Jim Hines - The Snow Queen's shadow

“Talia.” Danielle caught her arm. “ Talia.”

Noita’s fingers dug at Talia’s hands. She was wheezing, trying to force air past the slowly constricting grip on her neck.

Talia took a deep, shuddering breath, and released her. The witch fell, gasping and holding her neck. “The spirit in this cape may not be as powerful as this demon, but there’s a very important difference. The wolf is here, right now. And it doesn’t like you very much.”

“I know Rose cast her spell at the winter palace.” Noita’s face was pale. “I merely helped with the preparations. I never saw the summoning circle, but a circle that powerful would leave traces. It might still be there. A hidden room, maybe? Rose had many secrets, but your witch might be able to find it.”

Gerta broke a rosebud from a vine and twirled it in her fingers. “I have a better idea. If your magic can show you visions of other times and places, perhaps it can show us what we need to see.”

“Rose warded her secrets against scrying,” Noita protested.

“But Rose is dead,” said Gerta. “With my magic added to yours, maybe we can finally get ahead of this demon.”

In another lifetime, Snow might have found this fun.

The stolen sleigh all but flew up the pass, steel runners scraping over ice and stone alike. Prince Jakob clung to her side. Frightened as he was of her, the prospect of skidding from the trail and tumbling down the mountain terrified him even more.

Snow mentally lashed her ghost mounts to greater speed. She had killed the four reindeer at the height of their fear, fear which they carried into death. The reindeer’s spirits would never tire, but their fear gave them speed.

“They’ll kill us both, you know.” Snow used magic to make her words carry over the sound of the sleigh. “If Lord Duino could, he’d rip us from the pass or pull the snow from above to crush us. His fear is such that he would happily murder an innocent child if it meant he would be safe from me.”

Allesandria’s army was second to none in its magical capabilities, but an army was little use against a small, mobile enemy. Snow had once described her homeland as a relatively small nation. While Allesandria was many times the size of Lorindar, much of that land was sparsely populated, particularly the mountain ranges… meaning there were so many places to hide.

How many hunters had Laurence deployed after Snow fought her way through his forces at the harbor? She could feel them searching for her, some scrying through crystals or pools, others watching through the eyes of the birds and other animals. But they had an entire nation to search, and mirror magic was particularly good for deflecting attention.

“What do you say, Jakob? Should we let Duino’s hunters catch us? Let them kill us both with their magic? Or do we destroy them before they can strike?”

“I want to go home.”

Snow made a tsk sound. “You think home is any safer? This was my home, Jakob. There are those in Lorindar who have plotted your death since the day you were born. Just as the Nobles’ Circle did with me. Some will act from greed, others from simple fear of what you are. You can allow them to threaten you and drive you into hiding, but you’ll never truly escape. Or you can act to protect yourself.”

Far below, smoke rose from the town built into the mountainside at the edge of the lake. They had ridden for much of the morning, but it was a slow climb. The homes were built close together, reminding her of animals crammed into a pen. Their bright colors were a futile attempt to counter the whiteness of winter.

The ground thrummed like the string of a lute. Small rocks and chunks of ice tumbled down, clattering against the sleigh. One struck Snow’s shoulder. Another hit her arm hard enough to bruise even through her cape. Duino was getting closer.

“Choose, Princeling. Shall we fight those who would kill us? If we do nothing, I promise we will both be dead before nightfall. Are you ready to die, Jakob?”

Jakob shook his head.

“Then you choose to fight. Very good.” The ghosts of the reindeer leaped forward, straining against their invisible bonds.

Duino was old, even for Allesandria. Some said he had lived more than a century, and had spent most of that time studying magic. Though his body was frail as ash, he could project his spirit forth with all the strength and vigor of a young man. In such form, he was immune to the sting of Snow’s wasps, as were those who marched beside him. Snow had counted more than twenty astral warriors running after her as swiftly as any horse.

She could circle back to the town to attack his physical form, but he would have prepared for that. She had no way of knowing which house hid his body, and by the time she found him and broke through his defenses, they would be upon her.

She glanced upward. From the strength of the tremors, Duino had recruited help, perhaps even the king’s own Stormcrows. She toyed with the idea of turning those tremors against them, trying to pull down the mountainside to bury Duino and the rest of the town. But it would take time, and Duino was too close.

The sleigh slowed again. Snow put a hand on Jakob’s shoulder. He was trembling like a frightened kitten. “Do you know what a soul jar is?”

He shook his head.

“I learned of them from a mermaid.” Yet another betrayal, one that had almost cost Snow her life. She searched the sleigh for anything that would work as a jar, but found nothing.

She climbed out of the sleigh and closed her right eye. The sliver of glass embedded within the left enhanced her vision as she watched for Duino’s approach.

The spell at the heart of a soul jar was the mystical equivalent of spider silk, stretching out to entangle rogue spirits and draw them into a cocoon of magical energy. The physical jar merely anchored the web. Lacking such a jar, Snow would have to use an alternate anchor.

She could see them now, their spiritual forms like animals spun from fog. Animal spirits were an eastern innovation, one Duino had apparently mastered. Duino himself was a stallion charging up the trail. An eagle flew above. Snow spied a wolf, a hunting dog, a pair of apes, even one of the great maned cats from farther south.

Snow opened her mouth, and a thread of magic snapped out from her throat to intercept Duino. He reared as the thread lashed round his neck. His companions drew back in alarm. A snake tried to bite the thread, but merely entangled itself in the trap.

Duino’s struggles tickled deep inside Snow’s chest, where she had anchored her spell. It felt as though she had swallowed something alive, something which struggled to crawl free. But Duino was spirit, whereas Snow was flesh. Bracing herself, she pulled the thread back.

Duino changed tactics. Magic rippled along their connection, trying to tear Snow’s own spirit free of her body. It might have worked, had there been only a single spirit within her.

More threads flew from her mouth, trapping the other souls as they tried to free their leader. They sent what spells they could, and Snow used the mirror’s power to reflect them back. Through the magic of the soul jar, she shared their pain as the spells crackled through those who had cast them.

The snake was close enough now for Snow to see the spirit’s true form within, that of a young woman missing her left hand. Snow opened her mouth wider, and the spirit disappeared down her throat.

It was a curious sensation, like swallowing air on the coldest day of winter. She felt… bloated.

Duino was next. He tried one final spell, seeking to split his spirit like a lizard shedding its tail, but Snow’s magic was too strong.

She could hear their screams, taste their thoughts.