The Snow Queen's Shadow (18 page)

“She doesn’t know who . . .
what
I am,” Gerta said softly. “She burned my memory from her mind, and Talia’s cape shields us from her vision.”

“For now.” Laurence began to pace. “Years ago, Queen Beatrice promised me Ermillina would never return to this land. I’m familiar with Beatrice’s gifts, crude and untrained though they were. She gave me her word. Yet my cousin has murdered at least two members of the Nobles’ Circle. Her spells have enslaved hundreds.”

“Beatrice told the truth,” Gerta said. “Sight such as hers was often unreliable, even more so when one tries to see beyond one’s death.” She bit her lip at that, looking suddenly vulnerable.

“I trusted her.” Laurence’s knuckles were white around his scepter. “How many of my people are dead today because I allowed your queen to talk me into helping Ermillina escape?”

The beat of Talia’s blood threatened to drown out the king’s words. “Her mother tried to murder her,” she snapped. “You ‘helped’ her by stealing her throne for yourself.”

The room fell still. Danielle cleared her throat. “Talia, you’re not helping.”

Laurence no longer bothered to hide his anger. “Allesandria never would have allowed Rose’s daughter to—”

“How many people are dead today because you were too weak or afraid to stand up for a young girl whose only crime was to protect herself from a murderer?” Talia finished.

“I could have argued on her behalf,” Laurence admitted. “I could have defied the Circle, lent my voice to Ermillina Curtana . . . and I would have been shouted down, sent back to the eastern provinces while another claimed the throne. One less willing to allow the daughter of Rose Curtana to live, even in exile.”

“You should tell her that when she arrives,” said Talia. “I’m sure she’ll be very interested in your excuses.”

Danielle stood. “I must have misunderstood the plan.” She matched Talia’s stare. “I thought we had come to search for the means Rose Curtana used to imprison this demon. Not to provoke an incident between Lorindar and Allesandria.”

Talia’s blood pounded hot in her veins. She opened her mouth to respond.

“Which is more important?” Danielle asked mildly. “Venting your anger, or helping Snow?”

Talia clamped her jaw and slowly lowered herself into her chair.

“What is right is not always what is possible or practical,” said Laurence. “I wish every story ended as neatly as that of Cinderella—”

Danielle raised an eyebrow.

“—but we live in a world where fear and greed overrule justice. A world where a mother tries to murder her own daughter out of jealousy. I received the birds with their warning, thank you. We’ve taken precautions, but . . . that mirror never should have left Allesandria. If it had been destroyed—”

“Then the demon would have escaped even sooner,” said Gerta.

“This is where Rose Curtana captured it.” Danielle gestured at the walls. “Did she have a study or a laboratory, a place she might have used for such summonings?”

“My people searched every room when I took power. Four were killed by traps my aunt had left behind. Seven others were injured or driven mad. Believe me, we’ve examined this palace quite thoroughly. There is no such summoning chamber.”

“There has to be,” said Talia.

Laurence rubbed his eyes, and for a moment, the royal mask fell away to reveal worry and fatigue. “Who told you of this chamber?”

“Her name is Noita.” Gerta raised her chin. “She’s the one who helped my mother prepare it.”

“The flower witch?” Laurence gave a bitter laugh. “We hunted down most of Rose Curtana’s companions. Noita appeared harmless.”

“She’s not. I was there.” Gerta hesitated. “Snow was, I mean. We saw—She saw Noita helping our mother.”

“I will have the Stormcrows search again,” said Laurence. “But there is another possibility we must pursue. Your connection to Ermillina could give us the means to act against her.”

“We’ve tried to find Snow through Gerta,” said Danielle. “Our people—”

“Are not Allesandrian.” Laurence twisted his scepter in his hands. “When it comes to magic, Allesandria is second to none. If Gerta is who and what she appears to be, we can use her against my cousin.”

“Without harming her?” Danielle demanded.

Laurence hesitated ever so slightly. “We will do everything in our power to preserve her.”

Talia stepped between Gerta and the king.

“That’s why you allowed me to enter,” Gerta said.

“The Stormcrows advised against it,” Laurence admitted. “They feared you could be a trap. But Ermillina has avoided capture for too long. If we can strike at her through you, then I felt it worth the risk.”

