Of Sorcery and Snow (34 page)

A few wolves abandoned King Licivvil to go after Kezelda, but the Snow Queen raised a hand. “No, let her go. It's regrettable, of course, that Kezelda and her sisters have succumbed to the Ever Afters' trickery, but one clever illusion spell should not be enough to break our alliance. Our armies would be stronger without those with such weak allegiances.”

I barely kept the fury off my troll-glamoured face—she was just going to pretend that the Director had made it up?

The Snow Queen turned to the green-skinned witches. “I trust you agree, witches of the Wolfsbane clan?”

One of the older-looking ones, bald under her hood, spoke up. “We have seen this already, as have all the witch clans, but its truth or falsehood doesn't concern us. We only ask that you allow us the opportunity to kill the Character named Aurora Landon.”

I felt Lena peeking at me, and I froze, afraid to gulp or do anything else to give myself away.

“Granted, gladly,” said the Snow Queen indifferently. “The girl is not significant.”

“Aurora Landon has made an enemy of the Wolfsbane clan for life,” replied the old green-skinned witch, “and we will see her dead.”

Death seemed a little harsh.

“You're not the only one,” said Ferdinand the Unfaithful, rubbing his jaw, and in the back, I saw Jimmy Searcaster's SUV-size head nodding.

I'd made a lot of enemies without realizing it. If the Snow Queen sent them after my family at the same time, I'd never be able to fight them all off.

The Snow Queen frowned just a little, the first time that morning that her gracious hostess act had slipped. She opened her mouth to say something else, but then a shadow crossed the doorway.

“We have arrived, Your Majesty,” said Genevieve Searcaster, leaning on her basilisk-wrapped cane. A boulder with cement-gray wings sat on Searcaster's shoulder—Ori'an. Behind her ankles, a cloaked figure snuck in. He was human-size, but his wings tented the material above his shoulders. Like
that
fooled anybody. It had to be Torlauth.

Another colossal, blue-skinned figure stepped up behind Searcaster. Likon.

My heart sank. They'd found him. Searcaster had probably broken Lena's disorientation spell.

The whole audience scrambled out of the giants' way.

“Now,” Hadriane-the-troll whispered in my ear.

Right. No one was looking at the balcony. Even the Snow Queen's gaze was fixed on her giants.

The black door under the balcony was locked, but Chase had it open an instant after he touched it. Hadriane slipped through after him, then Forrel, then Lena, and I brought up the rear. I looked back once.

Following Searcaster inside, Likon grinned, showing off teeth the exact same color as a fresh bruise. In each fist he carried a struggling winged figure.

Fael and the Seelie prince, the first Fey hostages in the Snow Queen's second war.

one of us wanted to talk about it.

So Lena just let the fluffy fox down in the long, dim tunnel behind the door. She bounded off, and we ran after her, clamping our hands on our weapons and packs to keep them from jingling. The floor was even but kind of slippery.

That wasn't a forum in there. It was a war council.

If only we'd known Solange was out, we could have stopped her from regathering her armies. If only we hadn't given her exactly what she needed to break out of prison. . . . No, I couldn't think like that. Hadriane was right—it didn't help anyone if I kept worrying about something I couldn't change. The quest was the only thing that mattered now.

The tunnel hit a dead-end. One sputtering torch lit up three more black doors, the Snow Queen's symbol carved under their doorknobs. All metal, not wood.

The fox pawed at the one on the left.

“Ready?” Forrel-the-troll asked, his spear slightly raised. Chase unsheathed his sword and nodded, his tusked face grim. Hadriane turned the handle, and I made sure to step in front of Lena, who just looked stunned.

The door swung open to a bright room full of small, round
tables. On each of them was a white card propped against a small chest of gold coins.

Not so scary,
I thought, relaxing just slightly, but then a furry gray head popped up in the back. “You're not supposed to be here!” the wolf barked. “All trolls are to stand beside the doors and wait for Her Majesty's orders. Go back where you came from.”

At least we knew Chase's glamour was still working.

“Pretty,” Hadriane grunted, moving toward the closest coins as if entranced. Behind her, Forrel raised his spear.

“Dumb trolls! This is the third time this week!” The gray wolf trotted forward, weaving through the little tables. “Do something!”

A second voice piped up, much closer to us. A small red-brown wolf sat just inside the door. “Calm down. We know what to do. This way, trolls. Back in the entrance hall are the prettiest pretties of them all.”

I stared at them, dumbfounded. Promising trolls “the prettiest pretties” never actually worked, did it? Even trolls weren't
that
stupid.

“Just two?” Forrel asked Chase in a low voice.

“Looks like,” Chase replied.

The red-brown wolf's ears pricked up. “What?”

Then Chase's sword slid through his neck. Forrel's spear sailed through the air and nailed the gray wolf through the heart. That one gave a sort of strangled yelp, but then it was still.

The room filled with the metallic smell of blood. My stomach churned.

Hadriane squatted down and peered through the tables' legs, checking for hiding wolves. “Do you see any more?” I still couldn't look at the wolves' bodies. Instead, I moved to the closest table and picked up the little card leaning against the coin chest.
KING LICIVVIL
, it read.

The little fox sniffed at the first wolf, mildly interested, until Forrel pulled his spear free of its heart. “It seems we have found the treasury,” the dwarf said.

