The Snow Queen's shadow

CHAPTER 21

Danielle spent the night haunted by dreams of Jakob, trapped in an icy prison, searching and calling for her but unable to find her. When she tried to answer, her throat refused to obey, and her limbs were like stone. She awoke feeling even more exhausted than before.

Tommy guided them through the twisting tunnels to the surface. Danielle ate as she walked, forcing herself to finish a hard smoked roll that tasted of mushrooms and smoke and old meat.

The sun was low in the sky when they emerged, and Danielle shivered even within the bundled jacket and oversized mittens the giant had provided. Their weapons had also been returned, along with blankets, rope, and other supplies crammed into musty, dirt-stained packs.

Tommy jabbed his shovel to the northeast. “Head that way until you reach an old mining trail. It should take you the way you want to go.”

“Thank you,” said Danielle.

The knocker was already retreating through the small hole from which they had emerged. He raised his shovel in salute, then rapped it against the wooden frame of the entrance. The impact collapsed the drifted snow overhead, burying the way in.

Gerta used her boot to clear away the worst of the snow. She frowned, then dug deeper. Her efforts revealed nothing but snow and rock. “That’s a nice trick.”

The darkling shifted its form, becoming a pair of shadow-thin reindeer once more. Climbing onto the creature’s back was no less disturbing than the last time, but the darkling was the fastest way to reach the lake.

Danielle watched Gerta and Talia as they mounted the other reindeer, wondering what had happened in the mine. Gerta’s fear was still very much present, but the edge was gone. As for Talia, she was hurting, though she tried to hide it. The clipped tone of her words, the tension in her body… she meant to save Snow, no matter the cost. Danielle could see it in the way she moved, deliberate and purposeful.

Danielle prayed for the same, but if Bellum and Veleris were right and there was only one way to stop this demon… She prayed that it wouldn’t come to that, for all their sakes.

Talia scowled when she saw Danielle watching her. “Come on. The sooner we leave these damned fairies behind, the happier I’ll be.”

“Damned fairies?” Danielle repeated. “Does that include me as well?” The words sounded strange. In her mind, she was as human as Talia… though perhaps that wasn’t the best comparison, given the magic flowing through Talia’s blood.

“Don’t be stupid,” Talia snapped.

Danielle knew Talia well enough to know her barbs weren’t personal, her anger not directed at Danielle. “It changes things,” she said. “The people were wary enough when their prince married an ash-covered servant girl. What will they say to the revelation that their future ruler is less than fully human?”

Talia scowled. “Your lives-Jakob’s life-might be easier if certain things were kept secret.”

As they rode, Danielle found herself thinking of the bargain the Duchess had reached with the fairies of Speas Elan. The fairies of Allesandria had been hunted down, nearly driven into extinction, but was Lorindar any better? Their own war with fairykind had ended with Malindar’s Treaty, which confined fairykind to a single walled city. Was that treaty so different from the Duchess’ terms?

Every history she had read described conflict between human and fairy. In Arathea, the fairies had used Talia’s curse to wipe out the ruling line, plunging the nobles into chaos. In Allesandria and Lorindar, the humans had triumphed. But they were all variations of the same basic war, played out again and again. “Do you know of any land where humans and fairies live in peace, as equals?”

Talia raised an eyebrow. Gerta shook her head and said, “Not for very long.”

“Fairy magic could have fought this demon,” Danielle said, “but Allesandria slaughtered its fairies.” The most powerful fairies would have been the first to be destroyed. Had the demon recognized its vulnerabilities? Was that another reason it had fled to Allesandria?

Jakob was both human and fairy. Danielle would have sooner died than give her son into the Duchess’ hands, and yet… he would be king of Lorindar when he was older. What could he accomplish, with connections to both worlds?

She closed her eyes, imagining Jakob as a man. A leader, trained to navigate human politics as well as fairy. He could change things. Humans and fairies, no longer enemies bound by a treaty, but true allies.

Noble families had been known to send their children to serve in foreign courts. The King and Queen of Fairytown rarely spoke to one another, but it would make sense for Jakob to visit both… when he was old enough.

