Snow White and the Eighth Dwarf

By Cheryl Sterling

Marked for death by her stepmother’s manic jealousy, Princess Snow White of Enchanted narrowly escapes the huntsman’s ax. Plunged into a treacherous blizzard, she stumbles across a cottage deep in the forest. But the owners, seven dwarfs and their adopted (and cute) human brother, cannot offer Snow refuge for long.
Snow, who’s never done anything more arduous than princessing, must brave grueling weather, cross two kingdoms, and reach her only living relative ahead of the Evil Queen’s army. If Snow fails, she loses more than her throne . . .
Lex Sands, always out of place within his family, has his world turned upside down when a woman with skin as white as snow and hair as black as coal—and a curve or two—breaks into his house. Suddenly, he’s responsible for her safety. With nature against them and time running out, can he prove his worth to his family, and, more importantly, to Snow White?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cheryl Sterling
• Release date: Mar 25, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370457632

Cheryl Sterling

Cheryl Sterling is an American author of several paranormal and contemporary romance novels and short stories. Her first novel, What Do You Say to a Naked Elf?, was a finalist in the TARA contest and was later sold to Leisure Books, an imprint of Dorchester Publishing. Cheryl is a co-founder and past president of Grand Rapids Region Writers Group in Grand Rapids, MI. She has conducted several workshops that focused on the writing craft and co-chaired their first “I’ve Always Wanted to Write a Book” regional conference. In her spare time (she’s retired, so there’s that, but she writes a lot, so, never mind), she reads. All genres (except suspense and horror because she reserves the right to mess with readers’ minds). She loves history (lots of ideas to steal borrow), sci-fi, fantasy, paranormal, Regencies (who knew so many eligible Dukes were around?), anything Doctor Who, and/or quantum entanglement. Her passion is learning and improving her craft, but mostly, she is a teacher. Cheryl currently lives in Phoenix with her husband and their cat, Coco Xena.

Book preview

Chapter One

LEX SANDS SWUNG AN AX with force and decapitated his victim. Blood spurted, and steam rose as it met the frozen winter air.

Such a savage beast I am. The Queen should be honored to have me in her army.

He looped twine around his victim’s feet and hoisted the body from a barn beam to let it bleed out.

A familiar tightness gripped his chest. He fell back against a wall, gasping, his lungs constricted at the slight exertion. Black and white dots speckled his vision.

Oh, so savage. I can’t even breathe on my own. How can I be a warrior for the Queen?

His illusions of grandeur evaporated as he fought the pain. By the time he’d regained control of his breathing, reality crashed around him. The victim he’d killed swung from the beam, its feathers still wet from when he’d chased it around the hen house. He’d fought the battle only in his mind, and the Queen would laugh if she knew of his folly.

Another boring day in the life of Lex the dwarf. Except he wasn’t a dwarf. The Dredge family had fostered him for almost twenty-one years. Though he towered over them, they still treated him as a baby. His stupid, weak lungs blocked working in the damp gold mines and shadowed his place in the family.

His lungs still tight, Lex finished his routine chores, collected the chicken carcass, and trudged toward the cottage. He might not have won on the battlefield, but he’d proven victorious in the barnyard.

While he’d been inside the barn, the winter storm had intensified. The wind howled in the surrounding trees, and sunlight paled to a dim star. As he climbed the cottage steps, he noticed footprints, too small to belong to a dwarf, on the snow-blown porch floor.

The hair on the back of his neck rose.

Who dared trespass? Treasure seekers? Strangers were rare this deep in the Enchanted Forest, but there’d been rumors of deserters from the Queen's army.

What had interfered with the dwarfs’ magic wards, designed to repel intruders?

The cottage door stood open, snow whirling in glee as it slipped into the forbidden warmth. He dropped the chicken to the floor with a plunk. Lex withdrew a knife from its sheath and pulled a hatchet free from the woodpile.

He noted the lingering daylight. An hour remained before the dwarfs returned from the mine. He would capture the thief and prove his worth.