“You mean the bribe room,” said Chase, holding another name card. “I bet the Snow Queen only brings them back here after they've sworn Binding Oaths of allegiance.”

“But only two wolves to guard them?” Hadriane said. “There must be some trick.”

“Her wolves and trolls are spread kind of thin,” Lena said. “Didn't it seem weird that she started the meeting without General Searcaster?”

This was as close as any of us had gotten to talking about the meeting.

“These coins—” I picked one up. Just touching it made me shiver. It had Solange's face on it, complete with her favorite icicle crown. “I mean, if you're trying to bribe people, shouldn't the chests be bigger?”

“Maybe she's hard-pressed for money too,” Chase said hopefully.

“I found her accounts ledger!” Lena was probably the only Character in the world who bypassed all the coins in a treasury and went straight for a book instead. The ledger was bound in silver leather, small but thick. She started to read. “‘General Genevieve Searcaster: 35 coins—paid. 50 children—handpicked, to be exchanged after meeting.'”

My hands balled into fists without me realizing it, and I crumpled the name card in my hand. “There's something wrong with the world if a kid is worth less than a gold coin.”

“Maybe there's Fey fudge inside. I mean, which is tastier?” Chase said. The joke was so inappropriate that I just stared at him.
Hadriane didn't need to hear Searcaster might eat the twins.

The princess crossed to the corner of the room where the fox waited. “We can't stay and examine the treasury. The children are more important.”

“You know, Chase,” I said, as we streamed around the tables, “sometimes I wish someone would stop you from saying stuff like that. Your big mouth is going to get you in trouble someday.”

Chase grinned, but before he could say anything else, Forrel slapped a hand over Chase's mouth, silencing him.

It was so unexpected and un-Forrel-like that I started to giggle. Lena and Hadriane too.

Chase shoved Forrel's hand away and glared at the dwarf. “Dude, not funny!”

“I didn't—” the dwarf sputtered, mortified. “I—my hand—it had a mind of its own.”

“You just watch your back, dwarf,” Chase said, “because sometime soon, when you least expect it, I'll—”

Lena gasped. “Rory, you're holding a coin, right? Look at the coin!”

This was such a bizarre request that I didn't question it. I just opened my palm and checked. “Oh, weird—it changed colors.” Now it was a tarnished sort of pewter—the metal around Solange's carved face had gone black.

Lena stared at the coins on the table beside her. “It's a portable wish.”

“Like the one that you used at the ball?” Chase asked.

Lena nodded. “Mia kept sneaking around the workshop, going through my papers. She must have found the recipe for a wish. But you saw it. That recipe makes a liquefied wish in a tiny jar. The Snow Queen has bound it to the metal. . . .” She scowled down
at them for a second, thinking. “Quick. Take as many as you can carry.”

“Yeah, I guess the Director will want to see them.” I scooped up a handful of coins and shoved them in my pocket.

“We are wasting
time
,” Hadriane snapped. A frayed rope hung in the corner behind her. The fox jumped up, gripped it firmly between her teeth, and yanked. With the squeak of ice rubbing against ice, the walls rumbled apart, revealing a hidden stairwell twisting down into the darkness.

Oh yeah—like
that
was inviting.

The fox bounded down the steps, her fluffy tail waving at us as she moved out of sight.

“No, we need
all
the coins,” Lena said. “What if one of the Snow Queen's allies makes a wish like I did—that no one can see them even if they're in front of you? What if you face someone a month from now who has wished that his blade would kill one hundred warriors before the battle ends?”

“Okay, okay, we get it.” Chase picked up the heaviest chest he could find and poured it into the front pocket of his carryall.

But Hadriane was right too. There were dozens of chests here. We couldn't really spare the time to get them all.

The princess stomped over to the nearest table and picked up a coin. “I wish that no one—whether it be the Snow Queen, her allies, or enemies—be able to remove a coin from these tables.”

“Oh. Good idea,” I said, but Chase lifted a coin out of the nearest chest and raised one skeptical eyebrow.

“That wish is too big,” Lena said encouragingly. “You need to add a limitation. Like, unless you sing the ABC's backward fourteen times in a row, or some sort of time limit.”

“Until a hundred years have passed,” Hadriane added.

When Chase tried to collect another coin, it stayed there no matter how hard he yanked, like the whole pile had been superglued down. “Yep. That did it.”

“We go
now,
” Hadriane said. “As soon as they reach this room, they will know that someone has interfered.”

Forrel nodded. “And if the Snow Queen can't give them the coins, she will go straight for the children instead.”

The dwarf princess disappeared down the secret stairway. I went next, trying hard not to think about how far down we were going, trying not to imagine what would happen if my foot missed a step. . . .

Finally the stairway stopped twisting and opened into a cramped chamber. Thick icicles hung from the ceiling, heavy-looking and tipped with sharp, gleaming points. Under them, two doors stood opposite each other.

The one made out of rusting iron was massive—wider and taller than a bridge troll. The bars over the window were crooked, like someone had bent them out of shape and then bent them back.

But the smaller one made my heart stop. It was the first wooden one I'd seen. It wasn't the cracked, ancient wood from my dream, but except for its pale color, it was almost identical. Etched into the metal under the small silver handle was that scrolling
S
, with a snowflake hanging out in the bottom curve.