The Dwarf and the Twins Page 4

  “Thank you,” she said. The children ran off with his meal, but the happiness on their faces fed a part of his soul he hadn't even known had been starving.

  Rose returned home whistling.

  “I've made a new friend.” She told her mother and sister all about the bear. Her mother fussed — again — worried the animal might harm them, but Rose managed to calm her.

  The next day, she went to the place where she had left the bear, taking him a basket of blueberries. After all, she had promised. Still, it surprised her to find him waiting for her. He smirked like a human and ate the berries daintily as if he were a nobleman, not an animal. Someone must have taught this bear some manners. They spent the afternoon together. To her surprise, Rose found herself enjoying his company.

  Over the next days, weeks, months, they became good friends. Rose provided meat for Bear, and he showed her the best places to pick berries or steal honey. She told him stories about the time when she was young. He allowed her to ride on his back or sleep with his belly for a cushion. Together they hid when the giant eagle came in sight. Instinctively, they feared the uncommonly huge bird.

  Every day, Bear walked to the edge of the forest to watch the miners change shift. Every day, Rose accompanied him. Something was eating at him, but she wasn't sure what it was.

  In the mornings, she found him stuffing himself with food. Once, she was early enough to see Martin pile it in front of Bear.

  “You're too thin. Winter is coming faster than you might think. If you don't eat more, you'll starve.” He emptied a second basket with fish. “I never meant to kill you. You're only supposed to live without luxury.”

  Bear dug in wordlessly, and Rose waited until Martin had left before she approached Bear. She put her hands on her hips.

  “I knew there is more to you than meets the eye. So, my godfather brings you food because he wants to teach you a lesson. Is it possible that you're not really a bear?”

  Bear winked at her. Then he indicated she should pack the rest of the fish. Surprised, Rose noticed he had hardly eaten. She bundled up the leftovers and followed Bear to the edge of the forest. A woman with two small children struggled to push a heavy cart toward the nearby village. Bear nudged Rose. She looked at him, then at the small family.

  “Am I supposed to give the fish to them?”

  Bear nodded. Rose ran, dumped the content of her bag into the woman's cart, and returned to Bear before the bewildered family uttered a single word. From that day on, they always took the food Martin provided to the starving people. More than once, they had to hide from the king's patrols. Once, Bear saved Rose by jumping out of the bushes and roaring at the soldiers. Rose laughed herself silly when she saw wet patches on their pants as they ran. But she knew they'd be back. Next time, they wouldn't be scared off this easily. She and Bear became even more careful.

  Summer slowly faded, and they had less time to roam the forest because the girls had to get the harvest in. Bear proved to be an invaluable help. He carried the heavy baskets with apples, pears, cherries, and nuts, the bundles of edible roots, and the timber they'd need to keep the fire going all winter. With his help, the girls finished stocking their winter supplies earlier than they had thought possible.

  “Let's go fishing.” Rose's breath condensed in the cool morning air. “The salmon have been returning for a while. Maybe we'll catch a straggler.”

  Snow and Bear followed her to the biggest river in the forest. When the salmon returned, they always swam up its wide arm. The trees' leaves flamed in a red-golden glory as if trying to remind Rose and Bear that they wouldn't be gone forever. As they approached the bank, they heard someone swear.

  Martin stood knee-deep in the water, waving his arms about. Rose frowned and wondered, but Snow understood his ailment immediately.

  “He's got his beard tangled in his fishing line.” She slid down the slope and splashed into the water. Rose and Bear followed her with more care. They met her on the bank where she set down the bedraggled man.

  Bear growled. Rose put a hand on his back to calm him, but Martin only glared at Bear.

  “I meant to catch you some fish. You need to fatten up before winter. Has no one ever bothered to teach you anything about nature?”

  “You can talk to Bear?” Rose looked from her friend to Martin and back. “Can you teach me?”

  Martin ignored her. Bear just growled again and sat.

  “I know my beard is tangled. I'm not blind.” Martin tried to pull the strands of his beard from the knotted fishing line. Snow reached out and put her hand on his.

