Snow White: Part Three

They lay entangled upon the floor in the moonlight, glistening with the sheen of arduous exertion on their brows.

"We must leave Nadari," he whispered into her tousled hair.

"Nadari is mine, Jovar. I will not be chased from my birthright to satisfy the cravings of lunatics and martyrs."

"Then leave for me. We will go into the wilds where creatures like us belong."

"And if I do not, Jovar?"

"Then I will be forced to kill you, Caliste, and you will leave regardless."

They made love again like wild, fevered animals, and she relented. They left as soon as they had dressed.

Days passed and Selan could find no trace of Jovar. Fearing the worst, she entered the castle and went immediately to Caliste's chambers. The bad had not been slept in and though the armoire had been left open, Selan could not tell if anything had been taken. She searched the rooms of Caliste and found nothing but the old mirror. Carrying it to the window, she set it against the glass an stared into the blackness of its glass, for it cast no reflection back at her.

For long moments there was nothing, and her heart raced with mounting dread. Hough she had no love for either the boy or the princess, she did not wish Jovar ill and felt some unfortunate situation had befallen him. As if in answer to her thoughts, the surface of the mirror rippled and images, cloudy at first, formed in its abhorrent blackness.

The princess, in her glory, stretched her arms above her head and rounded her his provocatively as she straddled Jovar's naked form. Arching her back, Caliste shook her body, and threw back her head in laughter Selan could not, thankfully hear. Jovar reached up and cupped each breast in his hands, and Squeezed, then reached around and pulled her down. He rolled her over and lifted her legs to rest over his shoulders as he drove himself into her again a and again, and Selan, ashamed and aroused, turned her face away.

Rich, traoty laughter filled the room and Selan tuned back to the mirror, whose images had been replaced my the single figure of a dark hooded being.

"for taking lives that do not belong to you, I take yours now. Suffer and die, though it be slow and painful, False Queen of Nadari. All hail the fairest of them all, Queen Caliste! Long Live Queen Caliste!"

Thick green vapors emanated from the mirror and surrounded Selan, and they began to twit around her, enveloping her in their strangeness. Her body writhed and twisted, and it felt as if an invisible forcer were compressing her, pushing into her. She flet brittle, frail, and sagging. The mirrors blackness became the image of an old woman, wizened by age. Screming, she fell back and fled to the temple. The sisters mourned for Jovar, yet even with all teir power could not udo the effects.

"I believe she has taken him," Selan moaned. "I believe they have fled to the woods. What am I to do? Do I leave them to their life together? I did not love Leovan, but Amelin did. I feel her love for him eact time I see you, for I know of what has happened in this kingdom. What am I to do, Sisters?"

The fair haired sister wiped away her teas and watched the red haired sister weep openly in the darker sisters arms. "This was not unexpected," she confessed, "though our darkest fears have been realized. The magics that have made you into this are beyond our scope. We are but weavers of spells of night and day. This thing, this vile demon in the glass, is fully more than that. It is midnight dark and It is truly loathsome. If she has created such a thing it may be too late to kill her."

"Jovar," the red haired sister moaned, "Oh our sweet boy. If Amelin could see him now,she would fall dead again from the horror!"

Selan shook with frustration. "I can not give up. Not when she has taken so very much from this kingdom. How I wish I had neve come to this accursed place! Yet here I am and I must do that which needs doing. Please, sisters, we must think of something. Nadari will not be safe untill her ashes have been scattered as you directed."

For several days they searched sacred texts and communed with the Other Realms. At last, they called for Selan, who was tending to the ill.

"Take these," the red haired sister said, handing her a basket of apples. "One bite and she will fall at your feet."

"But first, the daunting task of finding her. And what of Jovar? If he has sided with her, will he not try to stop me?"

"Your transformation is most fortuitous. Jovar will not suspect an old woman."

Selan nodded and took the basket.