“She’s a person,” said Talia, struggling to keep the wolf under control. “Not a weapon.”

Laurence started to answer, then stiffened. “Forgive me,” he said, stepping toward the wall. He pressed his fingertips to the wood trim circling the room. He rapped the end of his scepter against the wood, and a low hum filled the room. “In Allesandria, the distinction is often slim. As it turns out, the argument may be moot.”

“What do you mean?” asked Talia.

Footsteps pounded down the hallway. The door opened inward to reveal a woman in the silver mail of a Stormcrow. She bowed, speaking too softly for even Talia to overhear. Laurence clasped her arm and said, “Double the guards, and order the halls cleared.”

“What is it?” Danielle asked.

“My Stormcrows have captured Snow White. They’re bringing her to the palace now.”

CHAPTER 14

CAPTURED, NOT KILLED.
RELIEF FLOWED through Danielle, but confusion was quick to follow. What of Noita’s visions, and her own? Allesandrian magic might be powerful, but could it really be so simple to change the future? “Was Jakob with her?”

Laurence shook his head. “They took Ermillina, but there was no sign of the prince.”

“Let me speak with her,” said Danielle. “We can—”

“Whatever creature has taken her, it may try to escape to another host,” said Laurence. “The Stormcrows have done what they can to secure her, but you are defenseless as a babe, magically speaking. I cannot risk you being taken.”

“So let me go.” Talia bared her teeth. “Or do you think me defenseless as well?”

“I understand she was your . . . friend . . . and I appreciate your willingness to help.” The king took a step backward. His scepter rang once more against the wall, the sound stretching out an unnaturally long time. “Ermillina Curtana is a daughter of Allesandria. She attacked my nation, and was captured by my Stormcrows. You are welcome here, but if you accept my hospitality, it will be as guests only.”

“Can you free Snow from this demon?” Danielle asked.

“They’re not going to try.” Talia was like a statue, arms hidden beneath her cape. The Stormcrow stepped into the room, taking a protective position to Laurence’s left. “Are you?”

Laurence said nothing.

“What of my son?” demanded Danielle. “Snow is the only one who knows where he is. Kill her, and we might never find him. Would you sentence the Prince of Lorindar to death as well?”

“I’m sorry. You should prepare yourself for the worst. Ermillina was alone when she was taken, which means your son may already be—”

“Jakob. Is. Alive.” Danielle advanced upon the king, catching herself only when the Stormcrow moved to intercept her. “I
saw
him. Snow and Jakob both, in a palace of ice. He was cold and afraid and lost, but he was alive!”

“Magical visions from an old witch, one known to have been a friend to Rose Curtana.” Laurence put a hand on the Stormcrow’s shoulder, gently moving her aside. “One possible future, glimpsed by an untrained mind. My seers have looked to see what will happen if Ermillina Curtana is allowed to live. Each time, they foretell the destruction of the palace. Fire and chaos spreading through the city and beyond. I cannot risk—”

“If you do this,” Danielle said, nails digging into sweat-slick palms, “you make an enemy of Lorindar.”

“What would you do?” Laurence lowered his scepter. “Would you sacrifice Lorindar for the sake of a single child, for the
possibility
that he might yet live?”

“You sacrifice nothing by letting us speak to her.”

“Rose Curtana could kill with a single word. I am sorry, Danielle. I would save her if I could. I knew Ermillina as a child. I tried to protect her after the death of her mother. Perhaps I should have done more, but I can’t protect her anymore. Once she is dealt with, we will do everything in our power to find your son. But ultimately it is Ermillina and the demon who are responsible for her fate.

Talia spat on the floor, close to the king’s polished boots. “The magic of Allesandria is known throughout the world. Surely your mighty Stormcrows can handle a single demon.

Another Stormcrow entered, taking a position to the right of the king and whispering something too low to hear. Gerta swallowed and moved closer to Danielle.

“Give us time,” Danielle pressed. “The key to binding this demon is somewhere in the palace. Give us a week to search. A day, even, to—”

Laurence clutched the scepter in both hands. “The order has already been given. Your friend is dead.”

Danielle stared, not comprehending. Snow couldn’t be dead. The king’s words echoed in her mind.

