The Snow Queen's shadow

CHAPTER 17

The lake was the closest thing to beauty Snow had seen since the demon showed her the world as it truly was. With her followers waiting silently at the shore, the lake was lifeless and frozen and perfect. “What do you think of your new home, Jakob?”

Beside her, Prince Jakob shivered and plopped down to sit on the ice. He had spoken less and less of late, but for the first time in more than a day, a spark of interest lit his eyes. He brushed off a spot on the ice and examined his reflection. “It’s a mirror.”

“Very good.” She conjured a gust of wind to clear a larger patch. “From the outside, Allesandria appears strong. These people have warred with humans and fairies alike, defeating all who challenged their borders. When Allesandria falls, the fatal blow will be struck not from the outside, but from within.”

With Laurence fallen, the Nobles’ Circle would pool their forces both physical and mystical to retake the palace. Nobody wanted to risk another ruler like Rose Curtana. But Snow’s mirrors had already reached the Circle.

She watched the ice, peering from one mind to the next to eavesdrop on the Circle’s debates. The Lord Protector of Voma worked to raise a stone army to defend his city. The ruler of Caronia called for an exception to the laws governing the summoning of demons, claiming it was the only way to meet this threat. One young noble even proposed raising Queen Curtana. “Better an undead queen who can be controlled than a demon-possessed king.”

Snow reached through the mirror, nudging her servants. Unlike the king, these slaves would not fight openly; they would bicker and argue, delaying consensus and sabotaging the Circle’s efforts as the chaos spread.

A thought opened a new window in the ice, allowing her to see through King Laurence’s eyes. She extended herself through the mirror shard in his flesh, donning his body like an ill-fitting dress. She stayed only long enough to plant her next command before turning her attention back to Jakob. “Your mother bargained with fairies to escape Kanustius. You’re going to help me find them.”

Several of Snow’s Stormcrows had seen the darkling. Danielle must have dealt with the Duchess. So much for those high ideals she lorded over everyone else. She was no different. When her life was at stake, she had no compunctions about dealing with criminals.

Jakob was on his hands and knees, tracing one finger over the ice. It was the most attention he had paid to anything since leaving Lorindar.

“Would you like to learn mirror magic, Jakob?”

He nodded.

The ice cracked at Snow’s touch, offering up a frozen shard the size of her palm. She handed it to Jakob. “Why don’t you try searching for your mother? Be careful. The edges are sharp.”

Sharp enough to draw blood. The more he tried to use the frozen mirror, the more his blood and magic would seep into the ice.

“I’m hungry,” said Jakob.

Snow blinked. When had she last eaten? She no longer paid any mind to the complaints of her body, but it had been at least a day… She gestured to those gathered on the shore, sending a small group away to hunt.

The wind blew harder, swirling snow into the air. Instead of dispersing, the snow began to solidify. Strands of ice grew like a crystalline web stretching up around her.

She glanced down at Laurence, who clutched his scepter in both hands as he spoke to the surviving members of the Nobles’ Circle, passing along Snow’s offer. Many would refuse, but some would seek her out, hoping to bargain for power as they had with her mother.

It was poetic. Almost beautiful, in its own way. Their corruption would lead them to her, and that same corruption would damn Allesandria for its crimes.

Talia used shoulders, elbows, and the occasional low kick to clear a path. The road beyond the gate was wide enough to spread out, and Talia dragged her companions ahead, all but running. Only when the road reached the outer edge of the woods and the trees began to block the flaming wall from view did she slow.

“Our supplies are gone,” Danielle commented.

“You want to go back and get them?” Talia asked. She searched the trees until she found the darkling. It had returned to what she assumed was its natural shape, crouching like a monkey in a snow-dusted pine.

When the road neared the top of the hill, Talia turned back to look at Kanustius. Smoke still rose from the palace, and she could make out smaller plumes where other fires had spread through the city. Were those started by the demon’s slaves as well, or were they merely a symptom of the spreading chaos?

“Snow would have taken the city regardless,” said Danielle.

