The Snow Queen's shadow

CHAPTER 7

Gerta appeared oblivious to everyone’s attention as she pored over Armand’s body, her face so close to his skin that the hairs on his chest brushed her nose. If Danielle was wrong about her, it would be so easy for her to kill Armand.

Danielle banished that thought, as she had so many others. Father Isaac stood beside Gerta, his expression intent as he split his attention between Gerta and the prince. Talia paced behind the altar, her face a mask of distrust.

What was Gerta? Could Snow really have created a true person, an individual with her own mind and soul? Snow had never hinted that she could cast such magic. Or was Gerta’s life mere imitation, perhaps a fragment of Snow herself, broken from the whole?

Danielle could see glimpses of Snow in Gerta. The way she whispered absently to herself as she traced runes onto Armand’s arm, the set of her lips when she concentrated, her obvious excitement over the workings of magic.

How many years had Snow spent imagining a sister, sculpting every last detail with her mind, trying to ease her loneliness? Gerta wasn’t quite as attractive as Snow, which made sense. Snow’s vanity wouldn’t allow her to imagine a more beautiful sister. Gerta was taller, with a more prominent nose. Her teeth were perfect, but slightly too large. Her eyes were a muddy brown, reminding Danielle not of Snow herself, but of Snow’s mother.

If they were unable to stop whatever demon had taken Snow, Gerta might be the closest Danielle ever got to seeing her friend again.

Gerta’s scream filled the chapel. Talia lunged to grab her arm, but Gerta shook her away.

“Let her work,” Isaac shouted. Danielle had never heard him yell before.

“What’s happening?” Danielle asked.

“Give me the pearl.” Gerta reached blindly toward the silver communion cup that held a single perfect pearl. Talia shoved it into her hand. Gerta began to chant in another tongue. Sweat beaded her nose and forehead. Danielle could hear the pearl rolling about, though Gerta held the cup perfectly still.

“The demon,” said Isaac. “As Gerta’s magic touches the mirror, she also touches Snow.” He took his crucifix in both hands and began to pray. Gray smoke billowed from the thuribles, the incense strong enough to make Danielle’s eyes water. His voice grew deeper, filling the church. “Depart. You are not welcome here.”

“She sees me.” Gerta was trembling.

Danielle stepped closer, putting her hand over Gerta’s on the cup. “Focus on the mirror. You can do this.”

Gerta grabbed a small jar of oil and poured a circle onto Armand’s chest around the freshest of the bruises. The skin turned pink where the oil touched. Gerta pressed her fingers into the center of the ring.

Danielle could see a tiny lump beneath Armand’s skin. “Is that it?”

Gerta took the pearl from the cup and pressed it onto the lump with her thumb. “She’s trying to break it. I can encase one sliver, but if it fragments further…”

Armand’s eyes opened. Talia jumped forward, catching his arm and pinning it to the altar. Danielle did the same on the other side, using her full weight to keep him from reaching Gerta. He was so strong, his fingers pinching and ripping the skin of Danielle’s arm as he struggled to break free. He kicked at Isaac, who stepped out of the way without interrupting his chant.

Isaac gestured with one hand, and Armand fell back, though he remained awake.

“I’ve almost got it,” said Gerta.

Armand’s eyes narrowed, and his lips drew together in a smile.

“Be careful,” Danielle warned.

The cracking sound was so quiet Danielle almost missed it. Gerta screamed and yanked her thumb back. The pearl had split in two, and blood beaded from the center of Armand’s chest.

Isaac caught Gerta’s wrist and reached out with his other hand. “Knife!”

Talia slapped a dagger into his hand. Isaac pressed the blade to Gerta’s thumb and cut a shallow line. Gerta shrieked again, but didn’t fight. Instead, she grabbed the dagger and pushed it deeper.

“The cup,” Gerta said.

Danielle grabbed the cup from the altar. Blood dripped from Gerta’s thumb, along with a sparkle of glass no larger than a grain of sand. “Is that-?”

“She broke the splinter in two.” Gerta stuck her bloody thumb into her mouth. Her whole body was shaking. “She tried to shove the other piece into me.”

As the pounding of Danielle’s heart slowly calmed, she noticed another sound: Armand, laughing softly to himself.

“I could feel her reaching for me,” said Gerta. “Like her magic was a weed, digging its roots into my veins. If Father Isaac hadn’t cut it free, she would have taken me as well. I’m sorry.” Gerta wiped her face as she turned to Talia. Isaac grabbed a cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders. “She was surprised. She wasn’t expecting anyone to try to remove one of the slivers, but she’ll be prepared now. She’ll be watching for me to try again.”

