Chapter 17

R oderick awoke the following morning when his horse nudged him with her nose, then snorted at him. The stars were gone, replaced by the morning sun. Birds sang their happy tunes high atop the trees and the stream the lady mentioned rippled over rocks in a soothing trickle that sent him right to sleep.

Smiling, he patted the horse's nose.

"All right, old girl. I'm awake. And you're right. We should be going."

He had a difficult time not thinking about the girl in the forest. There was something special about her, something that told him that though she was human, she was not all she appeared to be. It was difficult to ignore the earthy scent of magic emanating from her. He wondered if she realized how intoxicating that was.

In all his years, he had never met another elemental, though he certainly knew there were others like him. His parents, may they rest in peace, did not possess the magic as he did.

But the girl did. The moment he stepped down from the saddle and approached her, he sensed it. She had a fire deep within her. When she said she was the protector of the forest, he believed her.

What baffled him the most was that she was with the elven boy who she called Ardan. He had his enchanted blade. How had the two of them come to be in each other's presence? They didn't seem as though they were a couple. In fact, she seemed more irritated with him than anything. Ardan, other the other hand, was enamored with her.

Even without his magical senses, Roderick saw that about the elf.

She was lovely with red lips and moonlight pale skin. It was difficult to see in the darkness, but he guessed her hair was black as a raven. She had high cheekbones and a heart-shaped face with a chin that came to a point. He admired how she clenched her long, slender fingers into a fist, as though she meant to do him harm if he stepped out of line. The thought made him smile. He regretted not getting the girl's name.

The horse nudged him again, breaking him free of his ruminations. He patted her nose again and then went to the saddle bag, reaching in for an apple.

"I know we should be going," he said as the horse munched away. "But I can't stop thinking about that girl."

A snorted response, which made him chuckle. He took up the reins and led her away from the stream, heading north and to Seraphina's castle to deliver the queen's dagger.

It was a long ride through the Mystic Vale northward. He passed through several small villages, all of which seemed to have no joy about them. The tension was high in each of them. He stopped at a local inn in the village of Westfall for a midday meal and was welcomed by the innkeeper. From him, Roderick learned why there appeared to be no happiness in these villages. Seraphina's rule was one of suppression. She taxed them to the point of poverty.

The innkeeper told him the story of the missing princess. That she mysteriously disappeared after the king died under suspicious circumstances and Seraphina proclaimed herself queen.

"What happened to the princess?" he asked.

The innkeeper shrugged. "No one knows."

After he finished his meal and threw some gold coins on the table, he continued his journey.

He did not arrive at the castle until the sun had long set. Rather than ride up to the castle gates, he dismounted and walked the rest of the way, leading his horse by the reins. There were guards posted outside the door, which he expected. He did not expect the guards standing along the wall pointing arrows at him ready to shoot him if he made a wrong move. He gave them a cursory glance as he approached the outer wall, then fixed his gaze on the two flanking the open portcullis.

One guard stepped forward, holding out a hand to stop him from advancing further.

"State your name and your business here," the guard said.

"Roderick of Bridgefort. I come at the behest of your queen to hand deliver the item she requested."

"What is this requested item?" the guard asked.

"She commissioned a special blade from me. I'm a blacksmith," he replied. He preferred not to say, but then he decided he wouldn't get very far if he didn't.

"Wait here," the guard said.

He disappeared through the portcullis, leaving Roderick standing there in the breezy night air with his horse and the other guard staring him down. Above him, the rest of them kept their arrows nocked against their bows, ready to fire.

Finally, the guard returned with another man who was taller. He wore a red and white cloak over his armor with the sigil of a rose and crown along the back.

"I am Erick, Captain of the Guard. Give me the weapon and I will deliver it to the queen." He held out his hand and waited.

Roderick glanced from the man's open hand up to his face, giving him a faint smile. "I'm afraid I can't do that. I was asked to personally deliver it to the queen."

"Asked by whom?" demanded the captain.

"The messenger she sent to me to commission the blade a week ago."

The captain stared at him as though he had grown a second head. "I know of no such messenger."

"Then perhaps you should ask your queen about that," Roderick said, refusing to back down.

"Perhaps I will." He dropped his hand. "Come with me. We will stable your horse while you meet with the queen." He gave a nod to the other guard, who reached for the reins.

Before he led the horse away, Roderick reached into the saddle bag and brought out the dagger which was sheathed in a leather scabbard and wrapped in a thick cloth. The captain of the guard eyed the weapon with interest.

"Don't worry," Roderick said. "This is the weapon she commissioned."

Erick said nothing as he motioned for Roderick to follow him. He led him through the portcullis and across the bailey. They entered the main keep, where the captain led him to a large room hosting one throne. Torches lined the walls every few feet. Large braziers burned bright in each corner, giving the room a warm glow. Even so, the room was less than inviting.

"Wait here," he ordered.

Then he was gone, leaving Roderick to stand there alone in the middle of the room feeling awkward. It wasn't long before he returned, a woman following him.

When she came into view, he recognized her immediately. This was the messenger who came to his forge and commissioned the enchanted blade. She gave him a broad smile as she passed by him and headed right for the throne, her black gown trailing after her and the heady scent of peonies. The captain remained standing behind him, his feet shoulder-width apart and his hands clasped in front of him.

She perched on the edge of the throne, leaning on one of the arm rests. There was a deep glint of something wicked in her eyes that gave Roderick a feeling of unease.

