Jim Hines - The Snow Queen's shadow

Danielle could see glimpses of Snow in Gerta. The way she whispered absently to herself as she traced runes onto Armand’s arm, the set of her lips when she concentrated, her obvious excitement over the workings of magic.

How many years had Snow spent imagining a sister, sculpting every last detail with her mind, trying to ease her loneliness? Gerta wasn’t quite as attractive as Snow, which made sense. Snow’s vanity wouldn’t allow her to imagine a more beautiful sister. Gerta was taller, with a more prominent nose. Her teeth were perfect, but slightly too large. Her eyes were a muddy brown, reminding Danielle not of Snow herself, but of Snow’s mother.

If they were unable to stop whatever demon had taken Snow, Gerta might be the closest Danielle ever got to seeing her friend again.

Gerta’s scream filled the chapel. Talia lunged to grab her arm, but Gerta shook her away.

“Let her work,” Isaac shouted. Danielle had never heard him yell before.

“What’s happening?” Danielle asked.

“Give me the pearl.” Gerta reached blindly toward the silver communion cup that held a single perfect pearl. Talia shoved it into her hand. Gerta began to chant in another tongue. Sweat beaded her nose and forehead. Danielle could hear the pearl rolling about, though Gerta held the cup perfectly still.

“The demon,” said Isaac. “As Gerta’s magic touches the mirror, she also touches Snow.” He took his crucifix in both hands and began to pray. Gray smoke billowed from the thuribles, the incense strong enough to make Danielle’s eyes water. His voice grew deeper, filling the church. “Depart. You are not welcome here.”

“She sees me.” Gerta was trembling.

Danielle stepped closer, putting her hand over Gerta’s on the cup. “Focus on the mirror. You can do this.”

Gerta grabbed a small jar of oil and poured a circle onto Armand’s chest around the freshest of the bruises. The skin turned pink where the oil touched. Gerta pressed her fingers into the center of the ring.

Danielle could see a tiny lump beneath Armand’s skin. “Is that it?”

Gerta took the pearl from the cup and pressed it onto the lump with her thumb. “She’s trying to break it. I can encase one sliver, but if it fragments further…”

Armand’s eyes opened. Talia jumped forward, catching his arm and pinning it to the altar. Danielle did the same on the other side, using her full weight to keep him from reaching Gerta. He was so strong, his fingers pinching and ripping the skin of Danielle’s arm as he struggled to break free. He kicked at Isaac, who stepped out of the way without interrupting his chant.

Isaac gestured with one hand, and Armand fell back, though he remained awake.

“I’ve almost got it,” said Gerta.

Armand’s eyes narrowed, and his lips drew together in a smile.

“Be careful,” Danielle warned.

The cracking sound was so quiet Danielle almost missed it. Gerta screamed and yanked her thumb back. The pearl had split in two, and blood beaded from the center of Armand’s chest.

Isaac caught Gerta’s wrist and reached out with his other hand. “Knife!”

Talia slapped a dagger into his hand. Isaac pressed the blade to Gerta’s thumb and cut a shallow line. Gerta shrieked again, but didn’t fight. Instead, she grabbed the dagger and pushed it deeper.

“The cup,” Gerta said.

Danielle grabbed the cup from the altar. Blood dripped from Gerta’s thumb, along with a sparkle of glass no larger than a grain of sand. “Is that-?”

“She broke the splinter in two.” Gerta stuck her bloody thumb into her mouth. Her whole body was shaking. “She tried to shove the other piece into me.”

As the pounding of Danielle’s heart slowly calmed, she noticed another sound: Armand, laughing softly to himself.

“I could feel her reaching for me,” said Gerta. “Like her magic was a weed, digging its roots into my veins. If Father Isaac hadn’t cut it free, she would have taken me as well. I’m sorry.” Gerta wiped her face as she turned to Talia. Isaac grabbed a cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders. “She was surprised. She wasn’t expecting anyone to try to remove one of the slivers, but she’ll be prepared now. She’ll be watching for me to try again.”

Isaac set the cup and splinter onto a small shelf, whispering a quick blessing over them both before returning to the prince. He placed a hand on Armand’s chest and began to pray.

“Not even our mother could do such magic,” Gerta whispered. “Snow ripped through Isaac’s protections, threw off my spells, all through such a tiny fragment of glass.”

“You’re still here,” said Talia. “That’s what matters. We’ll find another way.”

Armand laughed again. A thin line of blood dripped down his stomach, staining the waist of his trousers. “Do you tell such lies to comfort yourself, Talia? Or are you foolish enough to believe them?”

Danielle stepped away from the altar. Armand hadn’t moved since that one aborted attempt to reach Gerta. “Father, will your magic hold him?”

“His body,” Isaac said, stepping away from the altar. “For now.”

Danielle gestured for the others to follow as she strode to the far side of the chapel. In a low voice, she said, “Thank you for trying, Gerta.”

Gerta managed a crooked smile. “So now do you trust me?”

Gerta might be a stranger, but she spoke with weary familiarity, so much like Snow that Danielle couldn’t help but smile in return. “It’s a start.”

“Will Snow come after you?” Talia asked.

“I don’t think so.” Gerta checked her thumb. Blood welled from the cut, and she wrapped it in the hem of her cloak. “She hid me from herself, ripping the memory from her own mind to protect me from the demon. She knows someone tried to free Armand, but she doesn’t know who I am.”

Danielle turned away. What had Snow intended for Gerta? Gerta wasn’t strong enough to fight a demon. Was she a merely a way for Snow to save some part of herself?

“What now?” asked Talia. “Half the palace is out hunting for Snow and the prince, but we don’t know where she intends to go next.”

“She’s at sea,” said Gerta.

They turned to face her.

“As Snow tried to take me, I… I think I glimpsed her as well. Her whereabouts and her thoughts. Like a nightmare, trying to swallow me into darkness, but I saw water, and I felt the shift of the deck.”

“She’s going home,” whispered Talia. “To Allesandria.”

“How do you know?” asked Gerta.

“She spoke of the pain of leaving your home. Of surrendering your birthright.” Talia stared at the floor. “‘Nobody forced you to flee, to turn your back on your throne.’ She was talking about me, but.. .”

“But herself as well,” Danielle finished. “If the winds are favorable, we might be able to intercept her before she reaches Allesandria.”

“Do you know how to stop a demon?” asked Gerta. “She took your son and swept through the palace as though neither guards nor wards even existed.”

“Accounts of such creatures are rare,” Isaac said, hooking his thumbs through his necklace as he paced. “The church teaches that demons are beasts of Hell. By their nature, they spread pain and chaos, and they do not stop until they are destroyed or returned to Hell.”

“There are theories that Hell is simply another world,” Gerta said. “Albeit one less hospitable to beings such as ourselves.”

“Perhaps.” Isaac turned to Danielle. “Like the devils of old, this one works through lies and deception. It seeks not to control Snow, but to corrupt her.”

“Snow’s mother bound it into the mirror,” said Danielle. “If we could do the same-”

“Once trapped, we could find a way to destroy it!” Gerta nodded eagerly. “There was a witch named Noita. She lived by the river near the winter palace in Kanustius. My mother went to her on occasion, when she required assistance with certain rituals.”