Instead, the Duchess had claimed him. Her bargain with Bellum and Veleris was proof of her hunger for power, a hunger which would doubtless twist Jakob as well, poisoning that future. Instead of bringing human and fairy together, the Duchess would use Jakob against her enemies on all sides.

Danielle refused to consider the possibility that they might be unable to save her son, that both he and Armand would be lost to her forever.

“You’re still thinking about Jakob,” Talia guessed. “We will find a way to destroy this demon. As for the Duchess-”

Danielle raised a hand, cutting her off. The darkling served them by the Duchess’ order, but Danielle had no doubt the creature was listening to their every word, and would report back to its master.

“I made a bargain.” To rescue Jakob from the demon, only to lose him again. She closed her eyes, waiting for the pain to recede enough for her to reclaim those images of her son grown to adulthood. Taking his place as King of Lorindar. Reaching out to Fairytown and rewriting the treaty. Taking a wife. Having children of his own.

“We’ll get him back,” said Talia. “We’ll get them all back.”

Danielle managed a smile, but said nothing. Talia sounded much like Danielle had several years ago, always insisting everything would work out. Danielle remembered well what Talia had said to her at the time.

“Just because your story had a happy ending doesn’t mean everyone else’s will.”

They discovered Veleris’ message on the second day, printed upon one of the dried fish. Tiny black marks, slightly smeared, covered the yellowed meat like an old tattoo.

“It’s a spell,” Gerta said.

Danielle peered closer. The letters appeared to have been written in haste. “On a fish?”

“To hide it from Bellum,” Talia guessed.

“She writes that it’s an old charm used by giants before battle, to toughen the skin,” Gerta read. “She says it should protect us from Snow’s ice wasps. It’s fairy magic, but she believes the spell can be adjusted for human use.”

“Can it?” Danielle asked. Snow had been able to cast fairy spells before, but she wasn’t certain about Gerta.

“I think so. I’ll need time…”

“You can read while we ride,” Talia said, snatching another fish from their supplies.

Gerta didn’t appear to hear. She muttered to herself as she studied the spell, brows furrowed in a way that made her look like her sister.

“Those wasps won’t be the demon’s only protection,” Talia said.

“I know.” Danielle finished packing snow into a small pot and handed it to Gerta, who barely even looked up as she used her magic to melt it into drinking water. “I’ve been thinking about that.”

“And?” Talia asked.

Danielle rubbed her shoulders, where the straps of her pack had dug into the muscle. “I’m still thinking,” she admitted.

“Think harder.”

She did, testing one plan after another in her mind and discarding them all. By the time they reached Snow’s palace toward evening of the second day, Danielle could see only one way to get them inside. But the cost made her ill.

The woods ended at the shore of a vast, frozen lake, covered in ankle-deep snow. Toward the center of the lake stood the palace Danielle had seen in her vision, like a miniature mountain range of ice. Crystalline towers stretched skyward, illuminated from within by green and blue lights. Drifts of snow buried much of the lower part of the palace.

They waited while Gerta read the protective spell Veleris had prepared. Gerta clutched the dried fish in her hands, mumbling to herself and touching her forehead. She repeated the gesture with the others, chanting in a language Danielle didn’t recognize.

“If you turn me into a troll, I swear to the gods I’ll eat you,” said Talia.

Gerta’s lips quirked as she continued her spell, reaching for Danielle. Danielle’s face tightened at Gerta’s touch. Her skin felt warm and dry, as if she had spent too much time in the sun. When she flexed her arms, there was a stiffness in her skin that reminded her of the heavily starched gowns that had been so popular last season.

Talia pulled out her knife and dragged the edge over her thumb. The blade failed to break the skin. “Not bad.”

“It’s no substitute for armor,” Gerta warned. “A strong sword thrust will kill you, but we should be protected from glancing blows and smaller stings.” She rubbed a thumb over the writing on the dried fish, then shrugged and took a bite. “Tastes like magic.”

The lake offered no cover. Danielle saw neither guards nor windows, but she had no doubt Snow was watching. “Night should help-”

“Not against Snow. The entire lake serves as her mirror. The moment we step out…” Gerta pointed toward the palace. “There are creatures in the drifts. So cold they’re barely alive.”

