The Gilded Spine Collective:

Snowest White or Snow as she would often be called—was always very smart and a rather beautiful young lady— adored by her friends, family and most importantly by her father. This was a feeling not shared by her father’s latest admirer a woman we shall call Tabitha, Snow’s step-mother. Snow never understood what her father saw in this woman or what the rush was for them to get married so quickly.

You see Tabitha was an imposing woman, a woman who would never be caught outside of her chambers without a fully powdered face, rouge-red lips and brightly tinted cheeks. In fact, the hazy cloud of powder practically followed Tabitha around, puffing up around her coiled curls like an ominous sign—a brightly lit arsenic beacon of sorts. But alas, as things go, what would this story be without a few ignored signs, especially when love is involved?

Naturally, Tabitha came with her own assortment of problems and such, they came by way of daughters—Rowena, Serena and Melina. Three witchy, rather unfortunate looking incarnates whom Tabitha doted on hand and foot, moving them into the Kings Castle overnight, rousing Snow from her sleep just to move her up into the attic quarters of the castle without warning—the upper, uppity, most tip-top turrets of the castle where not even the spiders or the bats nestled—and that’s where Snow was expected to sleep from here on out.

“Father…how could you…” Snow cried the next morning at breakfast, Tabitha giving an approving smile, rested a firm hand on the King’s arm.

“It’s temporary until the new wing is built. Just show some patience and hospitality for our guests.”

Snow turned, stung by the resolve in her father’s voice. It was as though he was a completely different person. There was no reason two of the girls couldn’t share a room—Snow protested—but her pleas fell on deaf ears.

Snow barely made it around the divot of the spiral steps and onto the landing of the second floor when she heard Tabitha’s low, stern voice echo throughout —” that daughter of yours needs to be set straight. No breakfast for her, no lunch either.” Tabitha paused, snapping her fingers as she called the King’s main assistant into the room.

“Gerard, make sure she is locked upstairs for the afternoon please… and immediately, no dilly-dallying.”

Snow stopped, unable to turn back as she heard Gerard’s steps just a few feet behind her own as he caught up, putting a comforting arm around her.

“Don’t worry, I will bring you something to eat and read,” Gerard whispered as soon as they were out of earshot.

“I don’t want to read…” Snow whispered back defiantly.

“Fine, suit yourself…but I think you will want to read this book,” Gerard added as he turned hand her a thick black book from his back pocket. There was gold lettering on the front and all around the spine’s edge.

The book was no bigger than Snow’s palm. It wasn’t a bible or a manual, a hymnal or a lesson-book. On the front was a large embossing of a skeleton-key with floral brambling bushes and roses.

“It will help you more than me. The answer to all the questions you’ve yet to ask will be in this little book. You will know what to do from there. The book has all the answers you will ever need.” Gerard continued, his voice practically muted as he talked— “but don’t get caught…whatever you do…things will only get worse if you stay here. You have to stop her…” Gerard paused, looking over his shoulder.

“I have to go now…once you leave the attic, head to the forest through the tunnels…take the path to the left…it’s friendlier…” Gerard whispered softly with a parting wink before finally locking Snow into the attic chamber.

Curiously Snow flipped the book open, inside were hundreds of keys hooked onto lobster-claw styled- clasps bound to thick leather pages. Each one must have gone to a different part of the castle, as well as nearby grounds and beyond.

Snow began to wonder, was the key to get out of the attic in this book? Had to be what he meant by page seven. She couldn’t very well use a key on an interior door handle…but that was beside the point. There were other oddities sewn into the book, maps, tracings of a grave marker, talks of ripening a withered apple, and recipes for poisoning pies. Snow wondered what everything meant and why Gerard had given this to her when suddenly she looked up.

A handful of friendly red-chested bluebirds landed with a flutter in the window.

“Oh hello,” Snow smiled, “would you like to join me? I’m going to leave this place, no one wants me here.”

“I like having you here,” Johnny the elder bluebird replied, “but I understand, the new lady isn’t nice…she’s brought a curse onto your father…you have to save him…we can help you, do you know where are you going?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Snow mused, eyeing the book in her hands. Unsure of exactly what her next move would be.

“Any ideas?”

