The Snow Queen's shadow

CHAPTER 11

Talia stood in ankle-deep snow at the edge of the river, examining the skeletal birches on the opposite bank. “You said you’d be able to find the witch’s cabin once we reached the river.”

“I only came here once.” Gerta paced along the shore. “Rather, Snow came here, but she imagined I was with her. To give her courage. She was nine years old, and was finally starting to believe some of the rumors about our mother. Snow followed her, hoping to learn the truth. Mother left the capital and headed east, following the river. I remember Noita’s cabin being near the shore…”

“Near the shore of which river?” Talia scowled at the second, smaller stream, which veered away at an angle from the first. The wolf’s senses were no help, since she didn’t know what exactly she should be tracking.

Gerta cupped her eyes and peered at the sun. “I only saw the outside, but it was a small cabin, probably one room. The windows were colored glass, square panes of blue and red. I remember the smell of flowers, and two oak trees that grew to either side of the door. They reminded me of soldiers guarding the entrance.”

“We could split up,” Danielle suggested. “If we each follow one fork-”

Talia brushed the black fur of her cape. “This cape is the only thing stopping Snow from finding us. We stay together.”

“Maybe someone else should take a turn wearing that,” Gerta suggested. “You’ve been fighting the wolf’s influence for a long time without rest.”

“I’m fine,” Talia snapped. “Or I will be as soon as you find the damned witch.”

Gerta smiled. “You see what I mean? That was testy, even for you.”

Talia started to respond, but caught herself. Gerta was right. The magic of the cape gave her strength and speed, but at a cost. She wanted to hunt, to fight. “So how do we find it?”

“I was created from magic and memories.” Gerta kicked a chunk of snow into the water. “I need to relive that memory.”

“How?” asked Danielle.

Gerta unfastened the clasp of her cloak and handed it to Talia. “We were cold. Snow hadn’t thought to bring extra clothes, and she was afraid to try magic, for fear that our mother would notice.”

The back of Talia’s neck tingled, and a burning smell indicated the presence of magic as Gerta paced a wide circle. Gerta traced her footsteps a second time, then a third, until a shadow began to form in the center.

Each pass solidified the illusion, painting a young girl with long black hair and cheeks red from cold. Talia’s chest tightened as she recognized a much younger Snow White. She wore a thick blue dress, but her hands were bare, and she clutched her arms over her chest for warmth.

“Stay down,” hissed the young Snow. “Do you want her to see us?”

Gerta crouched low, peering upstream at something Talia couldn’t see. “Where do you think she’s going?”

Snow flashed a gap-toothed grin up at Gerta. “Why? Are you scared?”

“I’m not!”

“You’re afraid she’ll throw you into a pot and boil the flesh from your bones, aren’t you?” Snow poked Gerta’s shoulder. “Then she’ll raise you from the dead and make you dance every night, nothing but a skeleton with your bones clattering against the floor.”

Danielle stepped closer. “She was a morbid child, wasn’t she?”

“Look who raised her,” said Talia.

Gerta appeared not to notice them as she huddled beside Snow, shivering. “I don’t want her to lock us away again.”

“She can’t punish us if we don’t get caught!” Snow cupped her hands to her mouth and blew, then jammed them back beneath her armpits. “She’s probably just collecting ingredients for a potion, or something like that.”

“Alone in the woods?” Gerta asked. “In the middle of winter?”

“Maybe she’s discovered a fairy plot,” Snow said eagerly. “She could be disguising herself as one of them to learn their secrets.”

“There are no fairies in Allesandria,” Gerta said primly.

Snow stuck out her tongue. “Shows what you know. I saw a pixie in the sky just last month.”

“Did not.”

“I did so!” Snow punched Gerta in the arm. “Come on, before we lose her.”

They hurried upstream, following the larger branch of the river until they reached a stone bridge. Snow raced across, stopping only to toss a rock into the water. She and Gerta laughed and shushed each other as they ran through the woods.

The horses followed behind them, staying close to Danielle. Talia searched the trees, but the woods were quiet, save for the occasional crow.

“Maybe she’s not even human,” Snow said. “Maybe she’s a monster who plans to eat us both!” Her laughter gave the lie to her fears, though Gerta appeared worried.

Snow and Gerta led them to a small clearing at a bend in the stream. The air was warmer here, and the snow was little more than a thin crust over the branches. The cabin was built back from the water, hidden by a thick grove of pines. The smell of magic made Talia’s nose wrinkle. It smelled like old perfume, cloying and stale.