She rued the day that she had ever come to Nadari. This rough and cursed place had nothing in common with the quietude and solace found in her own homeland. It was only an accident that she had been born woman and was therefore at political mercy of her father, king of a nation a thousand days journey from this hateful place. She missed the rushing river that bisected the kingdom, the snow capped mountains in the distance.

Still, she was here. She had nothing to do but try to fix this. Pulling her cloak tighter, she headed into the forest. When she was hungry, she ate of the berries she found. When she was tired, she slept in caves or beneath a blanket of leaves. A chill had entered her bones that she could not shake and still she wandered.



Caliste and Jovar traveled many days and nights into the wood and came at last to a clearing at the base of the mountains. A long low house, simple enough for their needs, sat before them with no signs of life.

Caliste and Jovar crept inside, amused by the seven small beds, as if for children. Jovar lit a fire, and Caliste pumped water and filled the kettle in the fire. When it was hot enough she washed herself as did Jovan and they lay on the floor before the fire, naked, and they turned to each other for physical comfort.

After their passionate lovemaking, though it had little to do with love, she moaned and crawled to the She sighed deeply and rubbed at her chest. "Jovar, I must ask you to get for me a special flower. It grows only on the other side of this mine. Without it, I fear I will only worsen in condition."

He kissed her brow and left without another word. After he was gone, she began to clean the builing and curled up before the fire, feeling fine. Hours passed and soon the sounds of seven people marching awoke her. For a moment, Caliste feared that Selan, that simpering fool irl, had sent the royal guard afer her. But she knew the queen would not. Regardless of her crimes, which could not be proven, Selan was a good girl and could not kill another, let alone the princess.

The seven men that came into the house were stunted, thick bodied men with bulbous noses and wrinkles around ther eyes. They each had long tangled beards of mated, blackened beards to their knees, and three hand long moustaches that had been braided intot heir beards.

"Please," she begged, "do not hurt me! I am the princess of Nadari and my wicked stepmotther has tried to kill me. She is a wicked, evil woman. She hired an assassin to kill be but I only narrowly escaped. If you let me stay, I will cook for you and clean for you, but know that if you cast me out, I shall be dead before sunrise."

There was a great debate, full of grumblling and concern. In the end they decided to keep her, if only to have less worry about their home and dinner. Dropping a fat sack of gems the spilled onto the floor, the man who appeared to be the leadaer of the little troupe agreed. He promised that as long as she lived under theor roof, she would have their protection. Caliste only smiled and thanked them.

Jovar spent days wandering the woods, heeding the land as he navigated the unfamiliar terrain. Selan was even less accustomed and wandered, frozen and afraid, through the night. Two weeks passed in this way; Caliste would tend the homes of the dwarves and Selan would search, becoming more discouraged each passing day.

Jovar retrned one night, long after the dwarves had retired for the night. Caliste, who had taken to cleaning during the night so as to plot her revenge upon Selan and the sisters during he day, greeted him warmly, smothing him with kisses. Inside, her stomach churned as she told him how much she missed him while he was gone. Jovar, stinking of the wild, reached into his pack and pulled out handfulls of a black flered plant.

"I did not know how much you needed so I took all that I could find."

Caliste took the herbs from him and smiled invitingly. She leaned in and kissed him as if she were drinking in his soul and stepped back. Jovar took a step forward and stopped. He remembered that smile. It chilled him as it widened, as if taking on a life of its own, and yet it still did not reach her eyes. Her eys, once gleaming with some inner light, now sparled with a deep malice.

Caliste screamed.

The dwarves in the next room brought ax and mace from beneath their beds and fell upon him like a ravenous pack of dogs. Jovar stood no chance against them; he was shattered and chopped in pieces before he could cry out. They could not see Caliste behind them, grinning.

They dumped the gems from their sacks into a pile and filled them again with the pieces of Jovar. Taking them outside, the miners then weighted down with rocks and took them to the river. Caliste, while they were gone, cleaned up. She made them a feast, helping out her poor culinary skills with her magics. When they retrned, she amazed them with a banquet, a feast that they could celebrate with. The danced and sang through the night, into the dawning, and Selan caught the sound of their merriment on the wind.

