Jim Hines - The Snow Queen's shadow

“I helped my cousin to escape before,” Laurence said. “But the law-”

“Damn your law.” Danielle glanced at the others. Gerta’s lips were tight with her own anger. Talia simply nodded. “You will pardon Snow White and give her the honor she deserves. Lorindar gave you your throne, Your Majesty. You will give this to Snow.”

Laurence didn’t respond. A distant voice in the back of her mind warned she had pushed too far, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She took a breath to calm herself, then added, “Also, I would reclaim my sword from your keeping, along with our other belongings, which you took while we were imprisoned in your dungeon.”

Even through the distortions in the ice, she saw him wince. “Very well, Princess Whiteshore. I will send one of my Stormcrows to retrieve you.”

“Send as many as you can spare,” said Danielle, looking back to the crumbling palace. “There are many victims here in need of their magic.”

Aside from Danielle and her friends, only the king and one of his Stormcrows attended Snow’s funeral. Her body had been cremated, her ashes mixed into the stone that formed her obelisk.

That obelisk was in place by the time Danielle arrived in the memorial garden. The garden had been better protected than much of the palace, and the walls had survived relatively unscathed, but the smell of smoke lingered in the air. Danielle identified Snow’s memorial at once by the fresh-turned earth surrounding its base. Made of white stone, speckled with polished silver, her monument stood beside the obelisk of Snow’s father.

Talia stepped forward, touching the letters carved into the side. The Stormcrow frowned at the breach in etiquette, and Laurence started to speak, but a glare from Danielle silenced him. She and Gerta joined Talia. Gerta wore a white bandage over her ruined eye. No healing magic could restore what the darkling had destroyed.

“What is it, Mama?” Jakob asked from Danielle’s arms. He had refused to be separated from her, and Danielle was more than willing to keep him close.

“It says there lived a woman called Ermillina Curtana,” said Gerta. “She was Princess of Allesandria, and she died protecting her nation.”

The Stormcrow began to speak. A slight hunch stole his height, and his bald scalp was spotted by age, but his voice carried clearly through the garden.

“An old blessing,” Gerta whispered. “It means ‘Be at peace.’”

Laurence stepped forward next. He used his scepter to cut his palm, and paced a slow circle around the obelisk, dripping blood into the earth. Gerta translated his words as he vowed to protect both Snow’s remains and her memory.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Danielle said softly. She prayed he would keep his word.

There were no songs. No prayers. Nothing but cold stone to mark Snow’s resting place. There had been no official proclamation, nor had Snow’s body been presented to the people as would be done with most nobles, but she was here among her family. She was home.

Laurence stared at the monument, his expression impossible to read. “Tell me, Danielle. Was she happy?”

“Almost always.” Danielle hesitated, tempted to leave it at that, to forget her other obligations and simply grieve for her friend. Instead, she turned to face him. “She searched for joy in everything she did, and if she couldn’t find it, she created it. Yet… there was pain. Loss. She kept it locked away, but it was there. She missed Allesandria. Her family. It was that buried pain that helped the demon turn her against you.”

Laurence’s lips pursed. “You blame me.”

“Blame changes nothing that has happened. But this was her home.” She watched him closely, searching his face. “As it was home to the fairies.”

“I see.” Laurence was no fool. “You’ve not said how you were able to locate Snow’s palace, nor how you reached her without succumbing to her wasps.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“You believe fairykind will rebel against us, as my cousin did?”

Danielle sighed, thinking of Bellum and Veleris. “I believe some of them are content to hide, while others bridle against the loss of their homes. I believe they are dangerous enemies, but they can be valuable allies as well.”

And what of those who are both? She stepped away, leaving him to his thoughts. Talia had warned her, years ago. Never bargain with fairies. They always got the better of the deal. The Duchess had risked nothing but a darkling servant, and in return, she won Danielle’s son.

“You’re welcome to remain here as long as you need,” said Laurence, “but I would recommend you let my people escort you to the harbor. The palace is broken, with only the crudest protections. With so many dead, my Stormcrows are spread thin.”

They had at least taken the time to restore the monsters from Snow’s palace. The survivors of the Phillipa had already been returned to the ship, to repair the damage done in the demon’s attack and prepare for the voyage back to Lorindar.

“Thank you,” said Danielle. “We will leave today.” She watched Gerta closely, uncertain whether she would want to remain in Allesandria. According to King Laurence, the law would not recognize a magical construct as a person, but if it was what Gerta wanted, Danielle intended to tell him exactly where he could put his laws. But Gerta simply nodded, keeping close to Talia.

“One more thing, please.” The king spoke briefly to the Stormcrow, who bowed and left the garden. Danielle glanced at Gerta, who shrugged. Laurence waited until the door closed. “Ermillina came to Allesandria seeking vengeance. She murdered those who stood with her mother.”

Danielle said nothing, uncertain where he was going.

“As king, it is my duty to appoint new members of the Nobles’ Circle. Traditionally, those seats would go to the heirs, but that is tradition only, not law.” He gave her a tight smile. “Every crisis is an opportunity, and I believe I can gain enough support in the Circle to appoint those more worthy of the word ‘noble.’ ”

Meaning some good would come of Snow’s actions. “Thank you, Laurence.”

“If there’s anything else you need, you have only to ask it.”

Danielle looked at Talia, who hadn’t moved. She stood like a statue, staring at Snow’s memorial. “Nothing you can provide,” she said sadly. She squeezed Jakob tight. “Only transportation to the harbor. It’s time for us to return home.”

By the time the Phillipa arrived in Lorindar, a crowd had gathered to meet them. Even before they docked, Talia could see Prince Armand fidgeting impatiently at the front of the crowd, cupping his eyes as he searched the ship for Danielle and Jakob. When the crew lowered the gangplank, Armand was the first to board, nearly knocking one of his guards into the water in his eagerness. When he found his wife and son, pulling them both into an embrace, those on the docks broke into cheers.

Talia used the celebration to slip away, hurrying down the gangplank and through the crowd. She didn’t begrudge them their happiness. The gods knew it had been hard-earned. She simply couldn’t be a part of it right now.

The noise made it easy enough to liberate the prince’s horse from the post where he had left it. As she rode past the naval ships and into the commercial part of the harbor, she fought the urge to board the nearest ship, to sign on with anyone who could take her to a land where nobody had ever heard of Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, or Snow White.

Instead, she rode to Whiteshore Palace. She gave the horse over to a stable hand, saying only, “Armand decided to take a carriage back with his family.” From there, she went to the chapel.