Snow dragged her sister down to crouch behind a fallen tree. Following their gazes, Talia could just make out a shadowy figure approaching the cabin door. Gerta’s memory of Rose Curtana was tall and imposing, her body held straight as steel, her chin tilted upward.

Snow waited until her mother went inside, then tugged Gerta’s hand. “Come on, let’s go around back. Maybe there’s a window.”

Gerta began to tremble. “We should leave.”

“Don’t be such a polatto.”

“Polatto?” Danielle whispered.

“Morovan slang for a coward,” said Talia. “It means tail-flasher, after the deer who run away at the slightest sound.”

Gerta yanked her hand away. “I don’t want to see what’s back there.”

“I’m going.” Snow stood and stepped out from the trees.

Gerta’s voice rose. “Snow, please!”

Talia grabbed Gerta by the shoulder. “It’s just a memory.” Gerta stared through her, her eyes round. “Gerta, you’ve found it. You can end the spell.”

Gerta shrieked. Talia slapped a palm over her mouth. The illusory Snow White had already vanished behind the cabin.

Danielle caught Gerta’s arms. “Gerta, it’s us.”

“Wrap the edge of my cape around her,” Talia snapped.

Danielle did so, and the worst of Gerta’s trembling started to die as the cape’s magic shielded her from her own illusions. Gerta spun, burying her face in Talia’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Gerta said.

Talia watched the cabin, but the door hadn’t opened. If Noita was still here, hopefully she hadn’t heard Gerta’s aborted scream.

“What happened?” asked Danielle, her voice gentle.

“We snuck around to the back, making our way to Noita’s garden.” The worst of the panic had faded, but Gerta clung to Talia like a child woken from a nightmare. “There were three bodies, laid out in shallow graves. I thought Mother was helping Noita to bury them, but-” Another shudder cut off the rest of her words.

“You’re safe,” Danielle said. “You found the cabin.”

Gerta pulled away. “I’m sorry.” She turned toward the cabin. “I wanted to run away, but Snow stayed. She watched… we both did.”

A growl built in Talia’s chest. She yanked her sword from her belt and strode into the clearing. There was no light through the windows, nor smoke from the chimney. The steeply angled roof came almost to the ground. Dirt and frost obscured most of the color.

Brown ivy strangled the knee-high stumps that dotted the small yard. A pair of skeletal oaks, each an arm’s length in diameter, stood to either side of the door.

“Are you certain this witch is still alive?” Talia asked.

“Even if she’s not, there might be something inside that can help us,” Danielle said. “She was a friend of Rose Curtana, after all.”

The door creaked open. Talia stepped closer, sword ready.

The woman who emerged appeared to be in worse shape than her home. Layers of clothes and quilted blankets made her look like a shambling pile of mismatched laundry. Dirty laundry. Tangled white hair hung past her shoulders. Her face sagged loosely on her skull. Red-stained fingers clutched a thick wooden crutch as she limped into the yard. Talia could smell her magic from here, like moldy leaves in late autumn.

“Ermillina Curtana,” she breathed, studying Gerta as though she were a painter’s masterpiece. “Never imagined I’d see you again. What have you done to your hair, child?”

Gerta glanced at Talia as if for reassurance before answering. “Ermillina is my sister.”

“You’d trespass on my land and lie to my face?” Noita clucked her tongue as she examined Gerta, who flinched. “For a princess, you’ve no manners whatsoever. I pulled you from your mother’s loins, girl. These hands cut the cord and wiped you down. I know you.”

“Gerta’s telling the truth,” said Talia.

Gerta stepped closer to Talia. “My name is Rose Gertrude Curtana. I am Snow’s sister. Sort of.”

“The old queen had only the one child. Someone lied to you about your parentage, girl. Go home. There’s nothing for you here.”

“Did my mother bring you the bodies for your garden?” Gerta was hiding her fear the best she could, though Talia could hear the faint quaver in her voice. “Did she kill them for you, or did you cut their throats before laying them out in the earth?”

“What bodies?” Noita demanded, too quickly. “What stories have you been listening to?”

“I saw you.” Gerta’s courage seemed to grow as Noita shrank back. “Snow brought me. We watched as you planted your seeds in their bodies, pushing them deep into the flesh. Snow… she knew one of the boys, from the palace”

Noita sighed, sagging inward to lean more heavily on her crutch. “That was a long time ago. A different time.” She shoved tangled hair from her face. “You do share her features…”

“I am Snow’s sister.”

Noita hobbled closer and reached out with one hand. “May I?”

Talia raised her sword in warning. Danielle drew her own weapon.

