Red Hood's Revenge (5 page)

“Danielle?” Beatrice’s brown eyes, so similar to Armand’s, never left Danielle. Those eyes were gentle, even compassionate, as though she knew exactly what was going through Danielle’s mind.

Talia looked from Beatrice to Danielle. “You’ve got to be joking.”

“You think I should let Roudette kill my stepsister?” Danielle asked.

“I think I should have killed her myself when I had the chance,” Talia shot back.

“You’re probably right.” Danielle watched the queen, trying to read her expression. How could she explain her conflict to Talia when she didn’t understand it herself? All she had to do was sit back and do nothing, and her stepsister would die. Danielle wouldn’t even have to be the one to order Charlotte’s death. Danielle’s hands would be clean.

Beatrice nodded ever so slightly.

“We left Charlotte in Fairytown,” Danielle said. “Alone, bound to a fairy master. It’s possible the years have changed her.”

Snow glanced up. “It’s also possible beanstalks will start growing out of my—”

“Roudette took Charlotte, but if I do nothing, then I share the responsibility for Charlotte’s death.”

“So where’s the problem?” asked Talia. “For all we know, Charlotte was the one who hired Roudette to kill you!”

“Hired her with what? Even if she wanted me dead, she’d never cut off her own toe to do it.”

“
If
she wanted you dead?” Talia repeated. “Were you paying attention the last time she tried to kill you? If she were in your position, she’d let you die in a heartbeat.”

“I know,” Danielle whispered, thinking of her mother. “That’s why I have to be better than she is.”

Talia turned to the queen. “She’s mad.”

“So we do it your way,” Danielle said. “We let her die. What then? You think Roudette will simply give up and go home? If threatening Charlotte doesn’t lure me into the open, Roudette will keep killing until she finds someone who will. At least this way we know where she’ll be.”

“Never let the enemy define the battle,” Talia said. “Choose your own battlefield. Make her come to you, on your terms.”

“Talia is right.” Beatrice pushed herself to her feet, leaning heavily on her staff. “You cannot go. Roudette would likely kill you if you tried to save your stepsister. You’re Princess of Lorindar. Think of your people. Think of your husband and child. You know what it’s like to lose a mother. Would you do that to Jakob?”

“That’s not fair,” Danielle whispered.

“I know.” Beatrice took her hand. “Snow and Talia will go to Stone Grove. They will save Charlotte if they can.” That last was spoken with a stern look at Talia. “However, their first priority will be to protect you by stopping Roudette.”

Trittibar cleared his throat. “I would like to accompany them, Your Majesty. Assuming Talia will allow it. The Lady of the Red Hood has tormented my people for many years. Those I serve would be pleased to see her punished for her actions.”

Talia looked as though she had eaten something sour, but she said nothing.

“So my friends risk their lives while I stay safely hidden behind these walls?” Danielle knew Beatrice was right, and she hated it. Snow had magic enough to protect herself, and Talia had fought Roudette before and lived. What could Danielle do? Summon a mob of squirrels to pelt Roudette with nuts?

“I understand how you feel,” said Beatrice. “What do you think it’s like for me each time I send you out? But this is what must be done.” To Snow and Talia she said, “Stone Grove is less than a day’s ride. You leave tonight.”

Snow groaned. “We have until sunset tomorrow. Wouldn’t it be better to leave
after
a good night’s sleep? Maybe midmorning, after a nice warm breakfast?”

“Giving Roudette time to rest while she waits for us?” asked Talia. “I’d rather face a groggy murderer, myself.”

Beatrice smiled. “Go and prepare for your journey. And be safe.”

T
ALIA UNSTRAPPED TWO FLAT KNIVES from her right thigh, where the hem of her tunic had hidden them from casual view. She handed both weapons to Danielle. They were simple single-edged blades. Not great for throwing, but with Danielle’s aim, that hardly mattered. Talia had sharpened both knives herself less than a week ago, and they should serve Danielle well if she was attacked in close quarters. “Your sword is good, but you’ll be safer with a few extra blades hidden away.”