“It happened so quickly.” Less than a day to infiltrate the palace, seize the royal family, and destroy their one hope of trapping the demon. “She has an army now.”

“Her power has limits,” said Gerta. “The Stormcrows fought hard, and many of her fragments have been destroyed.” Her voice caught, and her gaze went to the city.

“What is it?” asked Danielle.

“She created me to stop this, but I wasn’t strong enough. I didn’t find the circle in the palace until it was too late. I couldn’t stop her from taking Laurence and Odelia.”

“You got us out of that prison,” Talia said firmly. “We’re alive, and we’re free.”

“For now.” Gerta shook herself. “I’m sorry. You’re right. We should keep moving. We know the demon is vulnerable to fairy magic. The Duchess said her darkling would lead us to Bellum and Veleris. That they could help us to save Jakob and Snow.”

They stopped at a crossroads a short distance ahead. Most of the crowd trudged south, though a smaller number turned north toward the harbor. Talia watched the darkling, which had reverted back to its blackbird shape. It flew straight ahead, toward the mountains.

Talia waited until they had left the other refugees behind to call the darkling. “Where exactly are you taking us?”

The darkling swooped to the ground, landing in the snow without a sound. “To Speas Elan.”

Talia’s teeth grated at its voice. She had never heard a darkling speak before. The words were like steel scraping over bone. The voice was high-pitched, somewhere between male and female.

“How long a journey will this be?” asked Danielle.

“I will carry you.”

Talia raised an eyebrow at the darkling.

“Even if you could carry us all, your touch would destroy us,” Danielle said.

“Only if I wish it.”

Talia snorted. “How comforting.”

The darkling’s body was already shifting, expanding into the form of a large reindeer. As Talia watched, he split apart, until a second reindeer stood beside the first. They appeared… thinner. She could see the shapes of the trees through their bodies.

“They’re identical,” said Gerta. “You can see the thread of darkness connecting them.”

Talia squinted until she spotted the shadow stretching from the back of one reindeer to the horns of the second. What would happen if that line were cut? Would it hurt this creature, or would they simply end up with two smaller darklings?

Nobody moved toward the reindeer. The darkling said nothing, simply waiting.

“It was your idea to call this thing,” Talia muttered to Danielle.

Danielle made a face, but stepped closer, stretching out one hand as carefully as if she were reaching over an open flame. Both reindeer turned to watch her, the heads moving in unison. Her fingers brushed the first on the neck. When nothing happened, she put a hand on the reindeer’s back. With her other hand, she grasped the base of an antler and pulled herself up.

Talia grimaced and followed suit. The reindeer was cool to the touch, but felt as solid as any horse. Her skin tingled at the contact. Gerta climbed up with her, settling herself in front of Talia. The darkling didn’t appear to mind the extra weight.

“So who exactly are these fairy ladies that are supposed to help us?” Talia asked, trying to relax into the rhythm of the darkling’s odd, bouncing gait.

“I’ve never heard of them,” said Gerta. Her back rested ever so lightly against Talia, reminding her of the last time she had ridden with Snow. Snow had leaned against her in just that way.

“That’s good,” said Danielle. “Hopefully, Snow doesn’t know them either.”

Talia glanced to the side of the road, searching the trees. The reindeer made good speed, but it was hardly subtle.

“Few people brave these roads in winter,” Gerta said, as if reading her thoughts. “Officially, most of the mountain passes are closed from first snowfall through the spring thaw.”

“Someone’s been through here,” Talia said, pointing to the road. The earth was frozen hard as rock, but she could make out other tracks in the snow.

“Unofficially, the mountains are home to those who prefer to live outside of the cities and the king’s law. Criminals and others who don’t wish to be found, like Noita.”

“Or Roland,” Talia said, remembering the name of Snow’s first lover.

Gerta nodded. “Or the fairies.”

“What do you think they’ll ask in return for their help?” Talia asked.

Even from here, she could see Danielle tense. “We’ll face that once we find them.”

“I just hope they can help us at all,” said Gerta. “The fairies of Allesandria aren’t what you’re used to in places like Lorindar or Arathea. The strongest of their race were hunted down more than a century ago. The survivors fled.”