“The scepter,” whispered Gerta. “When you struck the wall that last time. That’s when you gave the order.”

Talia lunged at the king. The closer Stormcrow raised her hands, but Talia was faster. Her fist twisted into the Stormcrow’s mail, and she tossed the other woman as though she were a toy. Gerta jumped back as the Stormcrow crashed through the table. The second Stormcrow waved his hands, and the chairs shot at Talia, shattering against her back. It stunned her for a moment, but she shook off the debris and leaped.

“Talia, stop!” Danielle rushed toward her, knowing she wasn’t fast enough. Talia was impossibly swift even without the red cape. With the cape’s magic, she could kill the king before anyone else had time to draw weapons.

Laurence raised his scepter. Talia caught it in one hand and drew back her fist.

Lightning crackled along the scepter’s length. Laurence shifted his grip, twisting it free, then slamming the butt into the side of Talia’s head. Blue sparks popped from the scepter as he twirled it about, aiming it at Talia.

Talia’s hand was red and blistered. She touched her temple as she rose. With her other hand, she pulled the cape around her body.

Danielle stepped between them, facing Talia. “My son is out there.
Jakob is still alive.”
He had to be. “That skin lets you track like a wolf. Between that and Laurence’s magic, we might yet be able to find him. Would you let Jakob die, too?”

At first, Talia didn’t move. Only the rapid flare of her nostrils showed she was still breathing. Her pupils were tiny black beads, looking past Danielle to the king. A group of Stormcrows had gathered behind him in the hallway, but he raised a hand, keeping them back.

“I need you,” Danielle said.

Talia shuddered once, violently. Blood and tears dripped down her cheek, and her hands trembled.

Danielle grabbed her shoulder. Talia’s other arm jerked up to strike Danielle’s hand away. She hesitated, then brought her hand down on Danielle’s. Her grip threatened to break bones.

“Are you sure, Cousin?” Gerta asked softly.

Laurence frowned. “Sure of what?”

“That Snow White is truly dead?”

Talia’s shoulders jerked at Gerta’s words. Danielle held tight, though she wasn’t strong enough to stop Talia should she choose to do something impulsive. But for the moment, the fight appeared to have drained from her.

“We’re connected, yet I felt nothing,” Gerta continued.

“You believe we executed an imposter.” He pursed his lips. “Others have tried to infiltrate the palace, sending spies under cover of illusion or shapeshifting into innocuous forms. One of the early kings of Allesandria was killed when his brother secretly replaced six grapes at dinner with tiny elementals, transformed by magic.”

“Why send an imposter?” asked one of the Stormcrows. “Knowing she would be bound, unable to perform magic or act against us.”

“Perhaps so we would call off our hunt,” said Laurence. “But our protections are built for such trickery. I’m familiar with the shapeshifting magic her mother used. Such spells would not fool us. The Stormcrows can peer beneath the flesh of their prisoner to see the very core of the person.”

“A core tainted by Snow’s mirrors,” Danielle said. Hope and despair threatened to rip her in two. “Mirrors which carry a fragment of Snow herself into everyone she infects.”

“My mother underestimated her, too,” said Gerta. “Snow and I are magically bound. I doubt I could even survive with her dead.”

Laurence’s eyes narrowed. “Does that mean—”

“No,” Gerta said quickly. “I’m but a small part of the whole. Killing me would destroy whatever remains of Snow’s humanity, but the demon would survive.”

Danielle kissed Talia’s brow, then turned her full attention to Laurence. “Your Majesty, whoever you killed, it was not our friend. If you hope to prevent those visions, I suggest you let us see the body.”

Laurence was already whispering to his Stormcrows. Two left at a run, presumably heading toward the body. “Come with me. If Gerta is right about her bond, she should be able to tell us for certain whether it was my cousin we brought into the palace.”

Talia followed the others through the curving hallways. There were few corners, only passages that wove to and fro like knot work. The wolf’s anger surged through her with each step, but every time it ebbed, it left only emptiness. Every step eroded away a little more of her soul.

No, Gerta was right. She had to be. Snow was alive.