  “Let us do it. Our fingers are better suited to this sort of fiddling.”

  Martin sighed, let his hands sink, and allowed the girls to work on the tangle.

  “I want to learn to talk to Bear,” Rose insisted.

  “Even if I wanted to, it's not something I can teach. It came naturally. I understand all animals — and trees, if you need to know.” Martin scowled at Rose.

  Hiding her envy, she bent her head and concentrated on the task at hand. It didn't take them long to free most of the brown locks, but the lower third proved to be more difficult. They tried and tried, but the final tangle wouldn't come undone. Finally, Rose sighed impatiently.

  “I've had enough.” She pulled out her hunting knife and cut the beard just above the final knot.

  I stare at Rose like an idiot. She has cut my beard. How is that possible? I tried so often without success. Before I can say something, the world around me twists. I feel magic drain from my body, sucked away by an unknown force. At the same time, I feel as if I'm flying, the wind under my outstretched wings, searching for something important. I scream — words, insults, anything. But I'm not myself; someone else is there in my mind with me. A stranger that's somehow familiar. His insults leave my mouth, but his hate is not aimed at the girls. I'm his target. My heart races, blood roars in my ears, and sweat clings to my body. Frightened like never before, I fight to extract my thoughts from the other's. Blue sky, pain, my beard, the bear … all whirls in a gigantic maelstrom. The stranger screeches like a hawk, but I know he is human like me. I slash out, attack, but my knife only sinks into soft, brown fur. For a split second, I see clearly. If the prince hadn't caught my blade with his shoulder, I might have hurt the girls in my rage. He stands between them and me and growls. I feel the stranger leave my mind as Bear's paw shoots toward my head. My world turns black before it hits.

  The king in his eagle disguise struggled to stay airborne. The bastard had attacked him! He had crept into the king's mind and twisted his thoughts. How dare he? And how had he done it? He had nearly succeeded in causing him to crash. Landing on a rocky outcrop of the mountain that held his mines, the king looked around. A bird's eyes were so much better than a human's. He would have to make the fairy turn his human vision into that of an eagle next time.

  A couple of mice flitted through the grass at the mountain's foot and a squirrel raced up a tree trunk to flee a hunting fox. The king jerked his head around. He was looking for something else. With the attack, his long-time foe had made the biggest mistake ever. He had shown him where he was. Through his enemy's own eyes, he had seen the merrily bubbling rapids of a river. All the king had to do was to find the place, dive down, and kill. He'd get his son back and everything would be fine forever.

  There. Something blinked in the distance. It must be the surface of the river that meandered through the forest. He opened his wings and let the current carry him toward the sparkling snake. Anticipation made his blood roar. He screeched his coming triumph into the air as he sped toward his goal.

  I float in and out of blackness and Snow's sweet face is always there. I taste her name on my lips and smile.

  “I'm here,” she says. “I will not leave.”

  Her hands are callused, but softer than the down feather bed I am resting on. I force my eyes to focus, but it costs more strength than I currently have.

  “He's coming.” My voice is so low, I
marvel that she catches it.

  “We are well prepared. We've got the shed filled with food, and logs piled all the way along the cave's front wall.” Her smile is meant to soothe me, but I'm distressed. Winter isn't what I mean. I try again.

  “The bird.” Why is breathing so hard? “The bird wants to kill me.” I close my eyes. As I drift toward the black sea again, a parting thought surfaces.

  “Find the fairy. She can help.” I drown, not even sure she heard.

  Snow sat on the rim of her bed, her eyes sore from unshed tears. Martin turned fitfully and moaned, ripping her heart apart. It would be unfair to lose him now that they finally had become friends. Would she never get a chance to show him her feelings?

  “I took care of Bear's wound. It's a clean cut. It should heal without problems.” Rose settled on a stool beside her. “How is Martin? Has he woken yet?”

  “He thinks a bird is out to kill him and wants to beg a fairy for help.” Snow wiped her eyes. “He's so hot he surely has a fever.”