“Obviously not all of them.” Talia grabbed the reindeer’s antlers and tugged, trying to slow the creature.

“What’s wrong?” asked Gerta.

Talia twisted to search the woods behind them. “Hoofbeats, but they’ve stopped.”

Danielle turned to look. “You’re sure?”

“Sure enough.” Without her cape, her senses were merely human.

“Snow’s people?” Danielle asked.

“I don’t think so,” said Gerta. “We’re still alive, aren’t we?”

Branches rustled in the woods to the left, and a startled pheasant burst from the bushes. It might have been nothing. Or it might have been one of their pursuers running ahead to warn his friends to prepare an ambush.

“If I were planning to rob a group of unarmed travelers, I’d choose a place where I could surprise them,” said Talia. “Beyond that hilltop, or hidden among the trees where the forest is thicker.”

Danielle was whispering to the air. A short time later, the pheasant returned to land on the road beside her. She bent down, still speaking in that same soft voice. The pheasant shook its feathers, spread its wings, and flew off. It landed in the trees at the crest of the hill and cried out with a rusty, “kor, korr.”

“A shame he can’t tell me how many are waiting,” Danielle said. “Do you think they’ll have archers?”

Talia shook her head. “Not likely in this cold, unless they want their bows to crack. Slings, possibly. Or simple stones.”

“We could go back,” suggested Danielle. “Try to find another way.”

“I’m tired of running. And like you said, we need supplies.” Talia jumped down from the reindeer, jogging ahead toward where the pheasant continued to shout an alarm. She tugged the knife from her belt, as all of the anger and helplessness of the past days surged to the surface. She raised her voice. “Hail the bandits!”

Behind her, she heard Gerta sigh. “Did she just-”

“Yes.” Danielle raised her voice. “Talia, please try to remember that not all of us share your gifts.”

“So stay out of my way.” Talia stopped in the middle of the road to wait. She had already spotted one bandit perched in the trees. The pheasant had landed almost within arm’s reach, and he was trying unsuccessfully to shoo it away.

Others stepped out from hiding. Talia counted seven, including the one in the tree. Add a few more coming up behind, and there could be as many as a dozen. They looked more cold and miserable than dangerous. Most were bundled in jackets and furs, making it all but impossible to tell male from female. The apparent leader brandished a gleaming hunting knife twice the size of Talia’s blade.

“Put that toy away, girl.” A woman, middle-aged from the sound of it.

Talia gave a quick peek over her shoulder, making sure Danielle and Gerta were staying back. They had dismounted, and were standing behind the reindeer. Good thinking.

“Nobody’s going to hurt you,” the bandit woman went on. “Not unless we have to.”

“I want that one, Mother,” said a girl wearing a goatskin wrap. “The red-haired one with the pretty boots and the fancy jacket.”

Talia smiled and pulled out a small purse. The two closest bandits raised weapons. One carried a small spear, the other a leather sling. From the way it hung, he had already loaded a stone or metal shot. Talia simply twirled the purse, then tossed it to the ground with a clink. “You’re welcome to all the gold we have. All you have to do is take it.”

She glanced at Gerta, who nodded and turned to face the other way. Gerta’s magic should make sure nobody came up from behind. Talia turned her attention back to the man with the sling.

She didn’t have long to wait. He looked to his leader, and the sling drooped slightly.

Talia whipped the knife through the air. It lodged in his forearm, and he fell back with a cry. Talia was already twisting to the side by the time the spearman threw. She slapped the spear away and grimaced. She would have a bruise on her forearm from that one.

For days she had faced demons and wizards. She had lost her best friend and stood helpless to protect the prince. She had watched the capital of Allesandria fall, and throughout it all she had wanted nothing more than an opponent with whom she could stand and fight. Now the bandits had given her that opportunity.

The battle was disappointingly short. Most of the bandits had fallen or fled by the time Talia squared off against their leader. Of the five that remained, three were unconscious or choosing to pretend. The other two were crawling away. Talia grinned and twirled a single-edged short sword she had taken from one man. “That’s a nice knife you’ve got there…”

Soon Talia, Danielle, and Gerta were bundling their newfound supplies together. The bandits hadn’t been carrying much, but they had extra cloaks and blankets, not to mention better weapons.

