Jim Hines - The Snow Queen's shadow

Jakob shook his head.

Snow’s smile returned. “He knows better, Talia.” She tilted her hand, digging the point of the glass shard into Jakob’s skin. “If you care to test your fairy reflexes against me, keep moving.” Moonlight quivered on the ceiling, reflected from her blade.

Talia raised her hands. Whatever was influencing Snow, she wasn’t as confident as she sounded. Otherwise she would have already struck. “You can’t hide here forever.”

“I don’t intend to. But before I depart, I had hoped to leave a gift for King Theodore, to thank him for his hospitality these past seven years. A single scratch, and his grief will end.”

“You’re leaving?” The question slipped out before Talia could stop it.

Snow leaned forward. “I could do the same for you, Talia. I know the pain of leaving your home, your lover, everything you’ve ever known. Tell me, does your heart still ache for the twin sons you’ve twice abandoned?”

Whatever was manipulating or controlling her, this was still Snow. Only Snow knew Talia well enough to cut her so keenly. “I had no choice.”

“Another lie.” Snow sighed and shook her head. Her weapon never left the prince’s throat. “There are always choices, my dear Talia. Nobody forced you to flee, to turn your back on your throne. You surrendered your birthright. How many generations did your family rule Arathea?”

“Stop this,” Talia whispered.

“They murdered your family and stole your throne, but to hear the stories of Sleeping Beauty, the man who raped you was a prince and hero. They raise your children on those same lies. And you… what lies help you to live with your choices, Talia? That your sons are better off without you? That your presence would only bring pain and chaos to Arathea? I could help you, Talia.”

Talia lowered her knife. “Go ahead and try.”

“Oh, stop it. We both know you love me too much to kill me.”

“I do love her,” Talia admitted. She swallowed, trying to push down the knot in her throat. “And I know her well enough to know what she would want.”

Talia slid forward, her front foot snapping into a kick that struck the outside of Snow’s wrist. The mirrored blade flew into the wall and shattered. “Jakob, run!”

Snow gestured, and the fragments of her blade floated from the floor. Talia dropped flat, and broken glass shot over her head. She rolled and kicked the bench out from beneath Snow, who yelped as she fell.

Jakob was young and unsteady, but he ran to the door and stretched to grab the handle. The door wouldn’t move. Snow’s magic kept it stuck tight.

Talia bounced to her feet. She flipped her knife to throw, and then Frederic crashed into her from the side. The candlemaker was middle-aged and overweight, but he fought like a mother griffon protecting her nest. He wrapped his arms around Talia and slammed her against the wall. Candles tumbled from the shelves.

Talia stomped her heel onto the arch of his foot, then brought both legs up and kicked off from the wall.

“Aunt Tala!”

Sunlight gleamed from three more spinning shards, floating in front of Snow. Talia wrenched Frederic around as Snow launched the shards through the air. They buried themselves in Frederic’s back, earning a startled grunt. He staggered, one foot dislodging the grate from the fire pit. His foot sank into the coals, and he howled.

Broken glass clinked onto the floor as Snow emptied her sack. She clapped her hands, and the glass rose into the air, spinning around her like a glittering whirlwind. “I’ll shred you both to ribbons before I let you leave this room. Please don’t make me kill you, Talia.”

There was a hint of genuine pain in Snow’s words, but not enough to suggest she wouldn’t do exactly what she threatened. A single cut, and Talia would be as much a slave as Frederic. Talia stepped to the right and threw her knife.

Snow’s wall of glass knocked the blade aside, but Talia was already moving. She grabbed the grate from the floor with both hands. The muscles in her back strained to toss the iron grate through the window. Talia followed an instant later, her arms held tight to her chest to keep from slashing herself open on the broken glass.

Talia twisted in the cold air, but she was falling too fast to completely control her landing. Tiled rooftop rushed toward her. She hit hard, her hip and shoulder slamming into the roof of the kitchen. She was too far away to catch the chimney, so she grabbed for the gutters, but they were frozen over. As she slid from the roof, she glimpsed people shouting and pointing from the courtyard below, and then she was falling again.

Daniellepaced a circle around trit-tibar. “I know my husband, Tritt. This wasn’t him.”

“I agree,” said Trittibar. The former ambassador from Fairytown wore his usual cacophony of clothes, including a loose shirt that fountained rainbow ribbons for sleeves, knee-high trousers, and sandals the color of spring buds. He had braided tiny gold bells into his white beard for good measure.

Until recently, Trittibar had lived in a mouse-sized hollow in the southern wall of the palace. After his exile from Fairytown, he had been cut off from the fairy hill, the source of his magic. The loss of his magic trapped him in human form. Snow had been able to rescue some of his belongings, but she hadn’t been able to change their size.

Danielle looked past Trittibar, to where his entire library sat on a shelf no wider than a saucer. The large glass lens and tweezers he used to read the books hung from a peg beside the shelf.

“I’ve been friends with Armand since he was a child,” said Trittibar. “I’ve seen him at his best, and at his worst. Never have I known him to act the way he has today.”

“Maybe Father Isaac was right. Maybe this is just grief.”

Trittibar’s beard jingled as he cocked his head. “If you believed that, you wouldn’t be wearing your sword.”

Danielle touched the hilt with one hand. She had retrieved it after dinner. “We need Snow.” She hesitated. With her mirror destroyed, how much magic had Snow lost?

“If it’s magic, Father Isaac will find the source.” Trittibar combed his beard with his fingers. “Where is the prince now?”

“In his study. He wanted to be alone. I asked Aimee to let me know if he leaves.”

Someone rapped at Trittibar’s door. He jumped to his feet. “Still not used to having a real door,” he muttered. Outside stood a single guard.

“What is it, Stephan?” asked Danielle.

He gave a quick bow. “Talia asked that I find you, Your Highness. She said to meet her at the northeast tower. Snow was taking Prince Jakob there.”

“Why would Snow…?” If Stephan had known anything more, he would have said so. She saw Trittibar grab a slender rapier from the wall. Her own sword bounced against her hip as she ran past Stephan into the cold night air.

A small crowd had gathered in the corner of the courtyard. Danielle’s heart thudded in her chest, and she ran faster, jumping over the low stone wall around the garden.

“Move aside!” Her shouts cleared a path for herself and Trittibar. Two guards were holding Talia near the base of the tower. Her nose was bleeding, and she appeared dazed. Danielle spun, searching the crowd. “What happened here?”

Talia pointed toward a broken window in the tower. “Snow took the prince.” Her words were terse. She tried to wrench free. “I couldn’t get to him. She attacked me. The guards have already gone to check the room, but they didn’t find anyone except Frederic. They’re taking him to be checked by Father Isaac. I don’t know where Snow took Jakob.”

“Let her go,” Danielle commanded. The guards jumped back. Talia swayed, but kept her balance. “Get Tymalous.”