  “His words don't necessarily mean he's delirious.” Rose scratched her head. “Bear and I have seen a gigantic eagle circle over the big river. You've never seen the like.”

  Snows eyes widened. “You think Martin might have had a vision?”

  Rose shrugged. “How am I to know? You're the expert.”

  “But I can't leave to look for a fairy. What if he wakes and finds me gone?” Snow twisted her apron. “I wouldn't even know where to start looking.”

  “Wait until he wakes and ask him.” Rose was ever practical. Snow tried to smile, but couldn't. When it was time for bed, everyone retired. Soon, only the dim glow of the fireplace illuminated Snow's vigil at her friend's side.

  Several hours later, Martin's eyelids fluttered. Snow, who had rested at the foot of his bed, sat up to see if he would fully wake.

  “Water:” His voice was still very low. She hurried to hand him some cold tea she had sweetened with honey. Bear had brought the sweet treat a while back. Now it would help Martin to regain his strength. He drank greedily. When he had quenched his thirst, he lay back and sighed.

  “Never had anything so good in my life.”

  Snow felt the telltale heat on her face and was glad for the room's twilight. Her heart sang when she realized he felt better. Maybe he was strong enough to explain.

  “Do you remember asking me to look for a fairy?”

  Martin smiled.

  “I do. It might sound silly, but I got my beard from a fairy. Maybe a fairy can sort out my problem, or at least explain what happened at the river.” He spoke haltingly, fighting for air every few words.

  “Where shall I start looking?” Snow slipped from the bed and knelt beside its head with her face close to him. His breathing tickled her cheek as he spoke.

  “I do not know. I've been searching for her for years without success.”

  He looked so sad, it made Snow decide on the spot.

  “I will find her for you. Mother, Rose and Bear will be here for you.” With her heart racing, she kissed his cheek. A tingle spread through her body. To hide her blush, she got up and fetched her shawl. Before she left, she wrote a short note for her mother. She knew Adele would never let her go if she woke her.

  Outside, she allowed her eyes to adjust to the darkness. The first breath of winter caressed the trees and turned her exhalation to fog. In a gesture of farewell, she ran her fingers over one of the last of the white roses. It broke off and fell at her feet, glowing softly. Snow bent to pick it up.

  “Thank you,” she whispered to the plant.

  It was hard to leave the well-known behind, even harder to walk away from the man she loved. But if finding the fairy would help him, she'd walk to the end of the world and back. Rose in hand, she set out into a realm her sister knew much better.

  First, she followed the familiar brook where there was more light to see the path, but she soon noticed that the rose in her hand dimmed the further she wandered.

  Could it be an indicator? She turned and took a path leading partly back and under the tree's canopy. The rose's light grew a little stronger. Snow smiled. My beloved rose, she thought. This is a most remarkable gift. With confidence filling her heart, she followed the rose's guidance.

  The fairy wiped vomit from her face and rinsed her mouth before she returned to her bed. “Why, oh why, did I let that man talk me into delaying that christening wish?” She spoke to no one in particular; it just felt good to hear a voice. She pulled her cover to her nose and closed her eyes. For the moment, she felt better.

  Thump, thump, thump.

  Quiet but distinct footsteps were approaching her home. Was it Martin again? She sighed and left the warmth of her duvet to look out of the window. No, this time it was a beautiful, golden-haired girl with a glowing white rose in her hands. Before returning to her bed, the fairy closed her eyes and poured some more magic into the spell hiding her house. She didn't feel up to visitors at all.

  The footsteps stayed, moving around her house, as if the girl knew there had to be something.

  “If I can't see anything, it's probably invisible.” The girl's voice drifted through the thin walls of the fairy's house. It was melodious like a bird concert in spring. “Maybe it helps if I close my eyes.”

  The fairy groaned. The girl was brighter than was good for her. She pulled her cover over her head and hoped against all odds that the girl would not find her. The girl knocked at the door, but the fairy ignored it. Maybe the girl would leave if no one opened.