"Master blacksmith," she said, her voice ringing out in the cavernous room. She waved him closer. "Please approach and show me the dagger you forged."

He remained where he was. "Where is the queen?"

The laugh bubbled up her throat. "I am the queen."

He stared at her, long and hard and realized what a fool he'd been. The messenger who came to him in this forge was the queen.

"Your majesty, he claims a messenger commissioned the blade from him a week ago," the captain said.

"A messenger did," she confirmed. "That messenger was me. Come, master blacksmith, and show me this weapon."

With a cautious glance over his shoulder to the captain of the guard, he unwrapped the dagger in the leather sheath. Erick rested his hand on the pommel of his sword, ready to wield it should he make any threatening moves.

Roderick stepped closer to the queen and handed it over. She took it, unsheathing it with a flourish and holding it up into the flickering light. Rainbow iridescence flickered up and down the steel, giving it that ethereal glow of enchantment. Excitement lit her eyes as she gazed at it, moving it to and fro with the flick of her wrist.

"This is a magnificent blade," she said, her voice full of admiration.

"Thank you, your majesty."

"You delivered as promised. We must toast this momentous occasion."

With a wave of her free hand, a table appeared next to her. On the table, was a silver ewer and two silver goblets. She poured from the ewer a pale liquid he assumed was mead. She picked up one of the goblets and extended it to him. He eyed the dagger still in her other hand and hesitated.

She chuckled. "I see the fear in your eyes. Do not worry, sir, for I do not intend to stab you with your own blade. I merely wish to offer a toast."

He stepped forward and took the goblet. She replaced the blade back into its sheath, then picked up the second goblet. She tapped hers against his and then drank. Though he was still unsure, he drank. It was sweet, leaving a strange after taste on his tongue.

She grinned, taking the goblet away from him and placed it back on the table.

"How do you like my apple cider?" she asked. "It's an old family recipe I brewed myself."

He didn't answer as she waved her hand, making the ewer and cups disappear. Then she motioned to Erick behind him. He stepped forward with a heavy purse in his hands and walked it to the queen. She took it from him and placed it in her lap. The captain remained by the queen's side. Roderick eyed the purse heavy with coin.

"I promised you five thousand gold coins." She rested her hand on the purse in a protective gesture.

"You did, your majesty."

"And I will give it to you when you do something else for me."

Unease flickered through him. "That was not part of the deal. The deal was I forge the blade, which I did, and hand deliver it to you, which I also did."

"Yes, and a fine job of it you did." She gave him a vicious smile. "But there is something else I require. A certain task. If you agree, then you will receive this," she patted the round purse of coins in her lap, "and an additional five thousand gold."

His mind went blank, a whirlwind of confusion swirling inside him as he tried to make sense of her request and her offer.

"What sort of task?" he asked.

She extended the sheathed blade to the captain, who took it. He remained where he was, holding it as though waiting for her command. A flicker of fear went through Roderick as he watched the captain, wondering if he was about to be stabbed with his own dagger.

But surely not. She said she wanted him to perform a task. Her wicked smile widened.

"There is a woman living in the Wyldwood Forest. Hair black as ebony. Lips red as the rose. Skin white as snow." Even as she said it, she rolled her eyes at the description, as though it pained her to speak the words aloud. "Her name is Snow White."

With the description, the image of the girl he met in the forest immediately sprang to mind. He was certain she was the one he met the previous night as he traversed the forest. He stood ramrod straight, his nerves jangling and his heart pounding a wild beat.

"She is my sworn enemy," the queen continued, "and a threat to the crown. My crown. She must be dealt with."

Again, Roderick eyed the dagger as the captain turned it over in his hand, the hilt toward him. Understanding struck him. If the queen wanted him to deal with Snow White, there was only one outcome. But he waited patiently for her to continue with her request.

"I want you to kill her. Cut out her heart with this dagger," she waved toward it in the captain's hands, "and bring it to me."

Then she placed her hand palm upward. A flicker of red smoke plumed in her palm and then was replaced with a wood box. The emblem on the top was that of a rose and crown, the royal sigil of the Mystic Vale.

"Place her heart in this box. It's enchanted and will tell me if the heart you bring me belongs to Snow White."

Erick reached for the box, holding it in one hand and the dagger in the other. He walked to Roderick and extended both to him. Roderick eyed them with disbelief. How was he supposed to kill the beautiful girl in the forest by cutting out her heart? And what sort of callous queen was this Seraphina? What had Snow White done to deserve such a fate?

"Do you agree?" she asked.

"If I refuse?"

She chuckled, a malevolent laugh deep in her throat. "If you refuse, then you will be placed in my dungeon for the rest of your days." She rose from the throne then, unfolding her long, slender body in a fluid motion, and walked toward him. "I should tell you the cider you drank was poison. A slow-acting poison. If you fail to kill Snow White, if you betray me in any way, you will fall into a long, eternal slumber."

Questions arose in his mind. Like how the queen would know if he betrayed her.

As if hearing his thoughts, she added, "And I will know. Bring me her heart, and I will give you the antidote. Fail, and the sleeping curse will take you. You have a fortnight to accomplish this task. A fortnight before the poison takes hold and plunges you into a deep, everlasting sleeping curse."

She must have spies within the forest itself. That or she intended to use her wicked magic to make sure he carried out her demand.

"So, what's it to be, blacksmith? Do you agree to do this task for me?"

If he refused, he would never leave this castle. If he agreed, he would have to destroy a beautiful young woman. His choice was clear. He reached for the box and the dagger.

"I agree, your majesty."