Isaac set the cup and splinter onto a small shelf, whispering a quick blessing over them both before returning to the prince. He placed a hand on Armand’s chest and began to pray.

“Not even our mother could do such magic,” Gerta whispered. “Snow ripped through Isaac’s protections, threw off my spells, all through such a tiny fragment of glass.”

“You’re still here,” said Talia. “That’s what matters. We’ll find another way.”

Armand laughed again. A thin line of blood dripped down his stomach, staining the waist of his trousers. “Do you tell such lies to comfort yourself, Talia? Or are you foolish enough to believe them?”

Danielle stepped away from the altar. Armand hadn’t moved since that one aborted attempt to reach Gerta. “Father, will your magic hold him?”

“His body,” Isaac said, stepping away from the altar. “For now.”

Danielle gestured for the others to follow as she strode to the far side of the chapel. In a low voice, she said, “Thank you for trying, Gerta.”

Gerta managed a crooked smile. “So now do you trust me?”

Gerta might be a stranger, but she spoke with weary familiarity, so much like Snow that Danielle couldn’t help but smile in return. “It’s a start.”

“Will Snow come after you?” Talia asked.

“I don’t think so.” Gerta checked her thumb. Blood welled from the cut, and she wrapped it in the hem of her cloak. “She hid me from herself, ripping the memory from her own mind to protect me from the demon. She knows someone tried to free Armand, but she doesn’t know who I am.”

Danielle turned away. What had Snow intended for Gerta? Gerta wasn’t strong enough to fight a demon. Was she a merely a way for Snow to save some part of herself?

“What now?” asked Talia. “Half the palace is out hunting for Snow and the prince, but we don’t know where she intends to go next.”

“She’s at sea,” said Gerta.

They turned to face her.

“As Snow tried to take me, I… I think I glimpsed her as well. Her whereabouts and her thoughts. Like a nightmare, trying to swallow me into darkness, but I saw water, and I felt the shift of the deck.”

“She’s going home,” whispered Talia. “To Allesandria.”

“How do you know?” asked Gerta.

“She spoke of the pain of leaving your home. Of surrendering your birthright.” Talia stared at the floor. “‘Nobody forced you to flee, to turn your back on your throne.’ She was talking about me, but.. .”

“But herself as well,” Danielle finished. “If the winds are favorable, we might be able to intercept her before she reaches Allesandria.”

“Do you know how to stop a demon?” asked Gerta. “She took your son and swept through the palace as though neither guards nor wards even existed.”

“Accounts of such creatures are rare,” Isaac said, hooking his thumbs through his necklace as he paced. “The church teaches that demons are beasts of Hell. By their nature, they spread pain and chaos, and they do not stop until they are destroyed or returned to Hell.”

“There are theories that Hell is simply another world,” Gerta said. “Albeit one less hospitable to beings such as ourselves.”

“Perhaps.” Isaac turned to Danielle. “Like the devils of old, this one works through lies and deception. It seeks not to control Snow, but to corrupt her.”

“Snow’s mother bound it into the mirror,” said Danielle. “If we could do the same-”

“Once trapped, we could find a way to destroy it!” Gerta nodded eagerly. “There was a witch named Noita. She lived by the river near the winter palace in Kanustius. My mother went to her on occasion, when she required assistance with certain rituals.”

“Would she know how your mother controlled this demon?” asked Danielle.

“She might. Not even my mother could have worked such magic alone.”

“We’ll take the Phillipa,” said Danielle. “She’s the fastest ship in the Lorindar navy. If we can intercept Snow before she reaches Allesandria, we’ll try to rescue Jakob. If not, we find Noita.”

“How do you plan to steal Jakob away from her?” Talia demanded. “She took Jakob from the heart of the palace. When I faced her, I barely escaped with my soul intact.”

“So don’t face her,” Danielle snapped. “While we engage with Snow, you sneak onto her ship and find my son. Snow might be too powerful for us to stop, but you’ve had no trouble dealing with her other victims.”

Unspoken between them was the fact that they had no idea how to save Snow herself. Talia dug her nails into her palms, but nodded once. “The Phillipa was Bea’s ship. Captain Hephyra’s oath was to her, not to Lorindar. With the queen dead, she might already have left.”

“Not yet.” Danielle was already hurrying toward the door. “Her crew were men of Lorindar. She would need time to raise a new one. Pack your things. We leave at high tide today.”

Talia found Danielle in her quarters a short time later, stuffing clothes into a brass-studded carriage trunk. It was a measure of Danielle’s distress that she wasn’t bothering to fold them.

