Jim Hines - The Snow Queen's shadow

He was clearly one of the city’s wizards, but he didn’t look like any wizard Danielle had seen before. For one thing, he was wearing armor. The mail appeared to be made of gold and steel, the individual rings little thicker than wire. The gold links wove a swirling pattern like snakes converging toward his heart. His only weapon was an ebony-handled athame at his hip. He wore a black half-cape and matching trousers tucked into fur-lined boots.

He doffed a metal helm and gave a slight bow of greeting. He was slender and bald, his brown scalp shining in the firelight. Even his eyebrows had been shaved. He studied them each in turn, but kept most of his attention on Gerta. When he spoke, his words were calm, but firm.

“He’s warning us, ever so politely, that we’ll be killed should we attempt to fight or flee,” Talia said, never taking her eyes from the wizard. “His fellow Stormcrows listen from the towers. He wants to know who Gerta is and how she approached so close to the wall.”

“Be careful what you say.” Danielle glanced at the puddle where one of the wasps had fallen. A sliver of glass lay half-buried in the mud. “They may not be the only ones listening.”

Talia continued to translate as Gerta said, “My friends and I need to enter the city.”

“I’m sorry,” said the Stormcrow. “Those things that attacked you, this isn’t the first time we’ve fought them. They possess their victims. At least four Stormcrows have been turned, along with gods know how many civilians. We’re working to track them down, but we can’t risk letting more inside.”

“So you’re saying your magic can’t even show whether or not we’re infected?” Talia asked.

He almost smiled. “I sense no evil in you, but it’s the height of arrogance to assume none are powerful enough to conceal their spells from me. We prefer not to take the risk.”

“So instead you’ll wait for the next swarm to fly over the wall and attack your people?”

This time, his smile broke free. “They’ve tried three times. The flames stretch up as well as out.”

Gerta folded her arms. “Unless things have changed since my last visit, that cape marks you as an officer. You can communicate directly with the king, and he with you?”

“If the need arises, yes.”

“Good.” Gerta kicked mud over the exposed slivers of glass, then stepped past him and plunged her hands into the flame before he could stop her. In a low voice that barely carried over the sound of the fire, she said, “Please let Laurence know that his cousin, Princess Rose Gertrude Curtana, wishes to speak with him.”

The Stormcrows moved with impressive speed. Gerta barely had time to remove her hands from the wall before two more armored Stormcrows stepped through to seize her arms.

Talia dropped into a low stance. One hand went to her sword. The remaining Stormcrow, the officer, raised his hands and spread his fingers in response. Talia’s lips pulled back, and her heart beat faster. She should have no problem taking him out before he could cast a spell, but his companions were another matter.

“Don’t,” Danielle said softly. “It’s not like we can fight our way through this wall.”

“How will you know unless you try?” But Talia forced herself to relax.

The Stormcrow lowered his hands, though he kept a wary eye on Talia. “The king says to bring them in.” To Danielle, he said, “My name is Forssel, Captain of the northern wing of the King’s Stormcrows. These are Colville and Vachel. We’ll be escorting you to the palace.”

Talia relayed the man’s introduction, as well as Danielle’s thanks. The Stormcrows didn’t bother to take their weapons. Given the way Colville and Vachel were eyeing them, Talia didn’t believe for a moment the Stormcrows trusted their guests, which meant they didn’t think weapons would matter. She glanced at the scorched starburst on the ground where blue fire had incinerated Snow’s wasps. They were probably right.

“Take my hand as we pass through the wall,” said Forssel. “Keep your heads low, and let me go first. Otherwise, your bodies will be little more than charcoal when you tumble out the other side. There’s no air, so don’t try to breathe. Colville will remain here to retrieve the remains of those creatures.”

One by one, the Stormcrows led them into the city. Talia was the last to grip Forssel’s hand and approach the blue flames. The heat was almost unbearable, emanating as much from Forssel’s armor as the fire itself. When he neared the wall, fire leaped to meet him, dancing over his helm and through his armor. Sparks followed the gold patterns in his mail, jumping to the ground when they reached the bottom.

Talia had prepared herself for the light and the heat, but not the wind. Her hair rose, and her cape flapped as the air rushed upward past her body. Sparks burst from the edges of the cape as the wolf’s enchantments interacted with the dragon fire. The wall was thicker than she had realized. It was four paces before she emerged on the other side.

She stepped away from the flames, blinking the dryness from her eyes. The others were waiting, and appeared unharmed.

“Welcome to Kanustius,” said Forssel, backing to what was considered a polite distance in Allesandria. Still close enough for Talia to reach him with her sword, if necessary.

The streets were paved in red-tinged stone, cutting tight paths between low, blocky buildings. Smoke rose from most of the chimneys. Painted knot work, mostly in blues and whites, trimmed the doors and the narrow windows.

The air was far too quiet for a city of this size. Talia could see people watching through cracked shutters. Those on the streets moved quickly, looking straight ahead.

“This is how things felt when my mother ruled,” Gerta said softly. She stared like a newcomer, her forehead wrinkled as she took in her surroundings. “Smothered by fear. No one was allowed in the streets after dark without a permit.”

“The curfew was overturned years ago,” said Forssel. “The blue wall serves as a warning to the people as well as a defense. They keep to their homes, trusting the king to deal with the threat. But the wall has been raised for several days now, and tensions are growing.”

“How did it begin?” asked Danielle.

“Every city is under heightened alert,” he said. “We’ve been hunting Snow White ever since the murder of Lord Ollear.”

“Yet she remains free,” Talia observed.

Forssel didn’t appear to take offense. “Allesandria is well protected against invasion. Whole armies have entered our woods, never to emerge. Lyskar once attempted to expand their borders. The king of Allesandria turned the very mountains against them. But Snow knows the land, and she travels alone.

“Alone?” Danielle repeated sharply.

“She’s scattered her followers. They move singly, or in small groups.” His face tightened. “Yesterday, a seer from the university dreamed a silver cloud raced inland from the harbor. King Lawrence sent a full unit of Stormcrows to intercept the cloud.”

“What happened?” asked Gerta.

“It wasn’t a cloud, but a swarm. Hundreds of those damned things racing toward the capital. The Stormcrows’ spells were reflected back upon those who cast them. Six were killed instantly by their own magic.”

“The mirrors.”

His face tightened. “Exactly. Much like the protective charms Queen Curtana would wear to guard herself from attack.” He glanced at the other Stormcrows. “The rest were stung. We’ve been forced to kill three of our own people today.” He touched his hand to his heart and whispered three names, presumably those of the fallen Stormcrows.

“I’m sorry.” Gerta repeated the names. “The palace is north of here. Where are you taking us?”