“This is as far as I go,” said the whisperer when they reached a locked gate that the whisperer was easily able to open for them.
Der, Grim, and Snow stepped out of the gate and into the dimness of the dungeon below the castle. There were only a few windows, scattered high along the walls, so high that they were not easily accessible from inside, and they were relatively small as well. Individual cells were made from stone, with heavy, wooden doors closing them in, making it impossible to tell how many of them were actually occupied. Snow could smell must and mildew and unwashed bodies, and it nearly made him retch. He had only been to the dungeons a few times in his life; they had scared him so terribly as a child that he avoided them and often pretended that they did not actually exist. He realized now how foolish that was of him; people were down here in these cells, suffering, many for ‘crimes’ that were nothing more than an inability to provide tax to the Queen, or stealing food and clothing for their children. His tender heart ached. No one deserved to be sent to the dungeons for lack of necessities. He could no longer turn a blind eye to the suffering of those around him.
The Thieves Guild had provided him with information about the castle, and deep within the shadows of the dungeon, they found a back stairwell that spiraled upwards into darkness. Der lit a torch to help them navigate the steep, stone stairs, keeping its flame low, though Snow suspected that no one more living than a few rats had used these stairs in many years, for they were covered with cobwebs and a layer of dust that almost could have passed for fallen snow.
As they climbed up the steep stairs, Snow wondered if they might fall down them to their deaths. He wouldn’t be surprised if this was the most treacherous part of the entire quest and also explained why these stairs were not more commonly used. Up they climbed, each step feeling like they were ascending into the lair of a giant, until they reached what seemed to be a door at the top of the staircase. There was a latch on the inside that Grim unlocked by the light of Der’s torch. Der then smothered the flames, and they pushed the little door open to peek out.
It was the guest wing of the palace, rarely used nowadays, and not far from the wing that housed his own chambers and those of the Queen. There were no servants or guards about, so Snow gestured for Der and Grim to follow him out of the hidden doorway, closing it behind them so it blended into the wall once more.
Down the hallway they crept on cautious feet, passing no one but a few silent portraits of nobles on the walls, who had nothing to say in the matter of their invasion. They reached the end of the wing. Snow peeked out, then ducked back in, holding his finger to his lips in silence as several guards came hurrying down the hall, stopping in front of the closed door of the Queen’s chambers. One of them lifted his hand to knock, but before he could, the door was yanked open, and Queen Schön came flying out into the hallway in a flurry of purple and black fabric, her blond hair bouncing on her shoulders. She nearly ran into the guards, who took a hasty step backwards. “What is going on?” she demanded.
“We’re not sure, your majesty,” said one of the guards nervously, glancing sideways at the other guards to see if they had a better answer. “The people seem to be gathering in the town square.”
“Is the prince with them?” she demanded, her voice unnaturally shrill.
“Prince Makellos?” the guard asked in surprise. “I… don’t know, your majesty. But we’ve been assigned to protect you.”
Queen Schön rolled her eyes. “Well, come on then.” She huffed and stormed down the hall, the guards hurrying after her. As soon as they rounded the corner, Snow gestured to Der and Grim. “Come on.” They hurried into the Queen’s private chambers, where an elegant four-poster bed sat, perfectly fixed by the servants. Her vanity with her makeup and a large mirror was across the room by an ornately-styled window. Everywhere there glinted gemstones of every size, shape, and color, from the eyes of animals carved on furniture, to jewelry on her vanity and dressing table, to even imbedded within the walls. It was almost like being within an oversized treasure box. Der found himself momentarily distracted, staring around open-mouthed at the finery laid out before them, turning in a slow circle to take it all in.
“Shut yer mouth, you look like a landed fish,” Grim whisper-snapped, grabbing Der by the collar and yanking him forward. “Where is this secret workshop?”
Against one wall was the elegantly crafted armoire, with its beautifully inlaid mosaic of gemstones in the pattern of a great peacock, plumage extended, glittering with sapphires and emeralds. Snow gave the doors a pull but found them locked, as he suspected. His heart picked up. They had to get inside, or this would all be for naught. “I know it’s behind these doors.”
“Shall I break them down?” Grim said, hefting his ax over his shoulder.
Snow cringed. Chopping through wardrobe doors would be extremely loud and might bring the guards running. He ran his fingers over the gemstones, trying to press each one. “One of these has to unlock the doors, I’m sure of it. I just don’t know which one.”
Grim began to press at the gemstones with his thumb as well. “There has to be a thousand of them. We’ll be at this for an hour.”