Talia coughed softly so as not to startle her. “I’ve asked the kitchen to search for some of that tea mix Snow used to make, to help your seasickness.”

“Thank you.” Danielle stifled a yawn as she shoved a jacket and a pair of boots into the trunk, followed by a thick brown cloak.

Talia glanced at the second trunk sitting beside the bed. “Armand?”

Danielle’s shoulders tensed. “Still in the chapel. Father Isaac will continue to search for ways to free him from the demon’s influence.”

Talia pressed the door shut behind her. “When I faced Snow, the things the demon said… you can’t parry words. To hear those taunts from the one you love lodges the barbs deeper.”

Danielle bowed her head. “Snow makes for Allesandria because, deep within her heart, some part of her longs to return home, to regain those dreams. That longing is real. What does that say of Armand’s heart? Deep down, did he choose me not for love, but for simplicity? Because I was safe?”

“Perhaps some part of him did.” Talia shrugged. “Just as a part of you wanted him because he could help you escape your stepmother and stepsisters.”

“I love him,” Danielle insisted, turning away from the trunk.

“I know.” Talia leaned against the doorframe, arms folded. “You love him now. What was it you loved that first night, when you knew nothing but his name, his looks, and the fact that he danced like a drunken ox?”

A smile tugged briefly at her lips. “He wasn’t that bad.”

“You should have seen him when he was learning. He nearly crippled three of his mother’s handmaidens.” Talia sighed and joined Danielle, helping to gather her things into the trunk.

Danielle was holding up thus far, keeping her emotions under control while she dealt with the crisis at hand. Talia had seen her like this before when Armand was kidnapped, and again a year later when Beatrice was attacked. But she didn’t know how long Danielle could keep going with both Armand and Jakob endangered. Danielle was exhausted, her body tight with the strain, as though the next blow might shatter what strength she had left.

“Danielle, are you certain about this? Whatever this demon is, it will fight us. Perhaps you should remain behind to keep Lorindar from falling apart. I know Theodore would appreciate the support.”

Danielle yanked a pair of trousers from Talia’s hands and refolded them. “She has Jakob.”

“So you would give her the future queen of Lorindar as well?” Talia kept her voice soft. “A single cut from her mirror and she’ll own you, just as she does Armand.”

“Then I’ll trust you to keep me safe, as always.” Danielle rose. In addition to her sword, she wore a long dagger on her belt. Talia nodded her approval. “Talia, I have to go. I can speak to the animals of the sea, ask them to help us.”

“What of your husband? If Jakob-If we can’t stop Snow… you and Armand-”

“I know what you’re not saying,” said Danielle. Her cheeks were wet. “I know my duty. Chancellor Crombie has already expressed his ‘concerns’ over this voyage. He feels as you do, that I should remain here while others search for my son. Should Jakob be lost, my responsibility is to bear another heir, to protect the Whiteshore line.”

Talia made a note to punch the chancellor in the face at the next opportunity. “You know how I feel about Jakob. I’ll do everything in my power to-”

“There will be no other heir, Talia. We’ve tried. Whatever magic the Duchess’ darklings performed on me, it left me unable to bear another child. Snow confirmed it two months ago. I asked her not to speak of it.”

Danielle spoke without inflection. From the weariness in her face, she had already shed her tears over the news. Talia stood mute, uncertain what to say. Of all the arguments she had prepared for, this one had never occurred to her.

She understood why Danielle had asked Snow to keep this secret. Once it became known that the future queen was unable to bear another child, it wouldn’t take long for certain individuals to suggest Armand turn elsewhere “for the good of Lorindar.” This would only encourage those who condemned the prince for marrying someone they considered beneath his station. From the expression on Danielle’s face, she knew this all too well.

“I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t know.” Danielle rubbed her face. “I don’t need sorrow or sympathy. I need you to help me find my son.”

“You know I will. But you should-”

“You know better,” Danielle said. “Tell me, what words could make you stay behind? What responsibilities could keep you off that ship while others search for Snow and Jakob?”

Talia tilted her head, acknowledging the point.

“We’ll get them back, Talia. Both of them.” Danielle turned away to resume packing.

“Do you truly believe that, or are you trying to convince yourself?” Talia asked softly.

Danielle didn’t answer.

Danielle jolted awake as the carriage hit another pit in the switchbacked road that led to the harbor.

“We’re almost there,” Talia said softly. She sat on the opposite bench, a small hand crossbow on the seat beside her.

Danielle fought the impulse to ask the driver-again-for greater speed. The roads were too slick, a result of their exposure to the ocean winds. Slush and snow had frozen into the cracks between the paving stones. Any faster and they risked the carriage sliding from the road.