Snow flipped the pages back to the map where a few instructions were hastily written—Gerard’s notes no doubt—which read as follows—pass the balding man with a broken cart and two horses, a plain tree and a tall bridge. There was a series of small cottages circled near a range of mountains.

“We know where that is, Gerard goes there often…follow us,” Johnny chirped excitedly, soaring towards the angled awning. A short half-circle door was carved into one of the attic towers.

“It’s meant to be an illusionary tunnel of sorts; the maids know more about it. There are hundreds of these tunnels and mazes in the castle grounds above and below where the eye can see. You just have to know what you are looking for.” Johnny added, braiding skyward amidst the other red-chested bluebirds as Snow opened the half-circle door.

The door creaked open to a poorly lit set of stone stairs that led down to a dark abyss.

“If anyone else opens the door they will see nothing but a dark and gloomy closet, or a broken floorless dumbwaiter. But not you. You will want to take a light if you have it. If not, walk slow. The stairs aren’t evenly done.” Johnny said, descending part of the way down as the gaggle of birds shadowed overhead chirping happily along. It must have been quite the sight—if only Snow knew what the rest of them were saying as they squeaked noisily above.

Snow carefully stepped down onto the sandy stone, making sure she had her footing before letting go of the door jamb. The cold sent an abrupt shudder through her body.

“It’s not my fault they didn’t take the time to learn English.” Johnny continued, rambling on overhead as the group made their way down the spiral stairs— “most of the birds just spend their days picking and nipping at god knows what. Cawing and cackling. But you’ve spoken to Bertie and Mora though, they’re sort of quiet today, nervous about leaving the Castle, cats got their tongue as you would say…but dont' mind them” Johnny chuckled to himself with this, seeming quite pleased with himself that he'd made good use of a joke.

Snow smiled at the only two other red-breasted blue-birds who fluttered nearby that weren’t engaging in all the hubbub. It wasn’t long before they’d landed uneventfully at the bottom of the tower’s stairs.

“The hard part’s over Snow, now we’ve just got to get out of the Castle grounds and over to the woodlands. Gerald’s cousins house is to the left. We will have everything we need there. I will set off the distraction. Go when I give the command…”

Snow didn’t get a chance to ask any questions when she heard Johnny shout— “NOW!”

A loud thud sounded from somewhere off in the distance as a Snow made a mad dash for the woods. The birds quickly following suit.

“What did you do?” Snow asked breathlessly once they were far enough into the woods not to be spotted or heard.

“It was nothing, I just stripped the laundry wire and undid a few things, the barks louder than the bite—will keep them busy for a while no doubt.”

Snow smiled imagining her stepmom running about with a “headache” from all the sudden noise.

They’d passed all the things that Gerard’s map had said and more—the balding man with a broken cart and two horses, a plain tree and a tall bridge.

“Now, keep in mind Snow, there are some things you should be aware of when it comes to Gerard. He has some…cousins…they are quite interesting. I’ve seen them for myself. They live on a plot of land in a series of cottages like a compound of sorts complete with a witch, a fortune teller, a magician, everything you could ever think of or imagine is present. It’s about a day or so walk from where we are today. Are you absolutely sure you still want to go here? We can keep walking and go anywhere else in the world if you decide. Gerard only visits because those are his family but he is sending you there for a purpose. You seek something…answers, a reason, something… so you have to do some soul-searching… to find out what that is that you want, what your heart truly desires…so what is it you want to do?”

Johnny was fluttering just inches from Snow’s face as he talked. “The coolest thing is there’s a ruby mine…that’s my favorite…just salted rubies. A rare sort of ruby that can be heated like a lamp…”

Snow stopped. Wondering what it was she truly wanted.

She wanted her old life back. She wanted her stepmother gone. She wanted her room back, her father back. She didn’t want to be locked in the attic. She felt the thick book in her pocket with all the keys and yet, she still didn’t know what to do.

“Let’s go and see what these cousins have to say. Maybe they have somewhere for us to stay in the meantime.”

“Alright, let’s go…onward…” Johnny commanded, his wing pointed outward, “but first, we shall rest,” he stifled a yawn.”

Snow fashioned a spot under the bridge into a makeshift bed for herself as the birds nested around her. “We can stop here for the night. No one should bother us.”