“Prisoners?” asked Talia.

“I don’t think so.” Gerta squinted through the trees.

Danielle fought to control her breathing. Jakob was there, beyond those drifted walls. Close enough he might hear her voice if she shouted. “It doesn’t matter.”

Gerta’s magic wasn’t strong enough to overpower Snow. The darkling wouldn’t be able to conceal them either, not here. Snow had made this place her new home. The moment they stepped onto the ice, she would know.

“How do we get inside?” asked Talia. “There are no doors.”

“She doesn’t need them,” said Gerta. “The ice responds to her will. We’ll have to scale the outer wall or break through.”

Danielle stepped down to the shore. The lake’s edge had frozen into a lacy ribbon of frost that crunched beneath her feet.

The drifts at the base of the palace wall shivered. Large shapes stepped free. Most were humanoid, clothed in fur and frost and ice. Others walked on all fours, though they were unlike any beasts Danielle had ever seen. At this distance, it was difficult to make out the details. She spotted a white winged serpent twice as high as a man. An animal that appeared a cross between dog and bull shook snow from its spine-covered hide. Every one of the creatures was white, as though all color had been bleached from their bodies.

“I estimate close to a hundred,” said Talia, her tone calm and calculating.

“That’s just from the front section of the palace,” Gerta pointed out. “She could have five times their number waiting in the rest of the drifts.”

“Welcome, Danielle.” Snow’s voice boomed over the lake. “Have you no words of greeting for your loyal crew, the men who fought so briefly but valiantly to protect the Phillipa?”

Danielle swallowed. “Gerta?”

“She’s telling the truth.” Gerta was paler than usual. “They’re human. Or they used to be.”

These were men Danielle had sailed with. Men she had joked with and even fought beside, more than a year ago. “Are you strong enough to undo-”

“I’m sorry.” Gerta stared out at the bestial army before them. “I might be able to change one or two, given enough time, but not like this.”

Ever since leaving Lorindar, Danielle had imagined what she would say when she found Snow White. She had searched for the words that would break through the demon’s power and help her friend to throw off its hold long enough for them to destroy it. Long enough for them to save her.

“Your son told me you’d arrive today,” said Snow. “A marvelous child, who sees far more than most. I daresay he’ll soon forget you and Armand. He’ll forget everything, save me.”

“Forgive me.” Danielle closed her eyes. Many times throughout the years she had prayed to her mother’s spirit. It was her mother who had helped her escape her stepmother’s home, leading her to the ball and Armand. Her mother had given her the glass sword, which had saved Danielle’s life on more than one occasion. Her hand went to her hip, imagining the comforting weight of the glass blade, now lost.

“Watch over your grandson,” she whispered. “Keep him safe.” No matter what happened to her.

Talia cleared her throat. “You realize if we fail, we’re handing the Princess of Lorindar over to this demon?”

“So don’t fail,” said Danielle.

Snow’s voice came again. “Have you come to bargain? To trade the girl for your son? Surrender to me, and I might be willing to listen to your offer.”

Danielle glanced at Gerta. She was formed from Snow White. It was no surprise Snow would guess at the very plan Gerta had suggested back in Speas Elan.

Talia’s face was stone. “Even possessed, she’s a lousy liar.”

“I didn’t come to bargain,” Danielle called out. “I came to ask you to return my son. And my friend.”

“Oh, Danielle. You should have let them go.” Snow’s creatures moved in unison, marching toward the shore.

Danielle had always believed her ability to summon animals to be another of her mother’s gifts, but perhaps the Duchess was right. Perhaps it was merely the result of her own fairy blood. Whatever its origins, Danielle drew upon that gift now as never before.

Rats, doves, horses, and more had always answered her pleas for help. They had aided her in her chores. They had fought and died to protect her. Even the horses of the Wild Hunt had listened to her commands.

The darkling moved forward, putting itself between her and Snow’s forces. Danielle had seen the damage darklings could do, but Snow had faced them before and won. The darkling wouldn’t be enough.

She called again, forgoing words, projecting her summons as far as she could reach. Ignoring the monsters crossing the ice, the demon within those walls. Ignoring everything save her need.

