‘Ravens don’t come out here,’ Stumpy said. He didn’t break his pace, but his eyes darted upwards and his voice was low. Dreamy remembered when Stumpy had been a merrier soul who’d laughed and chatted as they’d worked, but four hours stuck beneath a rock slide, his hand crushed beside him and the dead bodies of four dwarves around him in the dark had changed him. Dreamy had been part of the rescue team. It was a day he would never forget. Stumpy had been screaming for at least an hour before he passed out. When he’d woken up, he was not the same. There were some things that changed you. This was as true as a first breath and a last, and that day had killed the dwarf who had been Dreamy’s best friend, even if he still walked, and talked, and mined. Perhaps one day the old Stumpy would return, but those shadows would never be entirely shaken free. Just as Dreamy would never shake off the sound of his screams.

‘What are they doing here?’ Stumpy kept his voice low. They were on the mountain now, and the guard would be watching. There was no love lost between those who mined and those who supervised. The men were nearly all there on punishment duties and they envied the dwarves their good health amid the dust.

‘Queen’s birds,’ a voice came from a team marching beside them. Dreamy looked round. The leader was rough-skinned and his face had a long scar running down one side. Belcher, Dreamy thought his name was. He’d been a warrior dwarf, a city dwarf. His songs were different to theirs and his team never smiled or broke ranks when they dug. Belcher’s team would not have got separated and allowed one of their own to lose a hand. Had the words come from any dwarf but him, Dreamy would have laughed them off. Instead, his guts chilled.

‘How do you know?’ Stumpy asked. Dreamy stayed quiet. Belcher respected Stumpy. He respected how he’d changed. Dreamy wondered what Belcher might have been like decades ago before the wars and then the mines changed him.

‘I hear talk. I still have friends among the soldiers. Those are charmed birds.’ His mouth barely moved as he grunted out the words and all of them kept their eyes ahead. ‘She sees through them. Watches the city. They’ve never left its limits before.’

‘What’s she looking for, do you reckon?’ Dreamy was impressed with Stumpy’s casual tone. He gripped his axe hard to stop his hands trembling. There was only one thing – one person – the queen could be looking for, and that was Snow White.

‘You tell me, Stumpy lad,’ Belcher said, wryly. ‘You tell me.’