Talia wiped her cheek with her shoulder. Her face throbbed where King Laurence’s scepter had struck, and the skin of her hand was blistered, pain flaring with every movement.

“This place reminds me of Mother,” said Gerta. “Caked in plaster and whitewash, decorated in too much gold leaf. Give me the naked stone of the summer palace, the exposed beams and the honest strength of the walls.”

The king brought them to a wide marble staircase. “This leads into the Stormcrows’ tower,” he said, hurrying up to the heavy oak doors at the top of the stairs. A rap of his scepter opened the doors, and lanterns flared to life inside.

Snow White lay in the center of the room, her skin even paler than normal. Her throat had been cut. Blood stained her cloak and shirt bright red. Candles burned at the corners of a chalk rectangle around her body. Her hands and feet were bound with chains of blue metal.

“The chains inhibit her magic,” Laurence said softly. “From the moment she was captured, she was unable to use spellcraft. Her ice wasps were destroyed. Any that tried to follow would have been stopped by the magic of the palace walls.”

The sound that wrenched from Talia’s throat was somewhere between a whimper and a shout. Nobody tried to stop her from approaching the body, but as she reached the chalk marks, she found herself unable to move closer. Nothing pushed her away, but when she tried to take another step, her foot slipped to the side. She stretched out, and her arm was deflected to the left.

She dropped to one knee. She could smell the wards, like dust and honey. The smell grew stronger as she pressed one hand toward Snow, but the more she forced her hand forward, the more that force was turned against her.

“Even the magic of your cape isn’t strong enough to break through this barrier,” Laurence said.

“Why?” Talia gestured at the rectangle.

“If this is truly who it appears, then the demon was banished with her death, but we don’t know what other protections she might have carried. It will take days to cleanse her body. Until we do, nothing can pass in or out of the wards.”

Gerta sighed. “Only this isn’t her body.”

“Where was she captured?” Danielle asked. Her body was taut, and she blinked back tears as she looked at Snow.

“In the mountains to the north.”

The mountains. If Jakob was alive, that was where they should start hunting for him. For him and for Snow.

Talia closed her eyes, choosing Gerta’s truth over the evidence before her. What did the demon gain? This was more than simply an attempt to throw the Stormcrows off of her trail. Could the body be diseased? Plague was a mundane threat . . . but it was too slow and uncertain a weapon. Anything carried by the imposter was trapped with her.

She spun toward Laurence. “Who captured her?”

“Selerin led a force of six Stormcrows.” He bowed his head. “Two were killed in the fighting. A third was badly injured, though he will survive.”

Meaning four had returned with the body. Snow could have infected them—Or would Laurence’s magic have detected that? Inspector Relmar had recognized the demon’s touch, back on the
Phillipa
. Better to sneak her mirror shards into the palace, but how would she hide their magic?

“Those chains,” she whispered. “Do all of your Stormcrows carry them?”

“Yes,” said Laurence.

And Snow had fought and killed any number of Stormcrows. “What would happen if a splinter of glass were set within one of the links?”

“The metal would render it inert.” Laurence’s expression turned grim. “Until something jostled them free.”

“The injured Stormcrow.” Snow could have planted the chain on him during the fight. All it would take was for a single splinter to fall free, at which point its magic would return. It would pull the cold and moisture from the air, using its ice body to climb up and infect the Stormcrow, who could then shake the rest loose.

“Where are Selerin and the others?” Laurence demanded.

“They left after the execution,” said one of the Stormcrows, an older woman with a collection of silver-and-gold rings squeezed onto the fingers of her left hand. A minor enchantment decorated her fingernails, which shone and changed color like the sunrise. An intricate tattoo of interlinked symbols circled her bald pate like a crown.

Laurence’s scepter rang against the wall.

“Spiderweb,” Gerta said. “A spider’s silk is strong enough to hold a shard of glass. Even I could command spiders to weave their webs into the links of the chain.”

The older Stormcrow took the king’s arm. “Your Majesty, if there’s a chance this demon has infiltrated the palace, we must get you to safety.”

The king’s response was far too coarse and common for royalty. He kept his scepter pressed to the wall. “There are reports of a commotion at the library.”

“You underestimated her,” said Talia.

He didn’t try to deny it. “Ermillina was never formally schooled.”