“What’s that?”

Snow felt a sharp poke in the side.

“Hair woven like the blackest silk.” A man’s gruff voice said to another— “the finest of silks.”

Snow had yet to open her eyes. She wondered if she was dreaming as she strained to listen.

“Have yet to see such an angel’s face.” The other whispered.

“Hogwash. You know what that means. She’s in our spot. Needs to leave. Wake her up…”

Snow bolted upright as Johnny, and the other birds came darting under the bridge in a pecking frenzy picking at the men’s faces.

“Serves you right staring at a sleeping woman. What were your intentions?”

“Rob me? Scare me?”

“No, Honest. We were just trying to wake you up. Startled us. This here is our bridge. Don’t get many-a-passersby.” The older of the men said.

“Well…”

“Well?” “Well what?” The older man replied…

“I’m looking for the Cousins Cottages…”

“Why would a precious girl like you be looking for a place like that?”

“I’m not quite sure, I was hoping to find that out for myself,” Snow replied, her head held high as she stared the strange man squarely in the face.

She was growing quite complacent with all this conversation and was itching to get back on the road.

“I was told to go there, take the left fork and head for the Cousin’s Cottages. Gerard told me so. I can’t imagine if this was supposed to be the friendlier way how the right side must be worse.”

“Well it is much, much worse, trust me.” A smaller, fatter man hissed as he jumped off a rock and scuttled passed Snow and ran down the embankment and back towards the road. That was when Snow realized the men were all much shorter than her. Even shorter than knee-height. Come-to-think-of-it, Gerard wasn’t that tall himself, comparatively speaking.

“How do you know Gerard?” Snow asked the men.

“Cousin,” they all replied in unison, barely giving her time to ask— “we could ask you the same.”

“Then I would answer the same,” a coy smile lit across Snow’s face with a crass cheekiness as the men gave a polite and understanding nod.

“But no, my dear, he really is our cousin. But I trust that if he sent you our way he thinks of you as family…so whatever you need… we will help you with.”

“That’s wonderful…” I’m sure he’s told you of our situation…” Snow replied with a short but intense stare.

“Ah…the witch.”

“Yeah, He’s told us all about your stepmother…”

“So, you must be the girl he tells us about, the one who can save them all from her?” the older cousin replied.

“I don’t quite see what’s so special about the girl, she is tiny, petite, angelic…couldn’t hurt a fly.” The crassest of the group of cousins whispered aloud to no one in particular, talking about Snow as though she wasn’t standing right there.

The older cousin huffed— “well you know what they say, you kill more with kindness than you do bitter. Maybe you should take heed. Besides, my dearest girl. Gerard has a special, special gift for sensing those in need. He didn’t send you all this way for not. Why don’t you follow us and get comfortable? We will make some dinner and send you on your way…who knows, maybe with a gift or two for your stepmother and her lovely daughters. But mind you, you have to really, really, really be certain this is what you want, because once you open this door you cannot go back to the way things were. Be certain. Be very, very certain little girl.”

Snow gulped, smiling widely as she nodded.

“Alright then, we will lead the way.”

Snow was surprised with how immaculate the men kept their tiny little homes. She could barely understand how she fit into them.

“Not to worry my dear. They expand to fit our guests of any size. It’s all a game of magic. Beds, walls, everything...” The elder cousin cooed as he handed Snow a fresh set of clothes to put on.

“How’d you know what size I would wear?”

“Just a guess, magic my dear…everything is magic.” He winked. “We washed your dirty ones as well so you have a pair to change into.”

“What’s your name?” Snow asked, curiously.

“We don’t do names. Better off that way.”

Snow smiled, slightly put off by the idea that the men were going to be strangers furthermore but she understood the rules as they were, but this business felt a little odd. How could she trust people she didn’t know at least on a first name basis?

“Alright…” she hesitated.

“Well, my dear hope you are hungry, made a special soup—our favorite—stewed meat and potatoes—for good-luck, fortune and prosperity. Been simmering all day.”

The most sumptuous smells hit Snows nose and in a second, she forgot all the troubles that were brewing in that little head of hers.