They’ll thank me for this.

Lex paused at the doorway, his senses alert for the thief, but he saw nothing and heard only the creak of trees as they swayed in the increasing wind.

Melted snow inside the threshold marked where the thief had stamped his feet. A wet trail marred the rug. Lex stepped across the mess and scanned the main room for the intruder.

Discarded cushions from eight chairs showed the thief’s struggle to find a comfortable position. A book lay with pages upturned, and sheet music from the piano scattered across the floor. He’d banked the fire before he’d left, but flames in the hearth sizzled and popped.

Lex straightened a fireplace screen knocked askew. He swept up the sheet music before the wind blew it near the flames and tucked the papers under an ore sample.

The thief had disturbed nothing else. He’d either hurried or lacked burglary skills.

Not a good thief, a hungry thief. Lex entered the kitchen. Someone had moved the soup pot from the back of the cookstove to the butcher block counter. A dirty bowl and overturned spoon revealed the burglar had helped himself to a meal.

Cheeky bastard. Lex’s gaze rested on a particular flagstone, under which lay a secret room where they stored their gold. It had not been disturbed.

Lex returned to the great room and followed a trail of wet footprints up flagstone steps. Did the burglar remain in the cottage?

A long corridor split the upper floor; seven bedrooms and two bathrooms divided along its length. The growing storm rattled the shutters as his gaze swept the rooms, which showed no evidence of burglary. No stranger snored in the shortened beds, which meant the burglar had left, or was in his room.

At the end of the corridor lay a tiny room that had served as his since the dwarfs found him in the woods as a baby.

He slipped the hatchet handle into his belt, the easier to grab if needed, and transferred the knife to his left hand. He tucked a length of twine into his pocket, ready to bind his victim.

Lex made no noise as he approached his room. His fingers tightened around the door handle and turned it. Weak sunlight from the lone window echoed off the wall and illuminated his prey.

A woman slept in his bed.

Chapter Two

MIRROR, MIRROR? ARE YOU THERE? The request interrupted the calm of the cozy room near the castle kitchens.

Whose turn is it? Ethel Miller asked her twin sister. She did not look up from layering paint onto canvas, trying to duplicate the complex image in her head. She’d found a rhythm between brush and brain and could not afford to soothe Queen Sabine’s inevitable list of imagined maladies.

It’s yours, Azalea Miller said. Ethel doubted she’d lifted her gaze from the mosaic table top she worked on, or if she’d glanced at the schedule posted on the wall.

Humph. Ethel put down her paintbrush, the image fading, never to be captured again. She unbuttoned her smock. Did you rearrange the times in the middle of the night so it’s forever my turn?

Nonsense. We share this dreadful task. Azalea picked up a tiny piece of azure glass and shoved it into the design as if to emphasize her right to leisure time while her sister played nursemaid.

Someday. Ethel sighed. Someday, they’d be free of the Queen's demands and could create without interruption.

Not today. Now stop grumbling and do your duty. Azalea watched as her sister donned a sparkling purple robe and placed a pointed hat on her auburn head.

Stomach in, she ordered.

Ethel sucked in her not so tight tummy. Hmm. Time for a new exercise routine.

Boobs out, Azalea continued.

Ethel thrust out her breasts, two of her most prized possessions.

Not too bad for a woman of a seasoned age.

It’s show time, the sisters said in unison. They giggled at the old routine.

Be serious, now, Azalea warned, she expects a dark and mysterious witch.

Ethel nodded and stepped before the mirror, invisible to anyone but the sisters. She schooled her features into a somber appearance.

I am here, o mighty Queen. What is your wish?

Let it be something minor and manageable.

The mirror shimmered, and the Queen's image appeared. She’d swept her fair hair into an intricate knot, now askew, and red rimmed her sapphire eyes.

Mirror, mirror, I beg you tell me the truth. Her voice trembled.

As if we have a choice, Azalea muttered in the background.