“Oh no, we won’t,” said Der thoughtfully. He reached into a little bag at his hip, pulling out a thin, pointy piece of metal no thicker than a quill. He knelt down by the floor and slid the pointed tip of it into the hinge of the door. He gave it a hard push with his knee, and the lynchpin popped up. He stood and wiggled it out of the hinge, setting it aside, then held up the pointed tool to Snow. “And the top one?”
Snow grinned, leaning down to give him a sweet kiss on the lips. “You’re a genius, Der!”
Der flushed as Snow took the metal tool and poked it up into the upper hinge. Grim let out a huff. “Well, nobody likes a showoff.”
The second lynchpin popped up, and Snow pulled it free. The heavy door began to sag, now only supported by the hinge plates balancing precariously on top of one another, and the lock still in place holding the two doors. He dug his fingers into the wood and pulled the door so the hinge pieces slid free of one another, and the door swung to the side. But it didn’t open very far, as the lock still held the two heavy doors bolted together.
“Allow me,” said Grim, eyeing the tiny gap formed by the sagging door. Snow and Der stepped aside as Grim raised his ax, adjusted his stance, and brought the ax blade down between the doors, cutting through the peg that held them fast. The heavy, decorated door separated from its mate with a loud crack and then hit the floor with a resounding thunk. Snow and Der shoved it aside, not caring where it ended up.
“Thank you, Grim,” Snow said, dropping another kiss onto the grumpy man’s lips. Grim smirked back, and the three of them slipped inside the armoire.
Torches on the walls burst into flame to light the room they entered. It was circular, and quite large, with ancient parchments and texts on the walls. Dusty books were scattered on shelves crudely cut into the stone walls. The floor was also stone. Against one wall was a large, gilded mirror that stood as tall as Snow himself. What looked to be a human skull sat on the worktable, staring vacantly at them from its empty eye sockets, teeth grinning a hideous smile. There were all manner of devices and objects that he had no idea what they were for, presumably magical uses. He was sure Ulrich would know.
All around them, stones glittered. In boxes, on tabletops, in precarious piles. Some Snow could identify, but many others he could not. There were gemstone rocks in every color of the rainbow, some still in a crude state directly from the mines, others carved and polished into beautifully cut stones or carved figurines. But there were no precious stones to be seen. Ulrich had informed him that the purest diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and sapphires, the ones that came from the southern foothill mountain mines, were what gave the Queen her powers, and those were the ones she crushed to create her magical potion. The one she had developed while still under Ulrich’s tutelage, that prolonged her life and her beauty. She drank it every morning, so he was sure it would be easy to spot. And, indeed, it was.
The glass bottle of shimmering, silver powder sat proudly on the wooden worktable. A mortar and pestle lay next to it where the Queen ground the gemstones from the mine where the little men were forced to dig each day. Every drop of blood that had been spilled in that horrific place was because of his mother’s vanity. The bottle was nearly empty; she would be brewing a new batch soon.
He had no idea how much powder was needed for her daily elixir, so he just scooped some into a small cut glass vial nearby,adding some water from a bowl to liquefy it.He turned to Der, giving him a small smile. “Ready.”
Into his hand, Der placed a small packet of powder. It looked like nothing at all, but it held the weight of the kingdom inside. Snow undid the twine binding it closed and opened it. Careful to keep the powder off of his hands, he tipped the packet into the vial. The slightly pinkish powder slid into the silver mixture. He put the cork back in place and gave it a shake to mix it. When he looked in it again, the powder had blended into the mirror-like silver depths that gleamed like shimmering stars. It was beautiful and deadly. Like his mother. Like him. He picked up the larger bottle with the remaining silver powder in it, holding it out to Grimwald. “Smash this?”
“Gladly,” Grim said, setting down his ax and taking the bottle in both hands. He raised it above his head, looking up at Snow with a small, dark smile. “For all of the lives that bitch destroyed.” Then he brought his arms downward with all of his might, casting the bottle as if swinging an ax into a chunk of wood. The bottle hit the stone floor and exploded, glass tinkling like the ringing of tiny bells. The silver powder inside spread across the floor and into the cracks between the stones like grains of sand. Despite there being no windows in this room, a cold draft seemed to catch the powdered gemstones and scatter them until they were no more than a glittery layer of fine dust.
And now, they just needed the Queen to return.
“That felt good. Mind if I smash a few more things?” Grim asked, glancing around the room at all of the many vials and pottery.
“Have at it,” Snow said. “I’ve got what we need.” And the noise would probably get his mother’s attention.
