spells

  Powerful

  Dangerous

  Married my father (because of his wealth or my name?)

  Killed Philip’s family (?)

  Killed my father (???)

  It wasn’t a list she’d be proud of if it described her, but Katarina would’ve liked it. Beneath “Curse” she’d written:

  Inescapable

  Philip’s sight

  Place of beauty

  No one new for hundreds of years

  Can’t be found

  Created by Katarina

  Magical

  Waterfall (???)

  Time meaningless

  Things/Supplies magically appear

  Beneath “Prophecy” the list was short.

  Skin white as snow (could be my name?)

  Pure heart

  Find Fableton without being shown it

  The key to breaking the curse

  No matter how long she stared at the lists, nothing came to her. There wasn’t a single common thing between the three, not even Katarina because she wasn’t on the prophecy list. She rubbed her head and stood, pacing back and forth.

  Would it be so bad to stay in Fableton? She’d never grow old, and she could be with Philip every day. There wasn’t anyone here
who seemed especially miserable, other than Grouchy who’d be miserable no matter where he was. Fableton was more beautiful than anywhere she’d ever seen, in person or in pictures. She had more friends in The Seven alone than she’d ever had at home.

  She thought of Channy. Her heart ached at the thought of never seeing her best friend again, but she knew Channy would eventually move on and if not forget about her, at least not miss her.

  She flopped down onto her couch. Maybe it would be better just to let things stay as they were. Then she thought about Katarina. Katarina would probably not just let things be as they were. She’d come after Snow if she suspected she were still alive, because she’d know Snow might have the key to break the enchantment. And even if she didn’t, she’d have to live with that threat, possibly forever.

  Also, there was a chance that if the curse weren’t lifted, Katarina might think it wasn’t her, and that someone else was the key. What if she hurt or killed someone else? Snow scoffed. It wasn’t a matter of if but when. She was sure Katarina had hurt others over the years, and she would again. How could Snow let that happen if there was any chance to stop her?

  She walked to the window and looked outside. Staring up at the stars, she thought about time and how meaningless it was here. She remembered Philips words, “I don’t even know where here is.” Snow stood up straight. Fableton was not anywhere near where his kingdom had been. Why? She doubted that even Katarina would have placed it in the middle of North America five-hundred years ago. Was it only here now because Katarina was here? Was it even still where Snow thought it was?

  She looked up at the stars again. They looked the same as they’d looked her whole life from her bedroom window. She’d never studied astrology, so couldn’t name any of the constellations, except for the Big Dipper. It looked the same, in the same position. Nothing was unfamiliar. She figured they were still in the Neru forest.

  She thought about the day she’d tried to leave Fableton, her first day here. She’d run for hours trying to escape, only to return to The Seven’s cottage every time. Why was that? She thought about being unable to see anything without being shown and suddenly an idea came to her. She gasped. Could it be so simple?