She did not know whose voices she began to follow, or what she would find upon arriving. She thought only of a warm hearth and hot food and a comfortable bed to lay herself upon. She found the house at dawn and hid within the bushes. AS the sun rose, seven small men filed out wearily, tired from their night of revelry. And from the window, a smiling Caliste, waving them off.

There had been much to clean from the night's celebration and Caliste kept bringing a hot steaming kettle out into the yard to fil the washtub. Selan watced her animae the washtub and the boulder nearby that scrubbed the stains out for her. She hung the wash and disenchanted the wash helpers, and Selan, sensing her moment passing, waited till she had gone back in for something and stepped from the bushes.

"You look so hungry, girl," she crooned. "Such a slip of a girl needs her energy to take care of all that washing."

Caliste sighed. "Men are such trite and simple creatures," she replied. "How fare you, old woman? And what have you in the basket?"

"Oh, this," Salen chuckled." I always pick the first apples of the fall from the grove by the river. But Goddess and Demon help me, I've got myself all turned around. I live that way," she gestured with a trebling hand towards the mines. "I'm sorry to keep you. Best be on my way now."

"Slow down, Old woman. I am trul sorry if gave you the impression that you are unwelcome. It's been so long sicne I have had the pleasure of an actual person to speak with. Will you not stay a bit and share your autumn treasures?"

Selan sighed. "Ah, now that is quite neighborly of you. I wish that I could stay but these old bones ache so terribly. Let me leave you an apple or two, my girl."

Caliste took an apple and held it to her lips. It gleamed in the sun, so shiny and fresh. It had been ages since she'd tasted real beauty and she lingered over it a moment before she sank her perfect white teeth into the ivoy meat. The sweet grti moved against her tongu and she chewed sowly, savoring the taste.

Selan watched her chew the rotting fruit slowly, amazed that the glamour had lasted so long. Caliste looked to her, as if for the first time, and seemed to see through the old age .

"You…" she hissed, and collapsed. Siezing her chance, she hobled forward and withdrew her dagger. She knelt beside the body and pressed the tip to Caliste's breast, but the thunder of feet vibrating the ground beneath her stopped her. She sheathed the dagger and fled into the wods as the dwarves approached. Hungry and tired, they had come home for food and slepp before heading back into the mines.

When they found Caliste's body, they wept and stomped their feet and cried out for the gods to be merciful. Thy set to work at once, not wishing her to rot as dead things must, to creating for her body the most ornate and elaborate glass coffin, encrusted with jewels. It took one week to construct, and Selan returned to the bushes where she first spied Caliste. When they encased the princess in the glass coffin, she headed home to the kingdom. Perhaps with Caliste dead, the sisters could reverse the spel that had made her this ancient creature.

Because of the roundabout manner in which she had found the dwarves home, it took her nearly two weeks, but she at last arrived at the temple and fell to her knees before their fire. The sisters tended her and nursed her back to helth and, when she felt stronger, she ventured into the castle.



The dwarves carried the glass coffin out into the sun during the day and sat with her in shifts. They read to her at night and laid the cofin before the fire. One afternoon, a horse and rider approached; the rider was tall and strong, and broad shouldered. A golden crown sat upon hs finely groomed head.

"What is that," he asked, pointing to the coffin. Caliste lay still, with no sign of her beauty diminished.

"That is the princess Caliste, fairest in all the land, even in death. She was killed by her stepmother, an evil witch. Maybe if the queen were dead, Caliste could live again.

The prince dismounted and approached th coffin. "She is stunning," he breathed, head swimming. Brushing his fingertips over the glass, his eyes devoured every inch of her. Her lips beckoned him, her tantalizing locks begged to be tangled in his fingers.

Gingerly, he opened the lid and reached out. He cupped her cold face in his hands and stroked her hair. "So beautiful," he whispered. "I must have her for my own. I will give you anything."