“Hephyra is going to be furious,” said Talia.

“I know.” Danielle had once seen Captain Hephyra fling a man almost twice her size from the deck of her ship. She rubbed her eyes, trying to scrub away the fatigue and the lingering remnants of her dreams. “Trittibar says this should work.”

“Easy for him to say. He’s not the one who has to protect you from a pissed-off dryad. We should have brought an escort.”

“And make it look like we’re threatening her?” Danielle shook her head. Bad enough an extra garrison of the king’s soldiers had been dispatched to the harbor. King Theodore had ordered them dispatched around sunrise, after news reached the palace that the harbor-master and several of his men had fallen to Snow’s magic.

The rhythm of the carriage changed as they left the frozen dirt-and-stone road for the wooden planks of the docks. The driver called back, “Keep the shutters drawn, Your Highness.”

Danielle double-checked that the shutters were latched. “What do you think of Gerta?”

Talia sighed and leaned back. “She’s a magical construct created by a woman who was fighting demonic possession.”

Gerta was currently waiting back at the palace. She would follow as soon as Danielle sent word. If all went well, they could be off in less than an hour, just in time to catch the high tide at midmorning. “You don’t trust her.”

“We don’t even know what she is. I’ve seen Snow cast incredible spells before, but to create a new human being… it seems impossible.”

“I created Jakob,” Danielle pointed out. “With a little help from Armand.”

“That took nine months. Snow did it in nine heartbeats. She’s the one who always says magic has a price.”

Danielle’s thoughts had followed a similar path. What was the cost of creating a new life? “Gerta claims to be a part of Snow.”

Talia nodded. “A part which Snow ripped from herself. The part she tried to protect from the demon.”

“So what happens to Gerta if we succeed?” Danielle knew little of magic, but if Gerta was incomplete, a fragment of Snow White, would Snow eventually need to reclaim that fragment? How long could Gerta even survive on her own?

“I imagine she’s asked herself the same questions.” Talia’s jaw was tight. “Gerta didn’t ask for any of this.”

“I know.” The carriage slowed. “Watch her. She’s done nothing to earn our suspicions, and I’m grateful to her for trying to save Armand, but she’s not Snow. It would be easy to forget she’s a stranger to us.”

Talia quirked an eyebrow. “Princess, I’ve made certain she was under guard from the moment I found her.”

“Of course you have.” Danielle gave a faint smile as she wrapped her cloak around herself. The carriage sheltered her as she stepped down, but as soon as she moved past it, the air buffeted her toward the white cliffs that rose behind her.

They had passed the commercial ships, rounding a bend in the cliffs to reach the part of the harbor used by the Lorindar navy. Banners fluttered from the signal tower built into the cliffs a short distance ahead. Tall ships aligned in the docks like horses in their stables.

The road here was raised against the tides, but a salty mist still filled the air as waves broke against the rocks. Chimneys from the buildings packed along the base of the cliffs spread lines of smoke across the sky.

Danielle spotted the Phillipa at once, docked about a third of the way down the harbor. Unlike the other ships, the Phillipa was unpainted, a narrow double-masted ship of fairy design. Silver sails were furled tight to the yards. A carved swan extended from beneath the bowsprit. The Phillipa carried fewer guns than most naval vessels, but she was as tough as any warship.

“Princess Whiteshore!” Captain Hephyra stood at the rails. Even from a distance, Danielle could see the fury on the captain’s expression. “Was it you who ordered the harbor closed?”

The order had come from King Theodore, but Danielle doubted that would matter. She cupped her hands to her mouth. “I would speak with you, Hephyra.”

Hephyra jumped from her ship, not bothering with the gangplank. She landed hard enough that Danielle feared the impact would shatter the planks of the dock, but things of wood obeyed different laws for Hephyra.

Captain Hephyra was a dryad, exiled from Fairytown for crimes against her queen. She was taller than most humans, dressed in a fashion that gave no consideration to the cold weather. Her black trousers were tied off at the knees, leaving her lower legs and feet bare. A matching black shirt exposed her midriff and her arms from the elbows down. A green bandanna swept auburn hair back from a face both severe and beautiful.

Her stride swallowed the distance between them. For a moment, Danielle thought Hephyra meant to simply toss her into the water. But she came to an abrupt halt half a pace in front of Danielle. Suspicion filled her cold, gray eyes. “Beatrice is dead.”

“Yes,” said Danielle.

