Jim Hines - The Snow Queen's shadow

“It happened so quickly.” Less than a day to infiltrate the palace, seize the royal family, and destroy their one hope of trapping the demon. “She has an army now.”

“Her power has limits,” said Gerta. “The Stormcrows fought hard, and many of her fragments have been destroyed.” Her voice caught, and her gaze went to the city.

“What is it?” asked Danielle.

“She created me to stop this, but I wasn’t strong enough. I didn’t find the circle in the palace until it was too late. I couldn’t stop her from taking Laurence and Odelia.”

“You got us out of that prison,” Talia said firmly. “We’re alive, and we’re free.”

“For now.” Gerta shook herself. “I’m sorry. You’re right. We should keep moving. We know the demon is vulnerable to fairy magic. The Duchess said her darkling would lead us to Bellum and Veleris. That they could help us to save Jakob and Snow.”

They stopped at a crossroads a short distance ahead. Most of the crowd trudged south, though a smaller number turned north toward the harbor. Talia watched the darkling, which had reverted back to its blackbird shape. It flew straight ahead, toward the mountains.

Talia waited until they had left the other refugees behind to call the darkling. “Where exactly are you taking us?”

The darkling swooped to the ground, landing in the snow without a sound. “To Speas Elan.”

Talia’s teeth grated at its voice. She had never heard a darkling speak before. The words were like steel scraping over bone. The voice was high-pitched, somewhere between male and female.

“How long a journey will this be?” asked Danielle.

“I will carry you.”

Talia raised an eyebrow at the darkling.

“Even if you could carry us all, your touch would destroy us,” Danielle said.

“Only if I wish it.”

Talia snorted. “How comforting.”

The darkling’s body was already shifting, expanding into the form of a large reindeer. As Talia watched, he split apart, until a second reindeer stood beside the first. They appeared… thinner. She could see the shapes of the trees through their bodies.

“They’re identical,” said Gerta. “You can see the thread of darkness connecting them.”

Talia squinted until she spotted the shadow stretching from the back of one reindeer to the horns of the second. What would happen if that line were cut? Would it hurt this creature, or would they simply end up with two smaller darklings?

Nobody moved toward the reindeer. The darkling said nothing, simply waiting.

“It was your idea to call this thing,” Talia muttered to Danielle.

Danielle made a face, but stepped closer, stretching out one hand as carefully as if she were reaching over an open flame. Both reindeer turned to watch her, the heads moving in unison. Her fingers brushed the first on the neck. When nothing happened, she put a hand on the reindeer’s back. With her other hand, she grasped the base of an antler and pulled herself up.

Talia grimaced and followed suit. The reindeer was cool to the touch, but felt as solid as any horse. Her skin tingled at the contact. Gerta climbed up with her, settling herself in front of Talia. The darkling didn’t appear to mind the extra weight.

“So who exactly are these fairy ladies that are supposed to help us?” Talia asked, trying to relax into the rhythm of the darkling’s odd, bouncing gait.

“I’ve never heard of them,” said Gerta. Her back rested ever so lightly against Talia, reminding her of the last time she had ridden with Snow. Snow had leaned against her in just that way.

“That’s good,” said Danielle. “Hopefully, Snow doesn’t know them either.”

Talia glanced to the side of the road, searching the trees. The reindeer made good speed, but it was hardly subtle.

“Few people brave these roads in winter,” Gerta said, as if reading her thoughts. “Officially, most of the mountain passes are closed from first snowfall through the spring thaw.”

“Someone’s been through here,” Talia said, pointing to the road. The earth was frozen hard as rock, but she could make out other tracks in the snow.

“Unofficially, the mountains are home to those who prefer to live outside of the cities and the king’s law. Criminals and others who don’t wish to be found, like Noita.”

“Or Roland,” Talia said, remembering the name of Snow’s first lover.

Gerta nodded. “Or the fairies.”

“What do you think they’ll ask in return for their help?” Talia asked.

Even from here, she could see Danielle tense. “We’ll face that once we find them.”

“I just hope they can help us at all,” said Gerta. “The fairies of Allesandria aren’t what you’re used to in places like Lorindar or Arathea. The strongest of their race were hunted down more than a century ago. The survivors fled.”

“Obviously not all of them.” Talia grabbed the reindeer’s antlers and tugged, trying to slow the creature.

“What’s wrong?” asked Gerta.

Talia twisted to search the woods behind them. “Hoofbeats, but they’ve stopped.”

Danielle turned to look. “You’re sure?”

“Sure enough.” Without her cape, her senses were merely human.

“Snow’s people?” Danielle asked.

“I don’t think so,” said Gerta. “We’re still alive, aren’t we?”

Branches rustled in the woods to the left, and a startled pheasant burst from the bushes. It might have been nothing. Or it might have been one of their pursuers running ahead to warn his friends to prepare an ambush.

“If I were planning to rob a group of unarmed travelers, I’d choose a place where I could surprise them,” said Talia. “Beyond that hilltop, or hidden among the trees where the forest is thicker.”

Danielle was whispering to the air. A short time later, the pheasant returned to land on the road beside her. She bent down, still speaking in that same soft voice. The pheasant shook its feathers, spread its wings, and flew off. It landed in the trees at the crest of the hill and cried out with a rusty, “kor, korr.”

“A shame he can’t tell me how many are waiting,” Danielle said. “Do you think they’ll have archers?”

Talia shook her head. “Not likely in this cold, unless they want their bows to crack. Slings, possibly. Or simple stones.”

“We could go back,” suggested Danielle. “Try to find another way.”

“I’m tired of running. And like you said, we need supplies.” Talia jumped down from the reindeer, jogging ahead toward where the pheasant continued to shout an alarm. She tugged the knife from her belt, as all of the anger and helplessness of the past days surged to the surface. She raised her voice. “Hail the bandits!”

Behind her, she heard Gerta sigh. “Did she just-”

“Yes.” Danielle raised her voice. “Talia, please try to remember that not all of us share your gifts.”

“So stay out of my way.” Talia stopped in the middle of the road to wait. She had already spotted one bandit perched in the trees. The pheasant had landed almost within arm’s reach, and he was trying unsuccessfully to shoo it away.

Others stepped out from hiding. Talia counted seven, including the one in the tree. Add a few more coming up behind, and there could be as many as a dozen. They looked more cold and miserable than dangerous. Most were bundled in jackets and furs, making it all but impossible to tell male from female. The apparent leader brandished a gleaming hunting knife twice the size of Talia’s blade.

“Put that toy away, girl.” A woman, middle-aged from the sound of it.

Talia gave a quick peek over her shoulder, making sure Danielle and Gerta were staying back. They had dismounted, and were standing behind the reindeer. Good thinking.