"We only ask that you slay the wicked beast that did this to her, your highness. Kill her and free our princess and you can have her. We only want her to live again."

"What does this queen look like?"

One of the dwarves stepped forward. "I thought I saw her the day we found Caliste. She is hunched and old, but she moved too quickly for me to see which way she went."

The prince nodded. "I will track her down and make her pay dearly," he vowed. "I will free the princess from her enchanted rest."

He tracked th passage of the queen without rest, thinking only of the woman in the glass. There were so many things he wished to do to her that it made his pulse race. First, she would weep with gratitude and swoon into his arms. Holding her close he would press her against him, feeling her breasts crushed against him, her nipples hard with growing desire. He wouls carress her back, hands moving steadily lower then pull off her skirts violently. Shaking, she would cling to him and feel him grow harder. He hoped she wore no undergarments, but if she did, he would rip those from her body, as well.

Thoughts of his mounting desire fuel him, gave him speed. Oh how soft her flesh would be beneath him, and how easily she would bend, how willingly she would spread for him. He dreamed of her hands stroking his hardened staff, of using it to penetrate her sanctity. Oh, the thoughts made him moan and shift uncomfortably in his saddle. He would plunge into her over and over, filling her with his desire until she cried out for mercy, but he would not relent. Once in his bed, he would ravage every sweet, succulent inch of her until she was used and weakened, and only then would he let her rest. He would kep her instyle and once she s rested pin her to the bed again. He would own her completely.



Selan sat before the fire as the sisters stood around the table. Caliste's mirror lay befoe them, and they were chanting feverishly, spinning a funnel of pure magics over the glass. Sweat beaded uon their brows as they worked, and finally th glass shattered into thousands of tiny black shards. The thick sickly green smoke that had enveloped selan and changed her into an old woman were sucked out of her body in a violent, noisy rush and sucked back into the broken mirror. The sisters sealed the shattered glass with the torrent of magic floating above, sealing the darkness inside.

Strength an hope flooded back into Selans body and she flexed her limbs, touched her face.

"Oh, thank god," she moaned, as tears of joy fell from her eyes. The dak haired sister nodded.

"I will go to the castle," she told Selan, "and begin a cleansing ritual, but I will need help. There are several healers among the elderly that ave been asking after you. I will enlist their aid but you must go to Caliste and finish her. The longer she lives, the more chance there is that something may go wrong.

And Selan, knowing what she needed to do, left quietly.

She stayed off to the side of the path she had taken and watched as a horse an rider headed quickly for the castle. Recalling the sisters words about something going wrong, she turned herself around and raced back to the castle, fearing she would not be too late. Though she did not know the riders motives, he had the look of blood within his eyes and Selan had a sinking feeling.

The prince pulled to a stop before the castle and stormed into the lobby. An old woman stood in his way and he ran her through with his sword. The body fell off the blade with a slick wet slap and fell to the floor. Another old woman, hearing the shirieks of pain ran into the room and he stalked after her. Trembling and afraid, she could not move and as he ran her through he roared in frustration. Two others ran in and he cried out in alarm.

"What sorcery is this!" He cried, and pointed to the ones he had killed. "I have slain the wicked queen, and I saw her again! I have slain her twice, who are you women? What kind of wichcraft is this?"

Selan arrived to see him slay the last two women and cried out in alarm.

"I have killed the wicked queen four times now, be there any more?" he roared.

"I am the queen of this castle," she shouted, "the ones lying dead at your feet were but poor old women who were assisting my advisors in cleansing this cursed place."

"Yes, this place is cursed, but not in the way you speak it. If you are the queen, then I musst kill you too for that is the only way to break the spell over my fair and beautiful princess Caliste."

"HA!" Tears built, brought on by the terrible mounting pressure of what she had been through. "Caliste? Fair?! How dare you! That evil harpy took everything from these people and she will come back for more if you let it happen! Her mother, the rightful queen, desired a child so badly she went to workers of pure, true magics, but her child was corrupted before ever seeing the light of day by the sadistic canibal creatures that turned Caliste into what she is now.