“Are they coming?” asked Gerta.

Danielle made a face. “It’s not like the animals talk back to me.” She searched the woods for movement.

A pair of white egrets responded first, streaking overhead like angels and swooping down to stab dagger beaks into one of Snow’s monsters. Crows followed, their harsh cries filling the air. Hawks and owls burst from the trees, and then the ground itself began to vibrate underfoot.

A herd of reindeer exploded from the woods, charging past so closely Danielle could have reached out and brushed their sides. One of the largest stopped and bowed his head to Danielle. He was slightly smaller than a horse, with antlers that curved like gnarled oak. She climbed onto the reindeer. “My friends, too, please.”

Two more reindeer stopped. Gerta shook her head as she mounted the nearest. “Strangest army I’ve ever heard of.”

“Things are about to get stranger.” Talia turned to the darkling. “What are the limits of your shapechanging powers?”

The darkling spread his hands.

Talia sheathed her dagger. “I could use a better weapon.”

The darkling grew taller and thinner. Talia leaned forward, tugging the reindeer’s head to guide him, then snatching the darkling up in one mittened hand. Moments later, she held a lance of pure blackness.

“Reins would be helpful,” Gerta commented, clinging to her reindeer’s mane.

“Just keep your head down and hold on,” said Danielle. “Don’t try to fight. Stay close to Talia.”

She had gained some measure of skill on horseback, but the reindeer was a smaller animal, and the back was built differently, with a bit of a hump near the neck. Not to mention the lack of a saddle. The darkling must have used magic to smooth its gait while in this form, because now that she rode a true reindeer, it was all she could do to keep from falling off.

More animals soon joined their battle. A pack of wolves charged across the lake to her right. A lone fox darted underfoot, weaving past the reindeer. A family of bears lumbered onto the ice on her left.

“Punch through their line and make for the palace,” Talia shouted. “Danielle, try to get those wolves to guard our flanks. Once we pierce the line, have them follow us through and spread out to keep the demon’s monsters from following.”

Danielle did her best to relay the commands. Everything was happening so quickly. Snow’s creatures roared as they fought back against the birds. Animals and monsters alike struggled for footing as they clashed. The winged snake snapped an owl from the air, crushing it in its jaws. Moments later, a wolf sank its teeth into one of the snake’s wings.

“Stay low,” Talia yelled. Wasps swarmed over the palace wall, glittering orange in the sunlight. Some struck the animals, but most flew directly at Danielle and her friends.

She pressed her face close to her reindeer’s neck as the stingers ripped through her clothes to jab her skin, but they failed to pierce Veleris’ magic. She grabbed one that had become tangled in her hair. Unlike the other wasps Danielle had seen, this one had a stinger made entirely of ice, which continued to stab futilely even as it melted from the warmth of her hand.

Wolves closed in around them, forming a spearpoint. Talia thrust her black spear to either side, every hit earning howls of pain. The darkling weapon soon dripped blood that was all too human.

Gerta shrieked as a white-spined ape swiped her leg. Talia turned, but Gerta was already gesturing at her attacker. The ape’s feet slipped out from beneath it. When it fell, its head struck the ice hard enough to make Danielle wince in sympathy.

Between the wasps and the monsters, Danielle could barely even see the palace. She stayed low, wanting to urge her reindeer to greater speed, but unwilling to risk a fall. Blood and bodies made the footing more treacherous, and she could feel her reindeer struggling to maintain his balance on the ice.

So many animals lay dead or dying. Snow’s monsters, too. Monsters who had once been human. More birds swooped down, and when she looked behind, she saw other animals continuing to charge forth from the woods. But Snow had also sent reinforcements. Danielle could hear their cries closing in from either side.

The animals forced their way forward, even as the creatures tried to surround them. If they slowed, Danielle doubted they would be able to fight their way free. Wolves threw themselves at Snow’s guardians, snarling and snapping. A brown bear reared up and struck a sixlegged lizard that looked vaguely like a dragon. Talia’s spear knocked a giant porcupine aside, and then they were through.