“If you must know,” the older man said after inhaling a big gulp of stew— “the name of the game is kindness. You are a sweet soul. I hate to corrupt you. Gerard really, really went back and forth with this for weeks on end. Bothered him to the core like a rotten apple it did. Messed with him. Couldn’t do it himself because his soul is already damaged. Has to be someone who is pure and easily redeemable. Someone like yourself. You are doing it for all the right reasons. You are doing it because you want to save your father, your Castle, yourself. You see the evil within your stepmom and her daughters…so here is how it happens…and it all starts with the seed of a beautifully decrepit apple.”

Snow furrowed her eyebrows, confused.

“A rotten apple? Like…a bad seed? I don’t get it…don’t bad seeds lead to bad apples?

“Ah, my dear, you catch on rather quickly. I like this one…” The elder cousin mused, slapping his hand gingerly on the table— “why yes, yes, WE don’t want the apple to be bad, people like me and you aren’t eating the apple but someone like your step-mother and step-sisters who are bad-seeds, they will eat the poisonous fruit of the bad seeds. If you catch my drift…that’s what we want. Bad seeds are easier to manipulate, easier to corrupt, easier to destroy, easier to get rid of.”

“I don’t want to kill her…” Snow gasped, taken aback even further by the idea.

“She’d do it to you without hesitating,” the elder cousin quipped, digging in for a third helping of stew. “I promise you that. We see it all the time.”

“So anyways, we will bake our poisons like a stew into that bad apple, seeds and all, simmering all the most wonderfully fragrant sugars and spices into the syrupy goodness. That’s only a part of the plan, the other part of the plan is have you deliver it to her. No one else can do that. It has to be you and it has to be given to her before the eve of the third day or else the poisons are rendered useless.”

Snow went into a limp pile at the bowl of soup in her chair.

“I can’t do that. She thinks I’m locked in the attic. Besides, she wouldn’t take a pie from me if I paid her.”

“We’ll arrange that…but using magic my dear. It’s a trick of the trade. That’s where Winhilda comes in, her twin cousins Matilda and Agatha often come down from their stoops to aid when needed. They can brew you up the proper concoction for the road.”

“So, what if someone else eats it on accident like my father…or what if she makes me eat take a bite first…”

“That’s the beauty of the magical poisons we create, it only affects those with a tainted soul, someone with purely evil intentions.”

“Just hope she doesn’t make Gerard taste test it…” one of the cousins said with a snide laugh.

Snow smiled uncomfortably, this wasn’t out of the realms of possibilities, knowing her stepmother—Gerard would be first in line for the guillotine.

“Besides, she won’t be able to resist my famous pie when I’m done. Just don’t unwrap it, whatever you do. Keep it as tightly wrapped as you can. I will make sure Winhilda, Matilda and Agatha accompany you to the Castle gates. We will only see you to the front of the bridge. The rest of the journey is up to you.”

Snow smiled, the cousins had been such wonderful help that she didn’t even register what the elder cousin had just said, why would she need to be accompanied. Couldn’t they just give her the potion and the pies and leave her be?

“How can I ever repay you?” Snow replied, hugging him tightly.

“Don’t worry about it, just keep in line with the plan and everything will work out, trust me,” the elder cousin murmured through a tersely lined smile.

“There’s just one more thing. You will need to do what the witches say. That’s a part of the deal you made…”

Snow smiled, slightly nodding her head, confused. What deal?

It was no worry now, they had much more comfortable digs now, a push cart with supplies—food for the road, a change of clothes, more company. A few pies for her stepmother and stepsisters. What could go wrong?

Snow held the book tightly into her pouch, unwilling to let either of the three witches know about it. She’d even told Johnny to keep quiet as he feigned being mute, instead fluttering above like a regular bird chirping and carrying on like the rest of them.

Deep inside the confines of her mind Snow knew what the elder cousin said had to be true—there was something over her head, another part of this deal that was going to fall back on her and be used against her. She now was in their debt, but for what? What would it cost her?

She would soon find out.

“Stop,” Winhilda hissed, her hand outstretched.

“The book…”

“The book?”

“Yes, the book Gerard gave you…”

Snow’s hand gripped to where the palm-sized book lay hidden in her pocket. Her eyes immediately looked up to Johnny and the other red-breasted bluebirds but it was as though they couldn’t be bothered.