"Your precius Caliste killed her own mother to be closer to the throne. Ut it was not enough. Her father, the good and kind King Leovan, was killed for loving his Queen Amelin shortly after our forced marriage, and then she plotted to come after me. Your beautiful Caliste turned me into a hag, so I poisoned her with her own trickery. So yes, I be wicked, but I am wicked because of her."

The prince Cried out in disbelief. "How can that be? How should I believe you when the swarves told me the queen is old?"

"You do not have to believe me, but go to the temple and you will hear it for yourself from the Sisters of Fate. They are the last of the Order of Night and Day and they have seen more suffering in this kingdom since the birth of that foul creature than ever has occurred in Nadari before!"

At this, she fell to her knees weeping, moaning at her fate. She begged him to take her from this place, to help her burn it to the gound, then in the same breath wondered aloud what was to become of her home. The prince dropped his sword and knelt beside her. He comforted her as best he could, and she turned her face into him, weeping uncontrollably.

"In my heart, I am sick for what I have done, but I must hear from these sisters you speak of. I must know. "

He went about the villages and heard story aftr story of Caliste's wrath. Each story was more terrible than the last, and in the end he went back to the temple where Selan waited.

"Let us go slay te dragon, he said quietly, yet he could no ignore the thoughts of debauchery he wished to vist upon Caliste's body.

They arrived back at the dwarves home and introduced Selan as Caliste's nursemaid. It was late in the evening and Selan looked around the house for signs of Jovar, and found only a stan on the floor. She said nothing. The prince explained that while he had killed the queen, it was clearly not the source of Caliste's statis, and that his royal socerorers would better able to divine the trouble, but they would have to go soon.

The dwarves relented and agreed that the prince and Selan could take the princess in the morning. They retired, sobbing and disappointed. AS the sounds of their breathing regulated, Selan opened the coffin and dragged the body of Caliste outside, by the woodpile. Taking her dagger, she cut open the front of the orincesses dress and began to carve the heart out.

It was ugly work and the body did not give as easily as she had hoped. When it was done she held the heart in her hands, watching it slowly pulse. Such a small thing, but so deadly, and full of noxious power. She carried the heart inside and noded to the prince, she turned away as she threw it into the fire. There was a mighty shriek from outside, and The body writhed in agony as the heart burned.

At last the sounds outside stopped and Selan curled up in the princes arms and slept peacefully for the first time since coming to Nadari.

She dreamed of peaceful days along the waterfront of her home, and watching the sunsets with a glass of spirits in her hand, happy from an honest days labor in the village. She often dreamed she was a commoner, and felt that in her next life, she would be one. Yet morning came too soon and with it, the fire had died out leaving everyone chilled. The spell was broken. The dwarves emerged from the bedrooms feeling illa t ease, and Selan confessed everything.

She told them of the beginning of Amelin, of whom the sisters would still speak, and she had such love for her husband and home and how the desire for a child led her to adopt Jovar, the stable hand, in spirit. She told them of Leovan, who had been kind and fair in his day, and how the unfolding events took the very soul from him and left him a bitter, drunken man who mourned the loss of his beloved wife.

Selan told them of the spell to make her old and the Sisters of Fate, and the evil creatures that once lived in these woods. The dwarves wept and wailed and bemoaned their part in the death of Jovar. When the taile was told, Selan then confessed to her part in the death of Caliste, the final death, by removing her heart. She swept the ashes into the fire and placed them in a sack, and tied it seven times with seven knots.

The prince begged her forgiveness but waved him off. She said if there was anything he cared to do to make up for the killing of the four old women, he could start by elping her reach the seven rivers. He agreed and they left.

In the house, the dwarves took up their axes and began to fall upon each other in their grief. They tore each other to ribbons in their grief, hoping their deaths would begin to set things right again.