Jim Hines - The Snow Queen's shadow

“Less than a day’s ride.” Gerta sounded distant. Her obvious fear jabbed Danielle’s heart. If they continued upon this path, Gerta would die.

No… Noita had foreseen their arrival, but she hadn’t seen Talia. She hadn’t predicted this. That future had already been changed. So could Gerta’s.

“What do we do about her?” Talia asked, waving her blade at Noita.

“Leave her.” Danielle pushed open the door. She called out with her mind, summoning their horses to the front of the cabin. She called to the birds as well, to carry a message to King Laurence.

Talia hadn’t moved. “There’s kindness, and there’s stupidity. She meant to kill us all. She helped Rose to poison Snow. She-”

“She failed,” Danielle said. “And she’s seen what will happen to her if we don’t stop Snow.” She gestured to Noita, who remained slumped on the bench. “She needs us to succeed.”

“Is that how you mean to rule Lorindar?” Talia asked. “Oh, sure, she tried to assassinate the queen, but that’s all right so long as she doesn’t do it again.”

“Which is more important, punishing her for what she tried to do, or saving Jakob and Snow?” And Gerta, if they could.

Danielle stomped through the cabin without waiting for an answer.

Talia could feel the pounding of her horse’s blood, fear making it pulse faster than usual. Even a day after leaving Noita’s cabin, with Danielle doing her best to calm the beast and allow Talia to ride, its eyes were wide, and it twitched and shook its head as if wanting to toss her free. Talia had switched horses twice, simply to make sure they didn’t exhaust themselves through terror.

“I could wear the cape for a time,” Gerta said, riding alongside.

Talia grabbed the front of the cape, instinctively pulling it tighter. “I’m all right.”

“Liar. I saw you scowling at Danielle when we left. The cape makes you tense. You’re always hunting.”

“Better the hunter than the prey,” Talia said. “Danielle was right. Noita’s no threat anymore.” Though it wouldn’t have taken much time at all to snap the witch’s neck and fling her broken body to the ground.

“Will the cape shield us if you take it off?” Gerta asked. “Tuck it away in your pack until we reach Kanustius.”

Talia tried to keep her annoyance in check. Did Gerta really think she hadn’t thought of that? “The cape has no life of its own.”

“So let me take a turn.” Gerta tossed her hair back, exaggerating the movement. “It doesn’t really match your complexion anyway.”

Talia laughed. “All of your magic combined with the wolf’s temper? That’s a bad idea if ever I’ve heard one.”

“You’re right, of course. Far better to let it continue fanning your temper until you lash out and kill one of us.” Gerta cocked her head. “Though you’re rather sexy when you smolder. It’s the eyes.”

Talia flushed. “Stop that.”

“Make me.” Gerta’s brows wagged, but then she sighed and looked away. “I’m sorry. I only thought, since the cape hid you from Noita’s visions… maybe if I were wearing it, that would explain why I saw nothing of my own future.”

Her matter-of-fact tone made Talia flinch. “Noita couldn’t see me, but she saw the rest of us. The cape might hide you, but from what Noita said, you still should have seen something.”

“So now you take Noita’s word?” Gerta snapped. “When did you become so trusting?”

“Gerta-”

“Or is it just me you don’t trust?”

Talia stared heavenward. “Can you blame me? You showed up in the most secure room of the palace-”

“Naked,” Gerta added, her anger vanishing as quickly as it had come.

“Yes, naked.” Talia scowled. “You were conjured by Snow White, who then kidnapped the prince and set off to conquer a nation. We don’t know how you were made, or to what end. Would you trust you?”

“I think so,” Gerta said slowly. “I have a very trustworthy face.”

Gerta’s expression was so serious Talia couldn’t help but laugh again. She nudged her horse sideways, grabbed a handful of snow from a low-hanging pine branch, and flung it at Gerta. Gerta ducked, grinning.

Unbidden, Talia found herself thinking back to those first weeks in Lorindar, and her growing awkwardness and confusion around Snow White. Talia had been young, lost, and furious with the world, but when Snow smiled at her, all of that had melted away.

“What do you think will happen to me if Snow dies?” Gerta asked softly.

Talia’s shoulders tightened. “She’s not going to-”

“You don’t know that.” Gerta nudged her horse ahead, squeezing through a narrow spot on the path where the trees crowded together. “We’re connected. Does that mean whatever happens to her will happen to me as well? Or can I survive alone, independent of my sister?”

“I’ve never understood magic,” Talia said, troubled by the direction of Gerta’s thoughts. How far would she go to protect herself? “What do you know of King Laurence?”

Gerta gave her an amused look, as if she knew exactly what Talia was doing. But she played along with the change of topic. “He was young when we met him. Cute, but a little too skinny for Snow’s taste. He grew up east of the mountains. The politics weren’t quite as nasty in eastern Allesandria, away from the capital. He’s a skilled wizard. Not as powerful as Snow, but trained since the time he could walk, like all nobles.”

“I hate magic,” Talia muttered.

Gerta laughed. “Says the woman blessed by fairies, wearing an enchanted cloak while riding horses charmed by her friend.”

Talia grabbed another handful of snow.

“Allesandria was founded by magic,” Gerta continued, smiling. “It’s in our blood. People from throughout the world come here to study spellcasting.”

“Talia!” Danielle had crested the hill. She was staring at a cloud of smoke in the distance, black against the gray sky.

Talia squeezed her knees, urging her horse forward. When she reached the top of the hill, she swore.

Kanustius, capital city of Allesandria, was on fire.

The flames spread in a perfect circle around the city, burning as tall as the palace walls back home. The flames were purple at the base, turning blue higher up. Violet sparks popped and flew from the ground.

“It’s all right,” Gerta said. “It’s supposed to do that.”

Danielle stared. “They set the city on fire on purpose?”

“Not the city. Only the wall.” Gerta pointed to the flames. “When we get closer, you should be able to make out the fence within the flames.”

“A fence?” Talia squinted. “Why?”

“Stone walls can be scaled,” Gerta said cheerfully. “It’s much harder to climb a wall that’s on fire.”

“It wouldn’t do much against cannons or catapults,” Talia said.

“Kanustius has other defenses.” Gerta gestured. “Two fences of flame circle the city. Each fencepost generates its own flame, adding to the wall. The Stormcrows can also manipulate the individual flames, sending them out like weapons to defend the city. In wartime, the entire outer ring can be used to repel attackers while the inner ring protects the people. Cannons and black powder don’t last long here. Nor catapults, for that matter.”

“Stormcrows?” asked Danielle.

“The magical branch of the king’s army,” said Talia. “Nasty fighters, but they rely too much on their spells.”

“How do you know that?” Danielle shook her head and held up a hand. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

“So what triggered the defenses?” asked Talia. There was no sign of any army. What she could see of the clearing around the city appeared calm. Judging from the size of the smoke cloud, the gates had been burning for at least an hour.