Snow
Hunter’s retreating footsteps vibrated through the floor of the ship as it hummed along towards its destination. Snow took a deep breath, her nerves still jangling from their conversation. She’d revealed too much to him. She’d opened up too much.
Was she wrong for thinking she could be so candid with him? It seemed every choice she made was too hasty, too bold, too improvised. All these years in seclusion were meant to be building up to something, but now that she was on her own, she acted too rashly, spoke too quickly, and — maybe worst of all — trusted too easily.
She scrunched her eyes shut and dropped her head to her hands. If Plick was still around he’d want her to be warier of everyone. Not just Hunter — though she could already hear all the things he’d have to say about that little relationship — but Beaver, too. He’d have warned her against getting too chummy with the people on Avuuna. Plick had always been one for caution above all. Better to be paranoid than dead, he’d say.
But how else would they have found out about the rumors zipping through the Empire? That people thought so little of their Queen they believed she could be the arsonist herself?
Plick would have — and did, when he was still alive — told her to stay far away from Zomer City. But then how would she have learned how miserable her people were?
She took a deep breath and let it out, dropping her hands and leaning back to look ahead at the colored points of light in the vast expanse of space. There were things to be learned in breaking the rules. Important things.
Plick had done a good job of teaching her to defend herself with a blaster, teaching her how to spot a liar, but he’d never taught her how to be a leader. He was too focused on keeping her alive and preparing her for the inevitable day when she would face the Queen. There had never been any thought given to what would happen afterward. Everything Snow knew about ruling her people, she’d learned from her mother. And that knowledge mostly consisted of things that were inappropriate for princesses. Not exactly useful when she was trying to stage a coup.
Snow found herself now in a position that neither of her parents envisioned, and for the first time, it occurred to her that she might have to forge her own path instead of relying on the wisdom they’d passed down.
It wasn’t a comforting thought.
A series of beeps sounded from the navigation panel just as Hunter returned with two steaming mugs.
“Looks like we’re close,” he said, glancing toward the flashing lights at the front of the ship. “Should be entering the atmosphere any time now. You ready for this?”
There were so many things ‘this’ could be. She brought the mug of tea to her lips, drinking instead of answering. She swallowed and frowned at the mug.
“What? Did I get it wrong?” Hunter asked. “Lemon, not cream, right?”
Snow took another drink, nodding, studying him over the rim of her mug. “And a sprinkle of sugar,” she said. He’d remembered.
A knot in her chest tightened. There was more to breaking Plick’s rules than just learning things about the Empire. There was this. Companionship.
Hunter smiled, seeming pleased with himself as he drank his own tea and the knot inside her unraveled, a warm contentedness taking its place.
Sure, he was infuriating, but when she looked at Hunter, Snow couldn’t help but feel a certain way. A way she hadn’t felt since she’d been forced to flee the palace under cover of night.
She felt at home.
“If I’m not ready now, I don’t know when I’ll ever be,” she said, dragging her gaze away to the rapidly growing red dot before them. It was a tiny planet, cloaked with a thick reddish atmosphere. She’d never have given it a second thought if Beaver hadn’t told her about it. She just hoped this guy would have some answers for them.
“That’s the spirit,” Hunter teased. Then, more serious, he added, “Don’t worry, Princess. How bad could he be?”
“As long as he’s not a merchant,” she said. “I’ve heard their kind are insufferable.”
Hunter grinned, then rolled his eyes, standing to his full height. “This is how I’m treated for trying to be encouraging?” The navigation panel beeped some more, but before he walked away from her, Hunter bent and placed a kiss on the top of her head. “Buckle in, Princess. It’s time for landing.”
She drained the rest of her tea, telling herself that the flood of heat spreading through her was from the hot beverage, not his absently-placed kiss.
Ureika was the planet’s name, she learned as they landed. It had a smaller permanent population than Avuuna and no major ports or towns to speak of. It seemed exactly the kind of place one would go if they never wanted to be found. Was that the case with their contact?
“This is certainly charming,” Hunter said, scowling at the barren, dust-covered landscape stretched before the ship. “You sure this is the right place?”
Snow shrugged, unbuckling and sliding her new blaster into its holster. “It’s where Beaver said to go. Unless you think he might be misleading me for some reason.” The thought had occurred to her, but until Hunter voiced similar concerns, she was chalking that worry up to latent paranoia.
“I can’t see what they’d have to gain from that,” he said with a sigh. “Alright, I guess we should do this.”
The door to the ship opened, a staircase descending down to the hard-packed surface below. There were no plants or obvious buildings, just unrelenting wind. Snow wrapped her head with the shawl from Avuuna and proceeded with her hand hovering over her blaster. Hunter stayed close on her heels without touching her. She almost wished he would.
The howling winds made it difficult to hear her own thoughts, let alone Hunter’s voice. She managed to read his lips as he asked, “Which way?”
It was a good question. This was the precise location Beaver had given them. She turned in a circle, shielding her eyes with her hand, searching. Rocks and dust, as far as the eye could see, but nothing else.
Had they been tricked? Sent on a wild goose chase so the rebels could swoop in and claim credit for her actions? Or worse; had their contact already been found and dispatched?
She swallowed and set off in a random direction, marching with purpose like she knew exactly where she was going. She made it ten paces before the dust was so thick she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face. She couldn’t see Hunter either. Couldn’t hear anything but the wind whipping around her.
“Hunter?” she called out, coughing as she drew dust into her lungs. “Hunter?” she tried a little louder.
His hand settled on the small of her back and Snow sagged with a smile. The last thing she wanted was to lose him in all of this. She turned to face him, about to suggest they go back to the ship to double-check the coordinates, when the ground collapsed beneath them.