“I’ll not hurt the girl. I only want to understand who she is.”

Gerta nodded, but stayed close to Talia. Talia’s nose wrinkled at the sharp scent of spellcasting.

Noita grunted in surprise. “Well that’s impressive.”

“What is?” demanded Talia.

Noita stepped back. “There are spells to split the soul, to send a part of yourself away. Dangerous, but useful for sending messages, digging out secrets, and so on. I’ve never heard of anyone casting such spells in quite this fashion, though.”

“Snow liked to bend the rules,” Talia said.

“Little Snow White,” Noita whispered. “Not so little anymore, I imagine. I’ve not seen her in a lifetime. I’ve often wondered what became of her after she murdered her mother.”

“Murdered?” Talia’s hand tightened around the worn leather grip of her sword. “Rose Curtana ordered her killed. She hunted Snow down, murdered the man Snow loved, and would have done the same to her.”

“Yet when they faced one another, Snow White was the one to walk away. How did she manage that? The girl had talent, but lacked discipline. Even with the best of luck, to defeat a witch like Rose. ..” Noita clucked her tongue.

“Snow beat her twice,” Talia said. “The first time, she killed Rose’s body. The second, Snow banished her spirit. Luck was not a factor.”

“Luck is always a factor.” Noita hunched her shoulders, her head poking forward like a turtle’s as she turned her attention to Talia. She poked her crutch at Talia’s cape. “What do you want from me?”

Talia swatted the crutch away.

“Please,” said Danielle. “We need your help.” Her words were slow, her tongue stumbling over the foreign words. She was far from fluent, but knew enough of the language to make herself understood.

“What do you know of Rose Curtana’s magic mirror?” asked Gerta.

“Ah.” Noita rested both hands on her crutch. Her body slumped, making her appear even older. “I should have known. You’d best come inside.”

Talia went in first. If this was a trap, she had the best chance of overpowering it.

Noita stopped to stomp her feet on a woven mat in the doorway. Her home was small and sparsely furnished, but had a cozy feel. Thick blue curtains covered the windows. The fire in the hearth crackled merrily, but without smoke. Split firewood lined the wall beside the hearth, making Talia wonder where it had come from. Noita certainly didn’t look strong enough to gather it herself. Dried flowers hung from the ceiling. A few of the withered, papery petals fell to the floor as Noita shut the door behind them.

With four people, there was barely room to stand. Noita made her way to a rocking chair beside the fireplace, the only chair in the cabin. A square wooden table sat against the wall, a bowl of ripe cherries near the edge. A scattering of pits and stems explained the dark red stains on Noita’s fingertips. “Please, help yourself.”

Gerta started toward the table, but Talia caught her arm. “Ripe fruit in the middle of winter?”

Noita smiled. “You thought witchcraft was only good for cursing beautiful maidens?” She popped a cherry into her mouth and spat the seed onto the table. “So Snow White took her mother’s mirror when she fled Allesandria. And now it’s turned on her, yes?”

“She’s taken my son,” said Danielle.

“Never trusted that mirror.” Noita pursed her lips. “Rose believed she could control it. She was arrogant. Convinced she was smarter and stronger than everyone else. Usually she was, but not this time. That mirror killed her, you know.”

“What do you mean?” asked Gerta.

“ ‘ Who’s the fairest of them all?’ A simple enough question, right?” Noita bit another cherry, and a rivulet of dark juice ran down her chin. She blotted it on her sleeve. “It’s a matter of opinion though, isn’t it? A farm boy looks at his first love and proclaims her the most beautiful woman in the world. An educated city man looks at her and sees a bumpkin, plain and dirty. Was young Snow White truly the fairest in all the land? Some might say so, but what does a mirror know of beauty? Why did it choose her, unless it knew what would come of that choice?”

Talia rested her hands on the edge of the table, which creaked from her weight. “We know about the demon.”

Noita’s voice was distant. “I warned Rose against it, but she wanted the power. We never should have brought that damned creature into this world. It’s broken free, hasn’t it?”

“It took Snow,” said Danielle.

“Then Snow White is gone.” Noita’s words, spoken so matter-of-factly, burrowed into Talia’s chest.

“You helped my mother imprison the demon,” Gerta said.

“Yes, though the price was a blot on both our souls.” She rolled another cherry between her fingers. “I’ve no doubt it remembers what I did.” She sighed and sank back in her chair. The creak of her rocking was the only sound, until Talia thought she might have fallen asleep.

“Noita?” Gerta asked.