Hephyra rubbed her wrist. The last time Danielle had seen the dryad, a golden tattoo had circled her wrist, a sign of her bond to Queen Beatrice. Today, Hephyra’s skin was bare. “The fairy queen gave my ship to Beatrice. With her gone, you’ve no hold over me or the Phillipa, and no right to keep me here.”

Danielle held her ground. “I need you to take us on one final voyage. To Allesandria.”

“And back,” Talia added. “No stranding us across the sea.”

Hephyra snorted. “Good to see you again, Talia.” To Danielle, she said, “This is about your witch friend, isn’t it? The one who sailed from here like a hellstorm earlier today.”

“You saw her?” Talia asked.

“She took a merchant vessel. Not one of those gutheavy cargo ships, but an escort, fast and armed.” Hephyra jabbed a finger at the sea. “She stood at the bow, hair and cloak flapping in the wind. Even I could feel the magic she wove as she raced from the docks. She passed through the chains at the harbor mouth like they were mist. I’d have done the same, had I her powers.”

Danielle’s throat knotted. “Was Jakob with her?”

“I couldn’t say. Sorry, Princess. Best of luck finding the little sapling, though. I liked him.”

“I saved your ship, almost two years ago,” Danielle reminded her. “You owe me.”

Hephyra snorted. “You made no bargain with me. I appreciate what you did for the Phillipa, don’t get me wrong. But it was your quest that put us in danger to begin with. Yours and Beatrice’s. I owe you nothing, and my answer is no.”

“I told you,” Talia whispered.

“I know.” Danielle had hoped it wouldn’t come to this. “I didn’t ask you for your help, Captain. The fairy queen gave your ship to Beatrice Whiteshore as a gift.”

“And Beatrice is dead,” Hephyra spun on her heel and began walking back to the Phillipa.

Danielle raised her voice. “The queen left a will.”

Hephyra stopped.

“A short document,” Danielle went on. “One which lays out her wishes for those few belongings she claimed as her own. Including the Phillipa.”

Hephyra touched her wrist. “I’m free. You can’t-”

“I’ve spoken to Trittibar.” Danielle kept her face cold. “Your ship, and by extension yourself, belonged to Beatrice Whiteshore. By fairy law, she has every right to pass you to her heir.” She held her ground as Hephyra stormed closer.

“Now you’ve done it,” Talia muttered as she shifted, moving into position to better defend Danielle.

“So I’m to belong to the prince now, is that it?” Hephyra’s shout drew stares from the closest ships.

“To me,” said Danielle.

Hephyra blinked. “You can’t get within ten paces of a ship without turning green as spring grass. Why would she leave the Phillipa to you?”

“Maybe because she knew I would need your help one last time. Or maybe because she knew I’d be willing to free you once this journey ended.” Danielle moved closer. “Give me your word as a fairy to help us save Snow and Jakob. Carry us until they’re safely returned to Lorindar, and you will be free.”

“And if they’re beyond saving?” Hephyra asked.

“Three months.” Danielle refused to feel shame for the tears that slipped down her cheeks. “If we’re unable to save them in that time, I’ll free you to do as you wish.”

“Allesandria isn’t that far. One month.”

“Two,” Danielle countered.

“So be it. My word to serve you for two months, or until Snow and Jakob are safely returned to Lorindar.” Hephyra spat. “You’ve changed. The seasick princess I remember wasn’t one for enslaving innocent fey.”

Danielle allowed herself a small smile. “This must be some new use of the word ‘innocent’ with which I’m unfamiliar.”

“Ha! True enough.” Hephyra gave a slight bow. “You bargain like a fairy, Highness. Cold and ruthless.” She spun away and began shouting orders to the Phillipa ’s crew.

Neither Danielle nor Talia spoke until Hephyra was back on board. The dryad’s hearing was sharp as an owl’s.

“A fairy bargain indeed,” Talia said softly. “I don’t think she meant it as a compliment.”

“She’s more right than you know.”

Talia was already moving to unload the carriage. “How so?”

“Hephyra is a living, thinking creature. Do you really believe Beatrice would have passed her to me like some trinket?”

Talia’s eyes widened. “You bluffed her?”

“The Phillipa is the fastest ship in Lorindar. We need that speed.” Danielle stomped her feet, shaking slush from the soles of her boots. Guilt and shame warred with that need, and once again, need won out. “I secured her help the only way I could.”

With that, she called to one of the hawks that hunted from the cliffs. The hawk swooped down to land atop the carriage, black talons gouging the wood. Danielle carefully tied a message to the hawk’s leg with a silver ribbon. She had prepared the note before they even left the palace. “Gerta will be on her way shortly. We leave as soon as the Phillipa is ready.”