Red Snow

Part 4

"HE'S GOING TO die," says Eugene. His great aqua length is coiled around the branch of the biggest apple tree, which he is using to rub off his skin.

The wind whistles through the forest, whipping up the snow; tiny swords of ice lance into her cheeks. Daphne jogs in place, pulling her wool cap down further, then stuffs her hands into pockets. "You've got to help me. The Cupboard gave me gruel. It won't be long until Claudia knows I've been bad."

"The best way I can help you is by strangling him for you. I'll make it fast. Why can you not see that Claudia will kill both of you?"

"I will heal him and help him escape before she gets here. She never comes right after the gruel. She likes for me to suffer a while."

"I think you've been bamboozled by a rugged jawline and a strapping torso. I remember when I had those. Now all I have is six-feet of dry, scaly skin and a rabbit-shaped paunch. What I would give to be human again." He heaves a sigh. "But alas. Now, where were we? Oh yes. Back to the strangling."

Daphne's heart aches for Eugene. What if it is true, and he is a prisoner trapped in a magical prison, much in the same way she is? Even so, she mustn't let her sympathy get in the way of saving Zach. At least he has a chance at freedom. In a way, helping him escape the Forbidden Forest will be a vicarious taste of freedom for her. She allows herself a moment to imagine life beyond her wintry confines. Most of the year, the mirrors show the forest Outside with dusty light filtering through pines. The sky is like something from an alien world, shades of blue rather than the gray of her own domain. She imagines looking at this sky through a canopy of pines, face bathed in dappled light, smelling a verdant forest. But the Outside is Zach's world, not hers.

"I will save his life," she whispers; a pledge

"You're getting stubborn in your old age."

"I'm eighteen."

"Like I said."

Daphne glares at him, hands on hips.

"All right. Give him some of an apple." He slinks further up on the branch, dislodging a piece of fruit. It plunks onto the snow.

Daphne leaps back, clasping her hands over her mouth. Removing an apple from a sacred tree is treason. Eating one is death. "What have you done?"

"Calm down. The old hag won't miss one apple from her glorious grove."

"I can't believe you called Claudia an old hag. And the apples are poisonous. I said no killing the nice man, remember?"

"They aren't poisonous. They contain powerful healing magic. How do you think Claudia has stayed young for all these years? How many old hags look twenty?"

"But she told me ..."

"Claudia lied. Get over it. She lies about a lot." He hangs his head in a most un-snakelike manner.

This can't be. Claudia has warned Daphne since the beginning that if she eats an apple, she'll die. But maybe that didn't mean the apple would kill her. Maybe it meant that Claudia's punishment for Daphne's disobedience would be death.

He twists around his branch and down the trunk of the tree. "Give the 'nice man' a few bites of the apple, then get him out of here, or we do it my way."

Clenching her jaw, she holds her breath and picks up the apple, half expecting it to explode. It's warm and heavy in her palm and doesn't feel malevolent at all. And it seems to have a pulse—one that matches her own. "Thank you, Eugene," she says, walking back to the cabin, her footsteps muffled by snow.

AFTER TRYING, BUT failing, to get the apple into the unconscious man without risking him choking to death, Daphne remembers something she read in one of her stories.