Snow groaned, wincing at the throbbing ache in her head as she pried her eyes open. She blinked, everything around her blurry and gray. At least there was no wind down here, underground. But where had they fallen through? The rock ceiling above her was intact.
She tried to sit up, her body aching from the fall, and found that her hands were stuck. More precisely, they were bound.
This wasn’t an accident then.
“Hunter?” she cried out into the darkness.
“Shh,” came his answer. At least she wasn’t alone.
“What’s going on?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Some kind of trap door, I think. Are you cuffed too?”
“Yeah,” she answered, tugging against the bonds. “Did you see who did this?”
She could hear movement to her side and hoped it was Hunter. “No,” he grunted. “I might be able to bust out of these tho—” He gasped and a flare of white-blue sparks sliced through the blackness.
Snow cried out and lunged toward him, but couldn’t reach him; she wasn’t just bound, she was bound to the wall.
“Shh, I’m okay,” he croaked while she was still pulling on the chain attaching her to the wall. “Don’t try to get out of them, they’ll shock you.” His voice sounded tired and weak. They needed to get out of here before things got worse.
“Do you think it’s the Queen?”
He managed to laugh. “No.”
He sounded completely certain but didn’t offer any explanation. “I think your contact might be more difficult than Beaver anticipated.”
Snow swallowed, a bitter metallic taste in her mouth. Maybe this person didn’t want to be found. Maybe they didn’t want to help her. But she couldn’t let a setback like this stop her. Not now.
“Hello?” she called out.
“Snow! What are you doing?” Hunter hissed in a whisper.
“Hello? I’m sorry we were trespassing. We just wanted to talk to you!”
“Snow, you’re going to get us killed!” Hunter growled.
“If you just take these off, we’ll leave. I promise we won’t tell anyone where you are.” She was through being scared and hiding. That’s all she’d ever done.
“Snow—”
“Snow? Snow White?” another voice interrupted Hunter’s warning. Hushed and nervous. Like a mole given a voice.
“Y-yes,” she said, pulling herself upright, squinting into the darkness. “I was told you knew my father. King Stuart?”
A light blazed before her eyes and Snow blinked away the spots, trying to focus on the person beyond the light. But it was doing its job of effectively blinding her to anything in the dark. She squinted and turned away from the brightness.
“The King… The King…” the man muttered. “Do I know the King? Can I know the King?”
She frowned at his rambling. He sounded unhinged.
Hunter tried to reason with him. “Look, we don’t want trouble, just let us go and—” More sparks flashed and his words turned to an anguished cry before he went silent.
“The Queen… Queen’s always listening. Listening and waiting. Don’t want to talk to the Queen,” their captor said.
“No,” Snow agreed, her heart racing. Her eyes kept flicking over to Hunter, but she couldn’t go to him now. She tried to keep her voice as even as possible, hoping he was alright. “I don’t like the Queen either. I’ve heard you worked for her and was hoping you could tell me a little about that project.”
Her eyes began to adjust and Snow could just make out the hunched frail shape of the man shining a light in her face. He looked old, but it was the kind of age earned by worry and fear, not years. Wispy bits of white hair burst from his scalp and stuck out at odd angles.
“The King… You’re his daughter? Snow White?” he asked in a moment of lucidity. Snow nodded.
“I am. I know the Queen has done terrible things and I’m trying to help.”
He shrank away, shaking his head. “The Queen has ears everywhere. Always listening.”
“I promise I’m not working for her, I don’t know how to prove that to you.”
The man giggled, a manic nervous sound that made the hairs on her arm stand straight up.
“Snow,” Hunter croaked. “He’s out of his mind. There’s no use talking to him.”
“I don’t believe that,” she said, gritting her teeth. How could he give up so easily?
What other option did they have anyway?
“The King likes riddles,” the man said like he was remembering something from a different lifetime.
“Yes!” Snow said, leaning toward him more. “Yes, he does,” she ignored the pang in her heart that came from referring to him in the present tense. “He taught me all kinds of riddles.”
The man giggled again. “Riddles are good. Solve my riddle and we talk.”
“And if she doesn’t?” Hunter asked, half-slumped over. She couldn’t make out his eyes even in the spotlight, but it looked like the fall and shocks had sapped all his strength. She’d never seen him look so limp and helpless. If nothing else, she had to get them out of here for his sake.
“We don’t,” their captor said with another hair-raising giggle. That’s when Snow saw a blaster — her blaster — in his other hand, pointed at them both.
“Snow you—”
“Okay,” she said quickly, before Hunter could try to talk her out of it. She just couldn’t look at him because she knew his look of betrayal would make her hesitate.
“The beginning of the end, the end of time and space. Needed for everything and surrounding every place.”
“It was nice knowing you, Princess,” said Hunter.
“Shush,” she spat at him, repeating the lines to herself. Thinking it through, she wasn’t on her knees in this cold underground prison. She was on her father’s lap, his eyes twinkling as he toyed with the sweet that would be her prize. She may have been a princess, but that didn’t mean she was given everything she wanted without a little work. And those candies were always so much sweeter when she’d earned them.
Snow smiled. “E,” she said. “The answer is ‘e.’”
The man giggled again and holstered the blaster at the same time their handcuffs released. Snow fell forward, catching herself on her freed hands.
The stranger moved the spotlight, lighting up the whole cave instead of blinding her. Snow immediately scrambled to Hunter’s side. He was pale and clammy, but when his eyes focused on her he smiled.
“Didn’t know you had it in you.”
“So little faith in me,” she teased. She stood and extended her hand toward him. “Can you walk?”
“I’m not an invalid,” he groused. “And this is far from my first torture.”
Before she could stop to think about that little gem, the grinning, giggling madman was leading them down the tunnel.