Chapter 1

D eep in the Wyldwood Forest of the Enchanted Woodlands, the first twitter of a morning bird sang out. A blue bird, by the sound of it. Its happy song echoed through the woodlands. A breeze rustled the treetops and whispered past, tickling her skin and lifting her hair. The first stirrings of the woodland creatures were beginning. And deep in the forest, a brook babbled its way over rocks and logs winding its way northeast to spill into Dunmeade Bay.

Snow White sensed all of this as she sat cross-legged, her hands on her knees, on the moss-covered ground, her back against the ancient oak tree, her eyes closed. She was attuned to the forest and its magical creatures around her. The energy thrummed through her, singing through her veins. It was peaceful and joyful all at once.

The flapping of delicate wings came close to her face and she remained still. A smile wanted to erupt, but she managed to keep it at bay as the fluttering buzzed her once again. Another buzz.

This time, Snow cracked open an eye. She caught a glimpse of the gossamer wings fluttering so fast, it was an iridescent blur. The creature was so quick, it was a tiny body zipping back and forth.

In the heart of our enchanted glade so bright, Snow White, a vision in the morning's light.

The high-pitched voice lilted through her mind. She smiled and opened her eyes all the way to see the forest sprite dancing in front of her vision. She held up her hand, palm flat, and the tiny thing landed. Her bare feet were light as she alighted.

"Good morning, Annilen," Snow said.

The forest sprite was one of her first friends when she came to the Wyldwood. She was barely six inches tall, with long, flowing golden hair, bright blue eyes and coppery skin that sparkled in the morning sun. She had a tiny, pert nose, high cheekbones, wide lips. Her wings, both upper and lower, were delicate, catching all the colors of the rainbow. Her outfit was formfitting, the leaf skirt hitting her above the knees. She was barefoot, as most sprites were.

"Good morning, my lady." She gave a low curtsy in the palm of her hand.

Snow stretched out her long legs. After sitting cross-legged for so long, they had started to cramp. She leaned against the old oak, who gave a bit of a resigned sigh. She craned her neck to look up at the branches and leaves far overhead.

"Sorry, old friend, but I have to rest my back."

As you wish, my lady, the oak replied. The oak was named Faradill. He stood in this forest for over a hundred years, but even at that age he was still one of the youngest trees.

In her palm, Annilen bounced back and forth from one foot to the other. "Snow, are we going to walk today?"

"Don't we walk every day?" she asked, in return.

"It's just that…with the Springtide festival…"

"Oh, the bloody moon! I forgot!"

Snow leapt to her feet so quickly, it jarred Annilen. She fluttered away, hovering near her head. Before she dashed off, she turned to Faradill and placed her palm flat on the trunk.

"Bless this tree with life and roots that go deep," she whispered, reciting the blessing to the tree for keeping her safe.

"As in your shade we find solace and keep," Annilen added.

Faradill's voice rumbled, deep and low, through her mind. So, mote it be.

And then Snow was off, picking up her skirts and hurrying through the forest back to her home. She leapt over fallen logs. She knew this forest better than anyone. Knew where the trail was, even though most travelers would not. Knew where she would find the yarrow root or bloodroot or mandrake or the monkeyflower. Annilen kept pace with her, fluttering close to her head.

"You don't…have to…come with me," Snow panted as her breath see-sawed in and out of her.

"I do," Annilen said, as she flew next to her. Flying gave her an advantage. Flying meant she was never out of breath.

Snow was a bit envious of that. When she realized what the sprite said, she halted. Her chest rose and fell with every heaving breath.

"Wait," Snow said. "Did Elator send you?"

Elator was her woodland elf father, though that wasn't the right term. He was more of a father figure, a protector, and the one who had raised her from the time she was eight and exiled from her own castle. Yirrie was his wife who was giddy at the prospect of raising a human child. They took her in without question, gave her a home, loved her, raised her, and treated her as though she were one of their own.

Though she wasn't. The only thing she had left of her royal life was a necklace she wore day and night. It was a pendant with the royal symbol of the Mystic Vale—a rose and crown.

Annilen fluttered around her head in an agitated state. "Not exactly."

Snow put her hands on her hips, tipping her head to one side in question. "Then who did?"

When the sprite failed to answer, Snow held out her hand in an invitation for her to land. Heaving a sigh, Annilen settled in her palm, her wings coming to rest behind her and drooping.

"It was Yirrie."

Snow frowned. That wasn't good. "Because…?"