“I warned her,” Noita said. “This was no lesser creature, but a true demon, all but immortal. Her mirror was a thing of genius, but it couldn’t endure forever. I looked to the future, and I saw what would happen when that mirror failed.”

“What did you see?” asked Talia.

“My death.” Noita licked her lips, and her gaze flicked to the back door of the cabin. “Fire and chaos. Death and madness, spreading throughout Allesandria. Even working together, Rose and I barely had the strength to trap the demon. Now that it’s free, with Ermillina’s power added to its own, I can’t-”

“She took my son,” Danielle interrupted. “You helped bring this creature into our world. You will help us to stop it.”

Noita started to answer, then sighed. “You’re right. I was part of the ritual. I share the responsibility.” She rose and moved to the rear of the cabin. Wood scraped against wood as she pulled open the back door, revealing a view so different Talia thought she might be looking through a magical portal.

A thin layer of snow crusted a grass path through a flower garden in full bloom. Delicate violets circled a stand of cherry trees. Lilies and snapdragons swayed together in the wind. Sunflowers as tall as Talia bordered the doorway like guardsmen. The smell of magic made her eyes water.

The plants seemed unaffected by the cold. Not a single leaf or petal marred the ground. The snow crunched beneath Talia’s feet as she followed Noita into the garden. Talia paused after a few steps, remembering what Gerta had said. How many bodies had fertilized these seeds?

“It’s too still.” Danielle was looking about. “There are no animals. No insects. It’s like a painting or a sculpture, an imitation of the real thing.”

“Imitation? Pah.” Noita limped to the center of the garden. “Flowers wither and die at the first touch of frost. Trees shed their leaves, sleeping through winter. This is better. My magic flows through this garden, giving it the strength to survive. This garden is as well-protected as the king’s palace.”

“They’re magical.” Gerta pressed thumb and forefinger to a sunflower’s stalk. “Each flower is enchanted, fed by the flesh and blood of the dead.”

“All plants feed on the dead, absorbing their strength. It’s the natural course of things.” Noita leaned against an apple tree and rubbed her leg. “You’ve seen the mirror, the vines worked into the platinum frame? That was my magic, strengthening the mirror’s hold. But the spells were Rose’s. Even then, I wasn’t strong enough to imprison this demon on my own.”

Talia’s eyes were still blurry, and her nose had begun to drip. The floral smell of magic was thick as smoke. It was as bad as being in Snow’s library when she was experimenting with new perfumes.

“You helped Rose,” Gerta protested, covering a yawn with one hand. “You have to know the spells she used. I could work with you to-”

“Your mother was always possessive of her secrets. You think she would share this kind of power, even with me?” Noita hobbled to a small stone bench, all but hidden by green, teacup-shaped flowers Talia didn’t recognize. “The fruits of this garden have shown me the future. I foresaw your visit weeks ago, all save your wolf-clad friend. And I’ve seen what happens if we try to fight this demon.”

Talia started forward, but something tugged her leg. Thorns tore her trousers as rose vines spiraled up her calf. She pulled harder, trying to wrench the vine from the earth.

Gerta had already collapsed, asleep. Danielle managed a single step, but the vines clung to her leg. She swung her glass blade through one of the vines, and then the sword slipped from her grasp and she fell.

Talia ripped her leg loose, even as more roses reached up to grab her other foot. A swing of her sword sent rose blossoms tumbling to the ground.

The hell with this. Talia stabbed the sword into the dirt, pulled a dagger, and flipped it in her hand to throw.

“Kill me, and they’ll never awaken,” Noita warned. “The spell that holds them in sleep can drag them down into death just as easily.”

White flowers tinged with pink covered the branches of the apple tree. Those flowers hadn’t been in bloom when they first entered the garden. That tree was the source of Noita’s spell.

A growl built in Talia’s chest. Those were apple blossoms. “Snow’s mother paralyzed her with a poisoned apple. She got that apple from you, didn’t she.”

Noita shrugged. “There are many poisons-”

“Poisons that work with the first bite? That could overcome Snow before she cast a single spell? I know poisons, witch. None work so quickly.” Another vine caught her wrist. Talia jerked free, barely feeling the thorns that bloodied her skin. Had Noita been close enough, Talia would have snapped her neck with her bare hands.

“Snow is gone.” Noita stood, jabbing her crutch at Talia. “You should be more concerned about the friends you have left. Surrender that cape, or they die.”

That cape was the only thing protecting her from Noita’s magic. Talia bared her teeth, but hesitated. The others’ breathing had grown shallower. Noita wasn’t bluffing.