“Assuming Jakob doesn’t get his hands on them.” Danielle examined the sheathed knives. “Snow’s wards should keep Roudette away from the palace.”

“Do you want to trust your life to magic?” Talia opened the chapel doors and checked the courtyard. “Do you want to trust Jakob’s? Better to be safe, Princess.”

Danielle nodded and hiked up her gown so she could strap one of the knives to her right leg, below the knee. Talia helped her attach the other to her forearm.

“Stay in the palace until we return,” said Talia. “If you sneak after us, thinking you can help, I swear I’ll kill you myself.”

Danielle pulled the sleeve of her gown over the knife. “I won’t. I don’t like the idea of letting a killer confine me to my home, but—”

“Roudette is no ordinary killer.” Talia tugged Danielle’s sleeve down, then studied her to make sure the weapons weren’t noticeable. “Do you remember what I told you when your stepsister tried to kill you in your room?”

“Forget dignity and scream like a frightened child,” Danielle recited, smiling slightly. “I’ll be fine, Talia. I’m more worried about you and Snow and Trittibar.”

“Don’t be.” Talia escorted Danielle back to the northwest tower, making sure the extra guardsmen were at their posts. She grabbed the closest by the sleeve. “Princess Danielle is to go nowhere without armed escort, by order of Queen Beatrice.”

He gave a quick bow. Unlike Danielle, Talia had never been friends with most of the palace staff, but they knew who she was and that she served Queen Beatrice directly.

Danielle sighed. “Talia—”

“Remember, if you evade your bodyguard, he’s the one who gets disciplined for losing you.” Talia hurried away, heading for the royal quarters and the hidden stairway within the fireplace.

The room shared by the king and queen was empty. Talia jabbed a hidden stone in the fireplace to open the passage, then descended through the darkness until she reached the bottom of the stairs. There, oil lamps flickered beside an arched doorway. In the armory beyond, weapons of all shapes and sizes hung on whitewashed walls. Most were bladed, ranging from a tiny razor hidden within a gold ring to a sword as tall as Talia herself. There were also staves, clubs, and various missile weapons. Talia had bought or commissioned many of them herself.

A mosaic map of Lorindar covered the ceiling. Slate ships moved through lapis lazuli seas, each tile magically bound to an actual ship of Lorindar.

Talia studied the walls as carefully as a master chef selecting the ingredients for a banquet. She picked out several throwing knives, as well as two curved Arathean daggers long enough for hand-to-hand fighting. A single-edged short sword went onto the back of her belt. She also retrieved her zaraq whip, a spindle-shaped weapon with a thin line of troll hair connected to a sharp lead weight.

Rubbing the scar on her forearm, Talia moved to the far side of the wall where several sets of armor hung from wooden pegs. She grabbed a pair of black leather bracers and tried them on, making sure they wouldn’t prevent her from drawing the knives on her arms.

From there, she passed through the far doorway into the library and laboratory where Snow was working. Shelves lined the walls, bowing under the weight of collected scrolls, tomes, and other oddities. Old barnacle-encrusted jars filled one shelf. Another held a small, horned skull with a crack down the center. A troll-hair weaving sat in a discarded lump in the corner.

Snow didn’t appear to have noticed Talia’s presence. She sat on a stool in front of her famous mirror. Beside her was a scarred and heavily stained wooden table, currently bare save for Roudette’s box and an untouched mug of tea.

The magic mirror was as tall as Snow herself, liquid smooth and framed in platinum. At the moment, it showed only Snow’s reflection as she grimaced and leaned closer, examining her appearance. She touched the corner of her eye, stretching the skin as if to hide the faint wrinkles there.

“You’re beautiful,” said Talia. “Get over it.”

“I know.” Snow spoke without conceit or pride, but she didn’t pull away. “I doubt I’d be the fairest in the land anymore, though.”

