CHAPTER FIFTEEN HEIGH-HO, HEIGH-HO, TO SNOW COUNTRY WE GO
“Next time, I’m totally adding like two more layers of fleece to our jackets,” Gretel says, shivering.
“Is it just me or did it drop like ten degrees in the last ten steps?” Alistair adds.
“Drama queens!” Filomena laughs. “After all we’ve been through, we can’t let our downfall be the cold, can we?”
Though she’s trying to keep spirits high, Filomena has to admit that the cold is getting a bit out of hand. And the sun is starting to set on the snowy landscape.
“We’re almost at the border of Snow Country,” Jack says. “Once we cross over, I say we find somewhere to rest and call it a night.”
“You know what invention would be really great for Never After?” Gretel asks. “A service that, when you’re on a quest, you can use to book a room to stay in ahead of time. You know, Fil, like in the mortal world? Nice elves and woodland creatures could rent out their spare rooms for weary travelers like us!”
“And what money would we use to pay for that? Do you have a stack of gold lying around, Gretel? Have you been holding out on us?” Jack laughs.
“They should pay us!” Gretel adds. “We’re saving their butts from the ogres! If I ever run for prime minister of any kingdom, I’m totally going to use that in my platform. Free room and board for heroes!”
Filomena chuckles.
“That would be a popular campaign, but only if the ogres weren’t in power. And eventually, hopefully, there won’t be a need for heroes anymore,” Beatrice says.
Jack looks uncomfortable.
“What is it, Jack?” Filomena asks.
“I always feel weird about the title hero. Don’t you? It just feels presumptuous.”
Byron pipes in: “For what it’s worth, from where I’m standing, rescuing me from a curse and returning my mother and me to our real forms are pretty heroic acts. Especially when risking your life to do so.” Byron does a formal little bow.
Jack is ready to change the subject. He shivers. “So, Byron and Beatrice, you went to Bali for your honeymoon, right? It’s hot there, isn’t it? Can you tell us about it? Describe it in very precise detail. Just how warm was it?”
They all laugh, and Beatrice and Byron gladly tell them about Bali.
An hour or so later, everyone is deep in daydreams of hot sandy beaches and luscious fruit drinks. They can almost forget the frigid temperatures they’re walking through. But the ground is gradually becoming more and more packed with snow. The sun is half-set now, just a blazing semicircle on the horizon. Before them, as far as the eye can see, are rolling hills covered with glistening white blankets of snow. Pine trees the size of buildings stretch upward, grand and evergreen.
“It’s so beautiful,” Filomena whispers.
Jack smiles at her. “Welcome to Snow Country.”
They soon spy a snowy pathway that snakes between the rows of pines. They begin to follow it, but sharp icicles suddenly stick out over the path from either side, blocking the way.
“What the…?” Alistair starts.
A voice echoes loudly through the trees. “WHO GOES THERE?” it booms. “AND WHAT INTENTIONS HAVE YOU IN ENTERING SNOW COUNTRY?”
The group all looks at one another. What now?
Jack steps forward, a hand resting lightly on the hilt of his Dragon’s Tooth sword. “We come to Snow Country in peace. We’ve been summoned by allies.” Jack is unsure if he should mention exactly which allies. After all, he has no idea who this voice belongs to. And, these days, there are many sides in Never After.
Several voices start whispering to one another through the trees. They exchange expressions of confusion. Everyone is on guard, hands on sword hilts, ready to fight if necessary. Filomena catches a few phrases, like Dragon’s Tooth sword and cool earmuffs and princess. Then the voices all hush.
Jack looks to Filomena and they exchange a silent agreement: They’re ready for combat. Suddenly from either side of the pathway emerge several huge figures, each wearing a pointed velvet hat. Filomena tenses. Giants!
“ATTACK!” one says.
Before they can regain their bearings, the group of travelers is ambushed. The giants’ weapons of choice are icicles, which are surprisingly sharp. Every one of them is suddenly engaged in one-to-one combat and has to stretch high in order to fight properly.
“Wait!” Beatrice cries, midswing against an icicle. “We aren’t invaders! We’re just looking for my cousin Rose Red!”
