Jim Hines - The Snow Queen's shadow

“Are you hoping to convince me of your loyalty?” Snow asked. “Your honesty? Yet you also took an oath to serve King Laurence, and now you’ve come to me. Or did you accept my invitation in order to discover my location and destroy me? You think I’ve not noticed your failed telepathic attempts to summon help?”

He attacked without warning, but the others were quick to follow. There was little artistry to their magic. A simple spell of flame, a curse to destroy her senses, another to make her sleep… one woman did attempt a rather unusual form of teleportation, trying to transport parts of Snow’s body to different locations. Snow wondered briefly where she had learned that particular trick.

Their spells never touched her. Snow stood upon the largest magical mirror ever created. It absorbed their attacks, reflecting them back not at the casters, who would presumably know how to counter their own spells, but at their companions.

Within seconds, three more nobles had fallen. Snow’s guardians, men twisted into creatures of fur and fang and claw, closed in to deal with the remaining two.

“Take the bodies to the edge of the palace. Spill their blood in an unbroken ring.” Noble blood, full of magic. “I will not be alone, my dear Stevan.”

A flicker of magic tugged her attention to the child. Jakob had finally managed to conjure an image within his makeshift mirror. He sat with his back to the carnage, his shoulders shaking. Snow walked over and tugged the bloody ice from his hands.

When she saw what he had done, she nearly dropped it. Within the ice was Snow herself. Not as she was, but as she had been: her face unscarred, her smile one of genuine merriment. The reflection wore a green jacket, and was sucking frosting from her fingers. This was a memory, from Jakob’s birthday celebration earlier this year. “I’d expected you to summon up your mother or father.”

“Aunt Snow will fight you.”

“She tried.” A flick of her finger should have banished the image. Instead, the reflection turned to stick out her tongue.

Snow yanked the image from the small mirror and transferred it into the ice at her feet. For a moment, that tug echoed within her, giving her the key. Jakob might have instinctively summoned a comforting memory from the mirror, but even with his fairy blood, he couldn’t have given that memory life.

“Much better.” The reflection stretched, then turned to look at Jakob. “He’s smarter than you realize.”

“He’s a child. He might even appreciate being a part of my mirror. Instead of a too-brief mortal life, he’ll live on for all eternity.”

“Eternity?” Snow grinned from the ice. “I’ll wager a hundred crowns you don’t survive the month.”

By now, the last of the nobles had been dragged away, leaving only the sheen of blood to mark their fall. “I know what you’ve done. Cutting out a part of your soul, blotting her from your memories to hide her from me. Using her to protect a fragment of your own soul. Clever, but I’ll have Gerta back soon enough.”

“Just like you had her in Kanustius?”

“That was you.” She thought back to Kanustius, to her confusion. Her weakness. She had intended to order Danielle and Talia killed, and Gerta placed into magical hibernation until she could be studied. “Gerta’s magic drew you out, gave you strength enough to save your friends’ life. You realize those same friends mean to kill us?”

“They mean to kill you.” The reflection folded her arms. “But I hate waiting.”

The ice cracked beneath Snow’s feet. She jumped back with a curse. Magic pulled at her legs, trying to drag her through, but it was human magic, weak and easily turned away. A wave of her hand sealed the surface of the ice, trapping the reflection within. The next spell it cast was turned back, and the reflection screamed in pain.

Jakob had done her a favor. Whatever remained of Snow’s humanity was now trapped and powerless within the ice. Better to keep it there, where it couldn’t influence her the way it had back in Kanustius.

Satisfied, she turned to study the boy again. Perhaps there was a way to hurry Gerta’s destruction along. “It’s time to find your mother, child.”

Jakob deliberately avoided looking at the puddles and smears of blood on the far side of the room.

“She’s in danger, but fairy magic hides her from me. You have the power to find her. She needs your help.”

“No, she doesn’t.” Jakob spoke so meekly she barely heard, but there was no uncertainty in his words.

The reflection gave a weary chuckle. “Told you he was smart.”

“It doesn’t matter.” To Jakob, she said, “She’s in danger nonetheless. This might be your last chance to see her alive.”

She turned her attention to the ice, showing him the chaos spreading through Allesandria. A hurricane battered one city, courtesy of a possessed weather mage. Another was a blackened ruin, with flickers of green flame still dancing over the wreckage left by her rogue Stormcrows. Hundreds of her servants had been killed, but more than a thousand fought on. With Laurence fallen under her control-

“First Allesandria, then the world?” her reflection asked, sounding bored. “How unoriginal.”

She scowled. “Find me one ruler worthy of their throne. Show me a single nation not founded on lies and bloodshed.” She turned toward Jakob. He was watching the destruction as well, his eyes round. “Your mother is trapped in this madness, Jakob. I could save her. Find her for me, and I give you my word she will be spared this.”

“The word of a demon,” Snow repeated from the ice. “I’ve got a word for you. How about-”

A wave of her hand silenced the reflection. She approached Jakob. “You are clever. Clever enough to know what I’ll do to your mother, and to you, if you refuse me, right?”

Jakob bit his lip and nodded.

“Very good.” She bent down, planting a cold kiss on the top of the boy’s head. “Find her.”

Deep in the ice, the reflection raised one hand in an obscene gesture.

Don’t show fear. It was the first rule of fairy diplomacy, but as Bellum roared her fury, Danielle was less worried about diplomacy and more concerned with avoiding those ham-sized fists. Bellum had already smashed one barrel, spilling paper-wrapped blocks of cheese across the floor. Stand proudly. In a society where a creature who resembles a child’s doll can command ogres, size means nothing.

“We invited you into our home,” Bellum shouted. “Offered you shelter. In return, your pet witch unleashed yet another spell. She tried to-”

Danielle straightened. Confidence is everything. As if she were correcting her son, she said in a mild voice, “Will you please stop whining?”

Two sets of eyes blinked in shock.

“Were you or anyone else injured by Gerta’s spell?”

“Every spell makes it more likely someone from the surface will find us,” Bellum argued. “She might have killed us all!”

“She was frightened.” Danielle pointed to the shelves. “She could have filled this room with fire, but your scrolls are untouched. She singed your curtain, blackened a few parts of the floor.”

“My hair-”

“Will grow back.” Half of Speas Elan had to be able to hear Bellum’s rage. She lowered her voice, forcing Bellum to do the same in order to hear. “You have my word there will be no further magic, nor attacks against you or anyone else in Speas Elan.”

“The word of a human isn’t worth the breath it takes to speak it,” Bellum scoffed. “If Allesandria discovers us as a result of her carelessness-”

“The humans of Allesandria are a little busy right now. Anyone with magical ability is more worried about fighting this demon than they are about finding you.” She sat and grabbed one of the blocks of cheese. “Besides, if you punish Gerta, you risk all of Speas Elan learning how a human girl and her magic got the best of you.”