“Or beds,” said Brother Number Eight.

“Or beds,” agreed Brother Number One, “then everything will be fine. It’s just that none of us is getting any younger, and now it would be nice to take things a bit easier and perhaps treat ourselves to some luxuries.”

The dwarfs looked at Snow White snoring in her chair, and all of them sighed as one.

“Actually, we’re hoping to bribe someone to take her off our hands,” admitted Brother Number One at last.

“You mean, pay someone to marry her?” asked David.

“He’d have to be really desperate, of course, but we’d make it worth his while,” said Brother Number One. “Well, I’m not sure there are enough diamonds in the whole land to make living with her worthwhile, but we’d give him a pile to ease the burden. He could buy some really nice earplugs, and a really big bed.”

By now some of the dwarfs were nodding off. Brother Number One took a long stick and nervously approached Snow White.

“She doesn’t like being woken up,” he explained to David. “We find this is easiest for everyone.”

He poked at Snow White with the end of the stick. Nothing happened.

“I think you’ll have to do it harder,” said David.

This time, the dwarf hit Snow White a good, strong prod. It seemed to work, because she instantly grabbed the stick and gave it a sharp tug, almost flicking Brother Number One straight into the fireplace before he remembered to let go and landed in the coal scuttle instead.

“Unk,” said Snow White. “Arfle.”

She wiped some drool from her mouth, rose from her chair, and staggered to her bedroom. “Bacon in the morning,” she said. “Four eggs. And a sausage. No, make that eight sausages.”

With that, she slammed the door behind her, fell on her bed, and was immediately sound asleep.

David sat curled up in the chair by the fire. The house rumbled with the snoring of Snow White and the dwarfs, a complex arrangement of snorts, whistles, and dusty coughs. David thought of the Woodsman, and the trail of blood leading into the woods. He remembered Leroi, and the look in the Loup’s eyes. David knew that he could not afford to remain with the dwarfs for longer than one night. He had to keep moving. He had to make his way to the king.

He got up from his chair and walked to the window. He could see nothing outside, so thick and heavy was the darkness. He listened, but he could hear only the hooting of an owl. He had not forgotten what had brought him to this place, but his mother’s voice had not come to him again since he had entered the new world. Only if she called to him would he be able to find her.

“Mum,” he whispered. “If you’re out there, I need your help. I can’t find you if you don’t guide me.”

But there was no reply.

He went back to his chair and closed his eyes. He fell asleep and dreamed of his bedroom at home, and of his father and his new family, but they were not alone in the house. In his dream, the Crooked Man stalked the hallway until he came to Georgie’s bedroom, where he stood for a long time looking at the child before departing the house and returning to his own world.

SNOW WHITE was still snoring in her bed when David and the dwarfs departed the next morning, and the spirits of the little men seemed to lift significantly the farther behind they left her. They walked with him as far as the white road, then they all stood around rather awkwardly as everyone tried to find the best way to say good-bye.

“We can’t tell you where the mine is, obviously,” said Brother Number One.

“Obviously,” said David. “I quite understand.”

“Because it’s secret, like.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Don’t want every Tom, Dick, and Harry snooping around it.”

“That seems very sensible.”

Brother Number One tugged pensively at his ear.

“It’s just beyond the big hill on the right,” he said quickly. “There’s a trail that leads up to it. It’s well-hidden, mind, so you’ll need to keep watching out for it. It’s marked by an eye carved in a tree. At least, we think it’s carved. You never can tell with those trees. Just in case, you know, you ever need a little company.”

His face brightened. “Ha!” he said. “A ‘little company’! See what I did there? You know, a little company, like friends, and a little company, like a band of dwarfs. See?”

David did see, and laughed dutifully.

“Now remember,” said Brother Number One, “if you come across a prince or a young nobleman, in fact if you see anyone who looks desperate enough to marry a big woman for money, you send him to us, right? Make sure he waits on this road until we appear. We don’t want him making his own way to the cottage and, well, you know…”

“Being scared off,” finished David for him.

“Yes, quite. Well, good luck, and stay on the road. There’s a village a day or two from here, and there’s bound to be someone there who can help you on your way, but don’t be tempted to stray from the path, no matter what you see. There’s a lot of nasty things in these woods, and they have their ways of luring folk into their clutches, so mind how you go.”

And with that the little company of the little company was lost to David as the dwarfs disappeared into the forest. He heard them singing a song as they marched, one that Brother Number One had made up for them as they went on their way to work. It didn’t have much of a tune, and Brother Number One seemed to have encountered some difficulty in finding suitable rhymes for “collectivization of labor” and “oppression by the capitalist running dogs,” but David was still sad when the song faded away and he was left alone on the silent road.

He had quite liked the dwarfs. He often had no idea what they were talking about, but for a group of homicidal, class-obsessed small people, they were really rather good fun. After they left him, he felt very alone. Although this was clearly a major road, David appeared to be the only person traveling upon it. Here and there he found traces of others who had passed that way-the remains of a fire, now long cold; a leather strap, gnawed at one end by a hungry animal-but that was as close as it appeared he was going to come to another human being that day. The constant twilight, which altered significantly only early in the morning and late in the evening, sapped his energy and subdued his spirits, and he found his attention drifting. At times, he seemed to fall asleep on his feet, for he had flashes of dreams, visions in which Dr. Moberley stood over him and seemed to be speaking to him, and periods of darkness during which he thought that he heard his father’s voice. Then he would awaken suddenly as his feet strayed from the path, his legs almost tangling beneath him as he moved from stone to grass.

He realized that he was very hungry. He had eaten with the dwarfs that morning, but now his stomach was rumbling and aching. There was still food in his pack, and the dwarfs had added to his supplies a little by giving him some pieces of dried fruit, but he had no idea how far he might have to travel before he reached the castle of the king. Even the dwarfs were of no help there. As far as David could tell, the king didn’t have very much to do with the running of his kingdom at all. Brother Number One told David that someone had once come to the cottage claiming to be a royal tax collector, but after an hour in the company of Snow White, he left without his hat and never returned again. The only facts about the king that Brother Number One could confirm were that there was a king (probably) and that there was a castle, somewhere at the end of the road upon which David was traveling, although Brother Number One had never seen it. And so David walked on, his mind drifting, his stomach hurting, and the road glowing whitely before him.