“Depends on which land.” Anything more Talia might say would only make them both uncomfortable. Instead, she fell back on familiar banter. “Are you going to spend the whole day admiring yourself? We
do
have a killer to catch, remember?”

Snow brushed her fingers through her hair, picked at a few white strands, and grimaced.

“If it bothers you so much, there are dyes—”

“That’s cheating.” Snow tossed her hair back and flashed a carefree smile. “My mother used them all as she got older. It’s not the same.” She reached over to take Roudette’s note from the box.

Talia moved closer, hopping up to sit on the edge of the table where she would have a better view.

Snow touched the note to the glass. “Mirror, mirror, hear my plea. Show the killer Red to me.”

“Not bad,” said Talia. “The second part was a little forced, but it’s better than some of your other rhymes.”

“Hush.” Snow stuck out her tongue. Her reflection rippled and faded. Red smoke filled the glass, swirling like bloody fog and obscuring all but a shadow that might have been a woman.

“Didn’t this happen last time, too?” Talia asked.

“It’s her cape.” Snow picked up the cup of tea and sipped absently. Her face wrinkled. She whispered a quick spell, and steam began to rise from the mug. “It’s enchanted to deflect magic.”

“A useful quality for an assassin.”

Snow took another drink, still frowning at the mirror. The smoke thinned briefly, and for a moment Talia spotted hard-packed earth and pale tree roots. A blur of brown passed through the image.

“What was that?” Talia asked.

“I’m not sure.” Snow pressed her fingers to the glass, but the smoke had already obscured whatever it was. “Could have been her shoes, or it could have been a frightened chipmunk.”

“How close is she to Stone Grove?” Talia grimaced. “Trittibar’s fairy falcon is fast enough to make the trip in an hour. If we had to, we could—”

“She’s already there.” Snow stared at the mirror. “I can’t see her, but those roots were definitely from Stone Grove.”

“That’s impossible. Even at a full gallop, she couldn’t have killed Rumpelstilzchen and made it back so quickly.” Talia squinted at the red smoke. “Are you sure your magic is working right?”

Snow set down the mug and the note and turned to face Talia. “You’re welcome to take a turn if you think you can do better. My mother didn’t exactly leave a book of instructions for this thing. I could spend the rest of my life trying to unravel its secrets.”

“So if Roudette’s hidden, what about Charlotte?”

Snow plucked Charlotte’s toe from the box and held it to the mirror. “Mirror tell us what you know. Find the bitch without a toe.”

“I like that one,” said Talia.

The red smoke thinned enough to make out Danielle’s stepsister. Tree roots as thick as Talia’s leg snaked past Charlotte’s body. Her arms were bound at the wrists and elbows, and had been secured to the tree roots. Her legs were stretched out, tied at the ankles. A blood-soaked bandage circled her right foot.

“There’s your proof.” Snow pointed to the smoke that continued to dance and curl at the edge of the image. “Roudette’s with Charlotte, close enough that her cape is interfering with my mirror.” Almost as an afterthought, she added, “She looks awful.”

“It’s a good look for her.” Charlotte’s pale face was filthy, save where tears had streaked the dirt. The brown curls of her hair were short and knotted. Old scars around her eyes marred her once-smooth beauty. She wore only a torn, filthy gown which hung loosely from her shoulders. Talia leaned closer. “What’s wrong with those trees?”

Snow massaged the back of her skull. “You really need to spend more time in the library. One of the earliest battles between humans and fairies was fought at Stone Grove. The dryads slaughtered more than a hundred men before our wizards managed to petrify the first of the trees. As the battle shifted in our favor, the dryads changed tactics, toppling their trees onto the attackers. They say the last dryad gathered up the seeds of her companions and disappeared. One day, when their new trees mature, they’ll return to seek vengeance against us.”

Talia shrugged. “Let me know when they’re all grown up, and I’ll deal with them too.”

Charlotte’s eyes were round with fear, her focus jumping constantly from one point to the next. She reminded Talia of a frightened animal.