"Because you forgot about your fitting."

Snow rolled her eyes to the heavens. She had forgotten about that, too. "Hurry on ahead. Tell her I'm on my way and will be there soon."

Annilen dipped a little curtsy. "Yes, my lady."

Now that Annilen was headed to Yirrie with her message, she took her time walking back to the village.

She hadn't meant to spend so much time in the forest that morning, but she was drawn to it. Unable to sleep, with the moon bright and beckoning, Snow left her bed, climbed out the window and made her way into the forest. The earth, the wind, the sky all called to her. Even the nocturnal animals sensed her and spoke to her as she walked through the bracken. She was safe here, she knew. Not even Seraphina's evil could reach here.

And so, she found her way to the foot of Faradill, perched on the forest floor, and attuned herself to the world around her. When the sun started to peek over the horizon, she should have headed home. But the world around her called to her, calmed her, made her feel as though she were a part of it. She had to be a part of it. And she was unable to stop her feet from carrying her farther and farther away from the elven village.

The Wyldwood Forest was populated with all sorts of mystical and magical creatures. From the forest sprites, to the tiny pixies that made their beds within the confines of flower petals, to the wisps that were nothing more than dances of light in the night, to even the wild endangered unicorns. They greeted her as she made her way.

Stepping over a fallen log, a mournful sound echoed through the trees. She halted, her gaze narrowing as she tried to pinpoint where it came from. It sounded again and then a shout which sounded like a man's voice.

Clutching her skirts in her hands, she ran toward the sound and opened her senses. Something was in trouble, the baleful sound vibrating through her and telling her she was headed in the right direction.

Through the trees, she saw the glint of morning sun off the spiral horn of a unicorn. Around the unicorn's neck, a rope yanked by a tall, brute of a man. The unicorn's eyes rolled back as it jerked its head, stomping its hooves and trying to pull away.

Snow stopped, releasing her skirts. She clenched her fists at her sides and closed her eyes, connecting to the nature around her, asking the plants for help.

A thick ivy unwound itself from the forest floor and moved toward the man, wrapping around his legs. Another vine glided down from the trees to slide around his upper torso. And a snake slithered from the underbrush to hiss at him.

He cried out, dropping the rope, his eyes wide with fear as he looked down at his bindings. Snow opened her eyes, satisfied with her handiwork. She took slow methodical steps toward the man who had a thick beard, a wide feral face, dressed as a hunter. She knew these types. Sometimes, they would wander into the forest looking to hunt the creatures that inhabited it. He saw her at last, his terrified gaze landing on her.

"Help me!" he said.

"And why should I do that?" She reached the unicorn and slipped off the rope from around its neck. The horse nuzzled her in thanks.

He was going to steal my horn, the lilting voice said in her mind.

And he was going to kill you for it, she said. She cut a glance back to the man.

"You are a hunter, aren't you?"

He didn't answer as he struggled against the vines and the ivy, trying to free himself while keeping a watchful eye on the snake at his feet. The snake that had grown in size and lifted its head up to meet his gaze. He didn't have to answer because she already knew.

"P-please, miss. Will you help me?"

What do you think? Shall I release him? she asked.

Its gaze landed on the man, still struggling. If he promises to never return, then yes.

She looked back to the hunter, brushing a hand down the animal's neck. The hair was soft under her palm. "Will you promise to leave this forest and never return?"

"Y-yes! I promise!"

She continued to brush the animal, trying to sense if the man told the truth or if he lied to escape his bonds.

"Can I trust your word?" Snow asked.

"Yes! You have my word."

She gave a quick nod. "Very well."

With a twitch of her hand, she released him. The vines and ivy retreated. The snake returned to its normal size and slithered away.

"Now, be gone and warn your fellow hunters this forest is not a hunting ground," she said.

He nodded as he stumbled backward, tripping over a fallen log before turning and running. She stood with the unicorn, listening to his footsteps crashing through the forest as he headed away from them.

"You're safe now," she said.

Thank you, my lady.

The unicorn nuzzled her neck making her giggle. "I must go." She patted its nose in farewell.

It gave one last snort as it trotted away from her through the forest. It wasn't the first time she had run off hunters. She doubted it would be the last. Those who hunted unicorns, though, were the worst ones. They would do anything for the mystical beast's spiral horn. There were very few of them left in this forest. She felt it was her duty to protect them.

Just like her duty was to be fitted for her Springtide gown. With a sigh, she hurried through the forest to home.