Shh. Then to the Queen, If it is within my power.

Mirror, I am now alone.

Alone, my dainty right foot, Azalea whispered. She has dozens of servants, us, Snow, plus Dave the huntsman to warm her bed. I doubt she is alone.

Ethel spoke out of the corner of her mouth. Will you be quiet?

The Queen continued. Tell me, Mirror, when will I achieve fulfillment?

So, nothing minor or manageable today. The Queen was on a downer.

We carry within us the seeds of fulfillment and great wonders. Have you considered volunteering? Avoiding negative people? Not wearing black? It’s not your color. Maybe pink to bring out your rosy cheeks or blue to enhance your eyes?

I’m rolling mine, Azalea commented.

Ethel made a rude gesture behind her back. Perhaps if you looked beyond your needs, you will find what you seek.

The Queen shook her head. No, there is nothing but despair. Mirror, I have no one left.

And what of Snow White? She is worth your attention. The sisters had agreed to accelerate their campaign to ease the friction between the two.

Sabine’s eyes flashed. Snow White is gone.

What? Azalea asked.

What? Ethel echoed. She closed her eyes and cast her power outward. In a flash, she saw the Queen's action. You ordered the huntsman to kill her?

Sabine sniffed. What else could I do? She is younger and far prettier than I. How will I attract another husband if she is in the way, distracting any candidates from pursuing a relationship with me?

Marry her off first. Ethel reeled from the atrocity the Queen committed. There are several candidates who would consider you above the child.

The child is eighteen and can survive on her own. Or could, but I asked Dave to make her a non-issue. I acted for the best. The Queen gave a doleful sigh. But now I am alone. Can you not see when my true prince will come?

He is in your bed every night. Sabine chose not to hear the truth. Ethel shuddered. I cannot predict the future, mighty Queen, but fate has a way of rewarding those who wait. And punishing those who break the rules.

That is not acceptable. I hold your contract to tell me the truth, not spout platitudes. Give me a better answer. Sabine’s sorrow switched to anger.

Perhaps tomorrow. Ethel waved her left hand. The mirror shimmered, and the Queen's image faded.

Oh, you’re in trouble now, Azalea said with a tsk-tsk of her tongue.

So be it. I am tired of her selfishness and her ‘I hold your contract’ threats. Does she think I’ll forget she has us under her spell? Ethel tore off the robe and threw it against a wall.

Until she finds true love.

Which she won’t unless you count the love she has for herself. Life had dealt several blows to Sabine; she focused on her own misfortune.

Azalea sighed. At least, she believes we are one person, not two. There is hope one of us might escape.

Ethel rushed to her sister and embraced her. I won’t abandon you.

Nor I you. Azalea hugged her back.

We will deal with her together.

Her twin pulled back and stared at Ethel. Why lie to her? Why not tell her that Snow lives?

Ethel shrugged. She did not ask, and we are not obliged to volunteer information, only answer direct questions. Snow is safe and with someone who will change her life.

Oh, so you can predict the future? Azalea’s right eyebrow rose.

No, but young Lex Sands may solve multiple problems. Sister, it’s time we stopped being spectators in our lives and revive the magic that inadvertently brought us into the Queen's bondage. Snow’s disappearance marks an opportunity for us.

Azalea straightened and clapped her hands. I like where this is headed. What are you saying?

Ethel smiled. Joy spread through her, a rare occurrence since their incarceration. I have a plan.

Chapter Three

EXCUSE ME. Lex stepped back.

Wait a minute. Why should good manners take control? This woman with skin as white as snow and hair as black as coal snuggled on his bed, the homemade quilt not hiding her curves. She’d broken into his cabin, sat in his chair and ate his soup. She deserved no courtesy.

Excuse me, he repeated louder with a hard edge sure to wake her and send her trembling into the storm. You’re in my house. Get out.

She didn’t tremble. Or flee. She didn’t move unless one counted the slightest pout of ruby red lips.