The wolves followed, spreading out in a thin line behind Danielle and her friends. More animals joined them, a wall of claws and teeth against the frozen creatures who tried to reach them. Talia jumped from her reindeer, clutching her spear in one hand as she tossed her pack to the base of the wall. She stabbed the spear into the snow and grabbed a coil of rope. “Gerta, I need another knife. Danielle, give me a boost.”

Gerta tossed her dagger to Talia. Danielle braced herself. Talia climbed Danielle’s body as easily as a spider until she stood balanced upon Danielle’s shoulders. Danielle grimaced and did her best not to move. Her legs were weak after two days’ hard riding, but she held firm as Talia rammed the blade into the ice. She had to strike three times to get it to hold. She pulled herself up and stabbed her hunting knife into the ice with her other hand.

Danielle picked up the darkling spear and moved to join the animals. She stabbed past the line at the twisted creatures beyond, doing what she could to help and trying to ignore the cold, sickly feeling of the darkling in her hands.

“This isn’t going to be fast enough,” said Gerta. She whispered a quick spell. The next time Talia struck, her blade sank deeper into the ice, and Danielle saw steam emerge.

Danielle backed toward the wall, their defensive line shrinking into a tighter and tighter arc as one wolf after another fell to Snow’s monsters.

“I’m ready!” Talia shouted from atop the wall. One end of the rope dropped to the ice.

Danielle didn’t turn. “Gerta, get moving.”

Gerta hurried up the wall, and then Talia was yelling for Danielle.

Danielle flung the spear straight into the air. Talia snatched it and set it down beside her. Danielle hesitated only long enough to thank the animals for their help. Then, tears blurring her eyes, she grabbed the rope and climbed. She was halfway up when she spotted a white shape streaking along the top of the wall toward Talia. “To your left!”

“I see it.” Talia flung her darkling spear, catching the monster in the side. It howled and toppled away, out of sight. Talia reached down with her free hand.

Danielle climbed faster, ignoring the burning of her muscles and the cramps in her fingers until she was able to reach up and grasp Talia’s hand.

There was a short clearing on the opposite side, about ten paces between the wall and the palace itself. Gerta stood at the base of the wall below, dagger in one hand as she searched the snowy courtyard, but Danielle didn’t spot any of Snow’s monsters here save the one Talia had struck with her spear. It lay dead in the snow, the darkling standing beside it.

The palace was relatively small, perhaps half the size of Whiteshore Palace. It was a thing of spires, like three narrow mountaintops pressed together in a tight triangle. Icicles as long as spears lined every visible edge.

“How do I get down?” Danielle asked.

Talia gave her a wicked grin and pushed. Danielle bit back a shriek as the air rushed past. She had just enough time to hope the drifted snow was enough to cushion her fall, and then cold arms caught her body. The darkling set her gently upon her feet.

“She did that to me, too,” said Gerta. She had tied her scarf around the wound on her leg. “I say we feed her to the wolves.”

Danielle backed away from the darkling. “Sounds good to me.”

Talia landed on all fours in the snow. The impact looked solid enough to make Danielle wince, but Talia shook it off.

“I know this place,” Gerta whispered. “She built it from our daydreams, back when we were children. It’s been so long I’d forgotten. The palace of the Snow Queen, the true ruler of all Allesandria, who would use her magic to fix all that was wrong in the world. She’ll be in the throne room at the center.”

As would Jakob. Danielle stopped herself from calling out to her son. “Can you get us to Snow?”

Gerta limped toward the palace. Snowflakes swirled around her, and more of the ice wasps circled overhead. They merely watched, no longer trying to sting. Gerta stopped before a door of frosted ice. She held out one hand, and Talia slapped the hunting knife into it without a word. Gerta jammed the thick blade as deep as it would go.

Danielle shivered. The sun was setting, and the wind had picked up. “Whatever happens, I want you both to know how much-”

“Shut up,” said Talia. “We know.” She jabbed a finger at the darkling. “You. I need my spear back.”

“Gerta…”

Gerta managed a one-shouldered shrug, but her fear was easy to see. “This is what I was made for.”

“Thank you.” The words were inadequate, but they were all she had. And then a blur of white leaped from atop the palace, and there was no time for words.