  “Please, Madame Fairy, I need your help.” Her voice was so gentle and pleading, it broke the fairy's heart not to answer. “I am not here for myself. Please, you're the only one who can help.”

  “Go away. I'm not at home.”

  “But Martin will die if you don't come.”

  The fairy sat up with a jerk. Martin had sent the girl? How had he known that only girls could find her? Reluctantly, she left her bed, donned a bathrobe, and opened the door.

  “Come in if you must.” She returned to her bed, the only warm place in the hut.

  The girl entered and looked around. Then her gaze focused on the fairy, and her expression changed from curiosity to worry.

  “You look just as awful as Martin.” She hurried over, put the glowing rose on the bedside table and helped the fairy to lie down again. “Aren't you cold? Shall I start a fire?”

  The fairy nodded weakly: The girl applied herself to the task with fervor. The fairy watched her for a while.

  “What's your name, girl?”

  “Shouldn't you know that?” The girl looked at her and smiled. “It's Snow White, but everybody calls me Snow.”

  “And why would Martin send you to me insisting it's urgent, but you won't tell me what's wrong?” The fairy felt cantankerous. Martin was a sore spot on her soul already.

  “He grew mad like a rabid fox and dropped unconscious. We don't know what to do.”

  “Stop cutting his beard. I felt the backlash of his magic. Why do you think I'm in bed?” The fairy frowned at the girl who was crouched in front of the fireplace. “Why are you here anyway?”

  “I fear for his life.” The fire began spreading warmth throughout the hut. The girl pulled a stool over to sit beside the bed. “I want you to help him.”

  “Why do you care? He's an ugly dwarf.” The fairy frowned and tried to look forbidding, which was easy with her green tinged skin and the moving shadows under her eyes.

  The girl blushed and didn't answer.

  “Come on, spit it out. Why have you come? It would be less bother to dig a grave.”

  The girl paled so much, she resembled her namesake.

  “I don't want him to die. I love him.”

  The fairy chuckled. The chuckle grew and intensified, until bright laughter shook the fairy's frail frame.

  “He's way too old for you.”

  “I don't care.”

  “And too small.”

  Snow snorted.

  “And the s
pell on him isn't broken yet.” The fairy sat up straighter, wiping away some tears. She felt a lot better already. Laughing truly was the best medicine.

  “You placed the spell on him?” Snow's eyebrows shot up.

  “I allowed him to grow a beard filled with magic. He can use it for anything.”

  “Anything?”

  “Anything he wants. No restrictions. Dangerous bit of magic that, but I thought he could handle it when I gave it to him.”

  Snow cocked her head.

  “So what went wrong?”

  It was the fairy's turn to blush.

  “The late king begged me to delay my christening wish for his younger son. Fool that I was, I agreed. I hadn't considered that innocent babes always change.” She sank back into her cushions. “The young prince summoned me the day his father was buried.”

  “Did he want his father back?” Snow was glued to the fairy's lips.

  “No, and it wouldn't have been in my power to grant that anyway. He wanted me to help him secure his kingdom against all foes. Little did I know his wish was a carte blanche. He's been bugging me with new wishes against those he perceives as a threat.”

  “Do you have to fulfill them if they aren't truly threats, objectively speaking?” Snow frowned.

  “I would break my Fairy Godmother Contract and lose my life if I didn't. I have to fulfill his wishes regardless of how crazy they are until he believes his kingdom is safe.”

  “So, what's that got to do with Martin?”

  “Ever heard of interferences?” the fairy snapped.

  Snow shook her head.

  “I granted both boys the ability to change things big scale. Both channel their power through me, although Martin doesn't know it. When you cut his beard, the two currents of magic overlapped and lashed out uncontrollably. The backlash nearly killed me.” The fairy closed her eyes. “There's nothing I can do to help you. You'll just have to make sure that you don't cut off any more of his beard. At least I made sure he can't do it himself. Oh no.” The fairy vanished with a pop.