Lex didn’t. Count it, that is. He’d never be taken in with simple, womanly tricks.

You’re in my house. He jostled the mattress. Whoever you are, it’s time to leave.

She sighed, a sound like the first breath of spring, and turned, pulling the quilt over her head. Ten more minutes.

How dare she? Ten minutes, indeed. She was careless, thoughtless and lazy, three traits he abhorred.

Get up. He sheathed the knife, grabbed the quilt’s hem and jerked it off her.

Hey! The woman sat, and the pout returned. She stared at him with the brownest eyes he’d ever seen, like pools of chocolate, rich and warm and unfocused from sleep.

Hey, yourself. Who are you, and what are you doing in my house? Lex glanced out the tiny window to check the time, but the storm had erupted in the few minutes he’d been inside and obscured the last of the sun.

He’d bundle her out of here before his family returned. Maybe tie her and throw her . . . Where? Not in the secret room with the gold. The barn? Even with the warmth of the animals, it might be too cold for her.

Why did he worry about her comfort? She was a thief and deserved to be tossed into the storm.

Who are you? he asked again.

The woman stretched. Her red cloak parted to reveal pale, bare arms, with delicate wrists and a dimple in her left elbow. She smiled, displaying dazzling white teeth.

Why, I’m Snow.

Snow? What kind of name is Snow?

It’s my name. Snow White. Given by my poor, poor mother before her untimely death. But death is always untimely, isn’t it?

She stared at him as if expecting an answer. She appeared grieved and as guileless as a newborn lamb at the same time.

It was a trick, it had to be.

"All right, Snow White, what are you doing in my house? How did you get here? We’re not on the main road." The dwarfs had built the cabin deep in the woods, near the mines.

Is this your house? It’s charming. She squinted at him. "Are you Prince Charming?"

Lex gestured to his rough clothes. Do I look like a prince? I’m Lex Sands, and you didn’t answer my questions.

She laughed, a trilling ripple of mirth. Sands meets Snow.

"That’s not funny. Why are you here?" The woman was a feather wit. Empty-headed. Air-brained. A complete fool.

But damn fine on the eyes.

Snow White’s face screwed into a frown, not as attractive as her previous pouts. That, Mr. Sands, is a long, sad story.

Can you make it a short story? She irritated him beyond measure. And my name is Lex.

Mr. Lex. I’m here because Dave tried to kill me.

Not a short story. The urge to sit on the bed and wait until she came to a point overwhelmed him, but he fought the possibility of capitulation and loss of control. Sitting at her feet like a puppy waiting to have its stomach rubbed negated looking mean and intimidating.

Who is Dave? He bit his tongue before adding more. Multiple questions confused her. He’d have to draw out the answers one at a time.

Oh, he’s a huntsman. Have you met him?

Lex made another note to himself about Snow White. She answered questions with more questions.

No. Why did he try to kill you?

Oh, because of Sabine. Do you have anything to eat?

My soup wasn’t enough? No. Who is Sabine? Surely not the Queen? He wanted to swear in frustration.

Snow blinked. Queen Sabine. Do you know her?

Golden nuggets! Everyone knew the Queen. Children quaked at her legendary anger. Brave men cowered in fright. How was Snow White connected to her and were the Queen's guardsmen ready to barge in at any moment?

Snow rattled on as if unaware of the enormity of her words. It’s not my fault the Queen's heart broke after her first husband died. She met my father, but he died, too. Grief and pain etched a wrinkle, or two, or three, on her face.

Lex betrayed himself and sank onto the bed. You’ve angered the Queen?

Not intentionally. I never meant to, but she has this mirror, you see—Oh! That’s a joke. See into the mirror. I’m clever.

I’m struggling to not laugh. What about her mirror? The storm obliterated any whisper of day, and the time escaped him. Not true. Several centuries had passed since he’d entered the room.

Mirror, Mirror is the sweetest ever, but honest, and when Sabine learned I’d surpassed her in beauty, well, the Queen was not amused.