“They’re all mute…won’t help you now. It’s no matter my dear. The dress is magic. What’s yours is mine.”

Winhilda smiled clutching tight to the skeleton key book. Snow gasped loudly unable to stop her.

“Now take a bite of my special spiced caramel, it will turn you into one of us.” Matilda cooed, handing Snow a piece of softened, sticky goo.

“One bite and you will be transformed.”

Snow reluctantly bit into the chewy morsel. A warm feeling overtook her sending a rush of leaves blowing past her through the rusted gates before turning into charred bits of dust.

“Let’s proceed ladies. Here is a pie for each of us. One for everyone in the house. No one leaves without a bite.”

Wearily Snow pushed through the open gates, each of the woman flanking her sides.

“I thought you were to stay at the gates like the older cousin said…”

“Change of plans,” Agatha said, a devious smile on her face.

The four women made it up the front castle steps, slowly marching in unison, pies in hand. Wafting smells of cinnamon, cardamom, sugar and spice for miles. Snow looked around unable to stop what she saw as far as the eye could see, plants and animals seemed to fall dead where they lie.

“What’s happening? I thought you said only those with evil intent would die…” Snow cried.

“Oh…that…I must’ve mixed the spell too strong…maybe read the wrong enchantment…besides, it’s too late now. We’re here now…”

A rabid look hung on Winhilda’s face as she eyed Snow.

“You haven’t seen my best work yet. Might want to get used to your new look.”

Snow stopped just short of the bubbled glass window where she caught her reflection, nearly passing out when the door opened to her own witchy features. Gerard’s weary face looked back just inches from her own.

He had to know what was happening, this was his whole plan after all, instead he looked rather amused. Poking his finger into the cake and pretending to choke.

“Who is it,” a sniveling voice shrieked from the parlor.

“I ordered you some pies,” Gerard called, inviting the four women in.

“Well, what are you waiting for, invite them in, get them some drinks, food, pull them up a chair. They are our guests after-all,” Tabitha demanded spitting over her own words as she sat fat and happy in her own over-stuffed chair.

“Will the lady of the house have first taste?” Winhilda offered, showing Tabitha Snow’s beautifully crafted ribbon laced apple pie.

“I made it myself, hand cut, hand-stuffed and hand-laced.” She-winked on that last part.

If only Tabitha knew.

Snow lowered the rather large pie down, practically sitting it into Tabitha’s lap, nearest her bosom. The pan was getting heavier as she held it, angling it for a better view wishing she would just hurry up already How hard could it be to make up her mind. They were after-all, all poisoned.

“Just pick one,” Snow hissed through her teeth, smiling. “They are all absolutely sumptuous.”

“What if I don’t like pie,” Tabitha moaned. “I despise it, detest it, loathe it…”

“Don’t like Pie?”

“Don’t like pie?!”

“No one had accounted for this…”

Everyone’s eyes directly went to Gerard. Even Snow who at this point didn’t even know what Tabitha ate. Gerard was the one who prepared all their meals, how could he not know the woman hated pie.

“Well…you like caramel…” Snow quipped.

“How would you know?” Tabitha screeched.

“Are you a witch? Are you spying on me?”

“No, no, everyone likes caramel. Caramel goes well on Apples and pie. That is the secret ingredient on our pies. They are baked into each bite of these pies. You will love it, these pies are to die for, I promise.”

Snow paused.

“See…. Gerard said you were a natural. Can’t give you up now…” Winhilda smiled, nudging Snow approvingly as Tabitha seemed to come around.

“Oh alright, if you insist. Maybe if you can serve it with some extra sauce on top…only then will I try a bite…one bite…”

“That’s all it takes…” Agatha added.

“Now, don’t you have some daughters or sons that might like to try some of this lovely pie. We didn’t bring all this here for not…”

“Well… my daughters are upstairs watching their figures…”

“Bring them down…apples are good for that, or so the doctors say…”

Pretty soon the entire house had withered away and all that was left was the four witches and Gerard. Snows father was nowhere in sight.

“Where could he be? Snow asked but Gerard hadn’t a clue. It would seem he had also disappeared and in turn Snow had lost everything she’d fought so hard to keep.

Be careful what you wish for