“You enjoyed that.” Danielle sounded like she hadn’t decided whether she should be annoyed or amused. She strapped the short sword to her belt. “And where did you get that purse?”

“You don’t want to know.” Talia tucked the bandit woman’s knife through her belt and hid a second, smaller dagger in her boot. “Besides, better I deal with them than our darkling friend.” She rubbed her arm.

“Let me see that,” said Gerta.

“I’m fine.”

“Flesh and bone against spear?” Gerta scooped a handful of snow. “Sure you are. Hold this against the arm for the swelling.”

Talia hissed as Gerta pressed the snow to her arm, but she didn’t pull away. “It’s just a bruise.”

“You’re lucky.”

“Luck had nothing to do with it.” Though her timing was off. She had grown too used to the added strength and speed of the cape.

“Come on,” said Danielle. “If you’re through playing, we have fairies to find.”

The next day and a half passed without incident, as the darkling carried them higher into the mountains. The air was colder here, freezing the inside of Talia’s nostrils each time she inhaled. With fewer trees to block the wind, she had taken to riding with her head down, the hood of her stolen cloak pulled low.

The darkling stopped without warning, twin reindeer shaking their heads in unison. When he refused to move, Talia slid to the ground and stretched. The snow was ankle-deep, swirling in the wind like the desert sands of home. “What is this place?”

“We’re on an old mining road,” said Gerta. “The mountains are riddled with them.”

The reindeer stepped together, melting into the darkling’s humanoid form.

“This is where we’ll find help?” Talia searched the landscape, finding nothing but snow-covered outcroppings, gnarled trees, and the overgrown hint of the old road.

“They’re watching us.” Gerta turned in a slow circle. “I can’t tell you where it’s coming from. There could be a glamour of some sort. If I had my mirrors-” She flinched. “Snow’s mirrors, I mean.”

Danielle blew on her hands for warmth before tucking them back beneath her arms. She straightened and called out, “I am Danielle of Lorindar. The Duchess of Fairytown said you would help us.”

“The Duchess is far too free with other people’s secrets.” The voice came from an orange-hued rise of rock to their left, which appeared to have been carved away to clear a path for the road. Knife in hand, Talia moved cautiously toward the rock.

Green-tarnished metal poked through the drifted snow at its base. Talia knelt, brushing away the snow to reveal a copper cone that appeared to have been hammered point-first into a crack in the rock. The rim was pitted, and flakes of metal fell away at her touch. Warm air wafted from a small hole in the back of the cone.

Danielle crouched beside Talia. “We wish to speak to Bellum and Veleris.”

“And so you have.” This was a new voice, deeper than the first. “We’ve granted your wish. Now go away.”

“Please,” said Danielle. “We need your help.”

“Ask for her still-beating heart,” said the second voice, chuckling. “See if she’s serious.”

“Hush.” That was the original speaker again. “All are welcome here, Princess. To the right, you should see a small doorway.”

Talia and Gerta dug away more snow until they found a square doorway built into the earth, edged by stacked stones. A rusted ring hung from the center. “That door wasn’t there a moment ago,” said Talia.

“It was.” Gerta was frowning at the door. “We just couldn’t see it.”

Danielle reached for the ring, but Talia moved to stop her. “Let me. We don’t know what’s on the other side.”

Talia yanked, and the door scraped open, revealing a tunnel that sloped down into the darkness. Fog puffed out like the breath of the mountain. Wooden beams were pressed into the earth, forming crude stairs.

“Don’t stand there all day,” said the second voice. “You’re letting the heat out.”

“And what’s waiting for us at the end of this tunnel?” Talia asked. There was room to enter, but she would have to crawl. Meaning anyone on the far side would have an easy time dispatching intruders.

“Only one way to find out.” Laugher followed her from the metal cone. “We meant what we said. Everyone is welcome to enter. Whether you’ll be allowed to leave is another matter entirely.”