Lex sifted through her barrage of words. Queen Sabine had married Snow’s father? That meant—

Lex jumped to his feet and pulled out his knife, glancing around the tiny room. Wait. What? Queen Sabine is your mother?

Don’t do that, you’ll hurt someone. Snow took the weapon from him and laid it on the bed. She’s my stepmother, but I’ve known her since infancy, soon after my poor, poor mother—

Met her untimely death. I’ve got the picture. Mother dies, Father remarries, New Stepmother tolerates you until someone named Mirror tells her she’s looking her age. Then Presto! Chango!, you’re in the woods, about to meet your own untimely death when—as if by magic—you escape. Of all the cabins in the realm, you walk into mine. Did I miss anything? He wanted to pull his hair out. He wanted to throw Snow White out the window, but her curves wouldn’t fit. Damn, distracting curves.

She clapped her hands. You’re much cleverer than me.

Tell me something I don’t know. He paced the tight confines of the room. Look, Snow, I want to help, but I’m no match against an armed squadron of the Queen's soldiers. I suggest you head for the border. In two or three days you’ll reach the city of Saltcliffe. I’ll point you in the right direction.

She’d entered the cabin during the two hours he’d been in the barn doing his chores. If the Queen asked Mirror about the fairest maiden in the land after Snow’s supposed death—Lex’s brain whirled with impossible calculations.

What a sensible plan. I’m not sensible, you know. It’s from being a princess. Princesses do nothing, so why should they think? Can I take that wonderful soup with me? And bread? I’ll get hungry on the trail. She stood, the top of her head as high as his shoulder. Lex stepped back.

Anything. Anything you want. He stopped from grabbing her and pushing her out the door. Not grabbing her seemed a sensible plan.

Maybe I could borrow your knife, in case I must defend myself. Or hunt food. Is it hard to skin an animal? Tears welled in her chocolate eyes.

There’s a dead chicken on the porch. It’s yours, a going away present. Would soldiers brave the storm? Queen Sabine’s would or risk punishment on their return.

You’re very kind. Perhaps your kindness might extend to loaning me warm clothes and boots? My feet are smaller than yours. I suppose if I’d known of my exile, I would have dressed better. She smiled, a sad, watery thing, as if she’d practiced bravery in her mirror for years.

Fine, but hurry. He grabbed his spare shirt and threw it at her. She pulled it over her cloak and entangled her head and arms.

Let me help. He unfastened her cloak and touched her skin.

Dizziness overtook him. Lex checked to make sure an arrow hadn’t hit him in the back.

Try it this way.

With the grace of a goddess, she wiggled and thrust her hips in one direction and her magnificent bosom in the other. In a trice, she donned his shirt and her cloak. Satisfied, she grinned at him.

He checked for a second arrow.

Perfect. He’d heard tales of the Queen's magic. Did it involve invisible weapons?

He needed to think about visible soldiers driven by a vain Queen's wrath. Lex bolted for the door, his hand gripping Snow’s in case she thought of another delay.

Wait. She pulled against him. What’s that noise?

It soared above the clatter of the storm. He recognized the sound.

Doom.

Chapter Four

QUEEN SABINE OF ENCHANTED, Duchess Waterford, watched her lover from his reflection in her dressing room mirror. Not the mirror kept in the throne room. The mirror angered her, and Sabine refused to ask her questions until she apologized. How dare she? Ah well, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered nowadays. If only King Henry hadn’t died three months ago and left her so alone. She still had David, but a lover didn’t substitute for the stability of a husband. A rich husband. A rich, royal husband.

David pulled on his boots and walked across plush carpet to stand behind her. His hands caressed her shoulders. Warm, gentle hands, but calloused from his work as a common huntsman. Why didn’t he listen to her and stop working? What a ridiculous idea to hunt for their meat when his only task should be to bring her pleasure in bed.

But not for long. She had more ambitious plans.

His gaze met