Jim Hines - The Snow Queen's shadow

It didn’t interfere with her control. The crew worked in silence, struggling merely to maintain their position. Her men responded to her will without the crass disruption of shouted commands. It was both peaceful and efficient, and no mortal magic could tear her crew away from the beauty of their new queen. They were loyal unto death.

All save Jakob. Snow frowned as she glanced at her shoulder, where the prince shivered and fluffed his feathers for warmth. The boy knew no magic. His resistance came not from spellcraft, but from his very nature. Not for the first time, she considered killing him and taking what power she could, as her mother had once tried to do with her.

She shrugged and turned away. She would unravel Jakob’s mystery soon enough. Through the fog, she could see the shadows of two ships moving closer. Cannons thundered, warning her to hold her position.

Snow glanced at the Deathcrow. “Master Perin, if you would?”

Perin spread his arms. His skin rippled and flexed as black feathers sprouted from his body. His clothes tore away, and he jumped onto the rail, talons of black steel digging into the wood. Lightning crackled from his wings. He launched himself into the air, a crow painted of ink and shadow, larger than the grandest eagle.

The approaching ships would likely kill him, but he would distract them long enough for Snow’s magic to work. She reached into the pouch at her side, pulling out a mirrored triangle of glass no bigger than her palm. She had spent perhaps a third of the mirror’s fragments to get this far, but there should be more than enough glass to reach King Laurence and deal with whatever opposition he offered. She held one corner of the shard between her finger and thumb and rapped it against the rail.

The glass broke, spilling fragments into the water below. Snow brushed her hands together, dusting the last of the shattered glass into the water. Blood welled from tiny cuts on her palms, but her skin healed even as she whispered a new spell.

As screams broke out from the other ships, courtesy of Perin, Snow’s fragments rose from the water on wings of ice. This swarm was larger than the others Snow had created. With a wave of her hand, Snow sent her creations forth. They skimmed the waves toward the approaching ships.

Halfway there, the fog coalesced around her wasps. One by one, the magic holding them together began to unravel.

“Not bad,” Snow said. Behind her, men raced to load the cannons. She concentrated, and the rest of her wasps plunged into the water where the fog couldn’t reach them. They emerged again beyond the fog, and the shouts grew louder.

Most of her wasps were destroyed. She felt each death as fire magic melted her creatures, or gusts of wind smashed them to the deck, but it took only one, its wings shriveled away but its body intact, to crawl up a man’s boot and lodge its stinger in his leg. Only one crewman to truly see the world’s ugliness, and to turn against his fellows.

She pulled a second shard from her pouch and released another swarm. This time there was less resistance. She sensed Perin’s sudden agony as he fell, wrapped in magical fire, but he had served his purpose. By the time the Snow Queen drifted into cannon range, there was little need for guns. She fired a broadside anyway, and holes exploded in the hull of the nearest ship.

Answering fire came not from the two Allesandrian ships, but from a third vessel sailing from the harbor. She approached quickly, wind filling her sails as she leaped forward to meet the Snow Queen. Even through the fading fog, Snow recognized the Phillipa.

The Phillipa approached at an angle, all of her port guns firing. The Snow Queen trembled as cannonballs tore through the hull. Captain Hephyra had never been one to turn from a fight.

The Snow Queen turned to port, but she was too slow to catch the Phillipa. Snow pulled the last of her wasps from the Allesandrian ships, sending them toward the Phillipa. They swarmed over Hephyra, who stood unflinching at the wheel. Hephyra’s cudgel smashed several from the air, but others landed on her bare face and arms.

Snow blinked in surprise. The stingers wouldn’t penetrate Hephyra’s skin. She watched through the splinters of glass as Hephyra crushed another wasp with her bare hand.

Her wasps couldn’t take Hephyra, and Snow wasn’t entirely certain how well they would be able to turn the Phillipa ’s crew against its captain. The dryad’s fairy allure was almost as potent as Snow’s own magic.

“Very well.” Snow’s wasps had taken the weather mages on the Allesandrian ships. In response to Snow’s thoughts, the wind picked up, turning the Snow Queen about and launching her after the Phillipa .

As they closed, Snow climbed onto the rail and stepped out, summoning a cushion of air to lower her to the water. The sea froze beneath her feet. Waves broke against the ice, splashing her boots and legs as she walked. She smiled, casting yet another spell. The water hardened, forming armor of gleaming ice that encased her legs and moved higher.

So much power at her command. A week ago, simply fighting the fog sent by the Allesandrian weather wizard would have left her head throbbing from pain. Today, there were no limits to what she might do.

She allowed the Snow Queen to veer away. Shouts broke out on the Phillipa as someone spied her in the water.

Ice spread to cover her face. She concentrated, keeping the front of her helm as pure and clear as possible. Only the slightest ripple distorted her vision. Her heart slowed, each beat pounding harder, as if her blood itself were turning to ice. She turned her head, testing the armor. Ice scraped against ice, cracking and refreezing to allow her to move.

A crossbow bolt splashed into the water beside her. A second struck her stomach, gouging a chip from the armor. She brushed a gauntleted hand over the chip, and an instant later no sign of damage remained. A magical attack followed, but her armor deflected that as well.

Her wasps had stung only a few men on the Phillipa, but it was enough. She reached out to adjust the vision of the closest. She peered through his eyes until she spotted two men in Allesandrian uniforms, working to prepare another spell. Her slave killed them both before they knew what was happening.

As the crew reacted to this betrayal, Snow moved on to another crewman, showing him not a maiden of ice striding toward his ship, but a drowning girl. He threw down a line to help her even as one of his companions rushed to stop him.

By the time Snow’s feet touched the main deck, her slave had fallen, but it no longer mattered. He had protected the line long enough for her to board. A sailor rushed her from the right, cutlass raised. The blade bounced from Snow’s forearm. A single punch from her gauntleted fist sent him sprawling into the boats lashed to the deck.

She touched her hip, allowing her fingers to reach through the ice to the pouch at her waist. Most of her mirror shards were locked away on the Snow Queen, but she needed only a few. When she pulled her hand away, a knife of ice and broken glass followed. The blade was long as her forearm and frosted white. The edges were jagged glass, like silver teeth.

Another sailor grabbed her arm and tried to wrest the knife away, but the hilt was bonded to her grip. She clubbed him on the side of the head, then sliced her knife along his forearm, allowing a single sliver of glass to break away.

“Keep back.” Captain Hephyra stood with a wooden cudgel in one hand. To Snow’s eyes, she was all but glowing with rage and magic that flowed through her and the ship both.

“Tell me about the girl.” The ice helm muffled Snow’s words, but Hephyra appeared to understand.

“Funny. I never thought you were interested in girls.”