As soon as Beatrice utters those words, the giants drop their icicles and start smiling. Jack, however, is caught up in the fight and bodychecks one giant even after they’ve already withdrawn their weapon.
“Hey! What the heck, man?” the giant yells, though Jack barely bumped their hip.
“Oh, my apologies.” Jack reddens, now seeing that everyone else has finished fighting.
Beatrice continues her plea: “You don’t happen to know seven dwarves who live with my cousin Rose Red, do you?”
A giant, this one in a yellow hat, chimes in, scratching his head. “Did you just say DWARVES who live with Rose Red? Why, that be us!”
“Dwarves? But you’re giants!” Alistair points out.
“Exactly!” says the leader. “We’re Dwayne’s Army of Really Very Extra-Large Soldiers. Or, you know, DWARVES for short.”
“Who’s Dwayne?”
“Me,” says one. “But they call me Cap.”
These huge giants live with Rose Red? Filomena counts: There are seven of them. Can it be? She gives Jack a look, and he shrugs. Then she thinks back to all the other times she’s encountered fairy-tale figures. They’re almost never what she’s been led to believe. So the seven dwarves are actually … seven giants?
“You’re Rose Red’s family?” one of the giants asks.
“Well, just two of us,” Beatrice says, motioning to herself and Gretel. “But the rest of these people are our dear friends, and we’re all traveling together! We actually came to Snow Country partly to find Rose Red.”
The giants look at one another. “Counsel!” one in a red hat shouts. They huddle together and begin whispering feverishly. It’s a charming sight, these seven creatures, each eleven feet tall and with a cute velvet hat in a different color, deliberating. Filomena catches the words hungry and fire. She’s not sure if these words are a good sign or not.
The giants unfurl from their cluster and straighten, then size up Filomena and the group. “We aren’t sure about you lot,” says a giant in a purple hat and with a low, gruff voice. “It’s hard to trust travelers these days.”
“You look quite cold,” Gretel says. “I can make you all some nice warm clothes, if you’d like.”
The giants look at one another, considering, seemingly pleased by this offer.
“Nice, Gretel,” Jack says. “Who knew your seamstress skills could be a bartering tool?”
Gretel realizes something: “Oh, not that Rose Red isn’t already making you warm clothes. I’ve never met her, but I’m sure she’s quite good with needle and thread.”
At this, the giants bust out laughing. They laugh so hard, tears stream from their eyes. Gretel looks to the group as if to ask, What did I say?
The giant in the yellow hat wipes his eyes. “Oh no, dear, Rose Red couldn’t sew a stitch if her life depended on it!”
“Well then,” Gretel continues, “we need a place to stay tonight, and we’d really like to see Rose Red. If you take us to her, I’ll be glad to make you some proper winter coats.”
Several of the giants are looking at the giant in the red hat—Dwayne, aka Cap, Filomena thinks—and nodding encouragingly.
“Come on, Cap,” one says shyly. “You know we’re freezin’ out here on our patrol shifts.”
Cap seems to consider this. “All right. But we need to be absolutely certain of which side you’re on. If you know what I mean.”
Filomena gets an idea. It seems risky, but she can see actual ice crystals starting to form on Alistair’s eyelashes. They need to get inside pronto. And if they’re going to trust these giants enough to sleep at their house, then they have to be trustworthy enough and show their alliances.
It’s decided, then. Filomena takes a moment to flash a light on her forehead and mutter the words her aunt taught her, and then steps forward to let the mark of Carabosse shine from her forehead. The moon and the stars that surround it glow brightly and and cast a warm light onto the giants. They look at her in awe.
“Carabosse,” the yellow-hatted giant says softly.
“All right, all right, that’s enough.” Cap waves at her. “Turn that thing off. We get it—you’re with the fairies. Good, good. Well, on to home, then! Our shift’s over, it’s almost nightfall, and you’re our final travelers for the day. Let’s get you lot cozied up by the fire.”
The kids almost faint at hearing that last sentence. Filomena laughs to herself, thinking how fire is one of those funny, remarkable things. It’s terrifying when launched by an ogre but sounds absolutely divine when offered by a gentle giant or, you know, a member of Dwayne’s Army of Really Very Extra-Large Soldiers.