That Risen Snow: A Scary Tale of Snow White and Zombies (Wattys 2014 Award Winner)

Chapter Three

Grouchy

SNOW AND BONES THROW themselves against the front and back doors, respectively, but both doors were built thick enough to withstand attacks from the bears that roam the surrounding forest. Still, the pounding resonates through the entire cottage and causes the pots and skillets hanging in the kitchen to tremble as if with fear.

“We’re doomed,” Coughy says.

“Shut up.” Grouchy rubs his temples and takes a deep breath of the cottage’s familiar scent of old wood, fresh bread, and dwarf sweat. Is it his imagination, or does Snow’s flowery aroma linger, too?

Coughy continues. “We’re ghunlichen. We’re too young to handle . . .” He wags his hands at the front and back doors. “. . . whatever this is.”

Saying no more, he runs to the kitchen and scrubs his hands in the sink. Nearby, Snoozy stands on the counter, rummaging through Bones’ herbs. Grouchy makes a mental note to keep an eye on Snoozy. Prison taught Grouchy how to spot someone with impure intentions—a skill necessary to survive those dangerous tunnels. Today, Snoozy’s intentions appear anything but pure.

“They’ll kill themselves if we don’t subdue them,” Grouchy says.

Merry flails his hands. “Subdue them? We’re safe in here. No, we stay in the cottage.”

The dwarfs’ cottage is made of wood, chopped mostly by Blushful from the nearby hillside and constructed by Bones, Grouchy, Blushful, and Dim. Snoozy and Coughy helped a bit as well, and Merry delegated a great deal. The first floor is one lodge-style room divided by furniture into a wide foyer at the front, a sitting area with couches and a fireplace at the rear, a cramped kitchen on one side, and dining area on the other. In the cottage’s center, a wooden staircase spirals upward to the second floor loft used as sleeping quarters. With its open space and dark wood, the cottage resembles a large underground cavern. Heavy shutters cover the few windows to block out light. Snoozy’s and Dim’s artwork decorates the walls, resembling the large murals painted by dwarfs so long ago in sacred caves.

The Collective’s cottage is located in the easternmost portion of the humans’ Eastern Kingdom, a region generally known as East-East. Here, the mountains scrape the sky. The rivers are silver knives carving the earth. The forests are thick and dark. The dwarfs’ home is in just such a forest, and no road leads here. Rather, on the other side of the nearest mountain, the Slithering River flows almost a half-day’s journey to the nearest town, a sleepy lumberjack village called Abundance. The village doctor is rumored to have knowledge of magic.

“We must take them to Dr. Killington in Abundance,” Grouchy says. He hates the idea that they need help from a human, but Snow’s safety trumps hatred.

Merry shakes his head. “He couldn’t help her when she was asleep. What makes you think he can help her now that she’s biting and hissing like a rabid cat?”

The rotund dwarf’s pronunciation is too distinct, too crisp—like a member of the higher dwarf families who turned against their fellow dwarfs in exchange for scraps of power and privilege from humans. His father’s probably a mayor or prison chief—a far cry from Grouchy’s own father.

“Killington said to come if Snow’s condition changed. I’d call this a big damn change.”

“They’re vicious monsters, Grouchy. Whatever curse has afflicted them, for all we know, it’ll run its course by sunset. We have no business capturing them.”

“Would you do nothing, you ass? Sit with our toes up our butts and rub each other’s gemstones?”

“We need to remain calm,” Merry says, now fiddling with that damn lucky rock of his. “Our first priority should be—”