Talia dropped the knife and reached up to unfasten the red cape. The vines now trapped her legs up to her thighs. She yanked the cape free of the thorns. In a single motion, she reversed the cape and pulled it tight around her body, so the wolf’s fur was on the outside.

Pain crushed her body, forcing her to her hands and knees. Thorns stabbed her skin as her limbs reshaped themselves into those of the wolf. She snarled, tugging and jerking as the vines tried to close around her. New strength pumped through her legs. She ripped one of her rear legs free, then twisted to bite the vines holding the other. With a snarl, she lunged forward, tearing the last few vines from the earth.

She crossed the garden in an eyeblink, knocking Noita backward over the bench. Before Noita could do more than open her mouth, Talia’s fangs were upon her neck.

The wolf was fully roused now, urging Talia to clamp down and rip out the witch’s throat, to kill her for her betrayal and for what she had done to Snow all those years ago. Instead, Talia simply snarled.

Noita’s eyes were huge. Withered fingers grabbed Talia’s muzzle, trying without success to force the jaws open. Rose vines punched through the earth, twining their way up Talia’s legs. Talia bit harder, tasting blood.

Noita made a squeaking sound and raised her hands in surrender. She gestured toward the apple tree, and Talia saw the blossoms begin to close.

The others woke as swiftly as they had fallen. Danielle grabbed her sword and walked over to place the tip at Noita’s throat. “We need her alive, Talia.”

Danielle’s words, spoken without sound, pierced the wolf’s rage. Grudgingly, Talia backed away, licking blood from her chops. She sat back on her haunches and used her teeth to dig at the seams of the wolfskin, peeling it from her body. The process was a painful one, but it was the sound that bothered her the most. Joints popped and bones ground together, until Talia was herself again, curled on her side and panting for breath. She used one hand to switch the cape back around, wrinkling her nose at the smell of wolf sweat.

“My visions have shown me what’s to come,” Noita said despondently. “What the demon will do to this land. What it will do to me if it discovers I’ve helped you.”

“So you’d do nothing?” Danielle asked. “You’d watch as this thing you helped bring into our world now seeks to conquer it? You saw Rose Curtana’s cruelty. Imagine Allesandria under the rule of a demon queen.”

Noita’s hands shook. “I told Rose what could happen if this thing were to escape. With Snow’s power added to its own…”

Talia retrieved her weapons. “What does the demon want?”

“Fear. Chaos. Death.” Noita started to rise, but Danielle’s sword remained at her neck, keeping her in place. “This is a creature of hell, a torment meant for the damned. I saw Rose after she bound the demon. It touched her only briefly, but that one touch haunted her. She was never a kind woman, but the demon sapped any remaining joy from her soul.”

Talia thought back to the last time she had seen Snow, at Whiteshore Palace. The demon had crushed the merriment from her eyes, carving away her happiness and leaving her hollow. How long would it take her to rebuild herself, once this demon was destroyed?

Anger surged through her, and this time she didn’t fight. She gave herself to the wolf, shoving past Danielle to seize Noita by the throat. She hauled the witch to her feet. “These visions of the future. Did they show what I’ll do to you if you don’t help us?”

Noita swallowed. “They didn’t show you at all. Only your friends. That cape of yours shields you from my visions.”

The terror in Noita’s eyes almost made Talia pity her. Then she looked to the apple tree and thought of Snow. “If I can change what happened here, I can change the rest of it.” Her fingers tightened. The wolfskin gave her strength, and Noita was an old woman. It wouldn’t take much effort to snap her bones.

“Talia.” Danielle caught her arm. “ Talia.”

Noita’s fingers dug at Talia’s hands. She was wheezing, trying to force air past the slowly constricting grip on her neck.

Talia took a deep, shuddering breath, and released her. The witch fell, gasping and holding her neck. “The spirit in this cape may not be as powerful as this demon, but there’s a very important difference. The wolf is here, right now. And it doesn’t like you very much.”

“I know Rose cast her spell at the winter palace.” Noita’s face was pale. “I merely helped with the preparations. I never saw the summoning circle, but a circle that powerful would leave traces. It might still be there. A hidden room, maybe? Rose had many secrets, but your witch might be able to find it.”

Gerta broke a rosebud from a vine and twirled it in her fingers. “I have a better idea. If your magic can show you visions of other times and places, perhaps it can show us what we need to see.”

“Rose warded her secrets against scrying,” Noita protested.

“But Rose is dead,” said Gerta. “With my magic added to yours, maybe we can finally get ahead of this demon.”