Jim Hines: The Snow Queen's shadow

“A rough day, Your Majesty?” asked Gerta.

“The hardships of royalty,” said Talia.

Gerta clucked her tongue. “It must be difficult, having your every meal prepared by an expert chef, your gowns handmade by the best tailors in Lorindar, your room tended, with servants hovering about to fulfill your every wish.”

“Be fair,” Talia said. “The kingdom’s treasury isn’t endless. Why, I doubt she could buy more than half of Lorindar, at most. She’s practically living in poverty.”

“The poor thing.”

Danielle gave them both a decidedly unqueenlike gesture, earning a delighted laugh from Gerta. Even Talia grinned.

“So what’s the threat?” Gerta asked, slipping her hand into Talia’s. Talia appeared a little self-conscious, but didn’t pull away.

“Have you heard the tale of the girl with no hands?” Danielle asked.

“From Najarin, right?” Talia pursed her lips. “Her father made a deal with a devil. He cut off his daughter’s hands, and in exchange the devil rewarded him with tremendous wealth. The story says she eventually replaced her lost hands with hands of silver, and went on to marry a minor king.”

“That’s the story, yes.”

“You’ve heard otherwise?” asked Gerta.

“Rumors only, so far. A woman with silver hands was seen in the southern isles off the coast of Lorindar. Five people have been found dead. Four men and one woman, all wealthy.”

Gerta’s lips pursed. “Her father mutilated her for gold.”

“So now she punishes the rich,” Talia guessed.

“For their greed.” Danielle pulled out the note she had received. “I’ve spoken with Najarin. The girl’s father was her first victim. She killed thirteen other people before fleeing.”

Talia whistled softly.

“A mermaid named Nallinix claims to have witnessed the last murder. She says the woman’s hands absorbed magic, reflecting it back at her caster. A single blow from her silver fists was enough to crush bones. So be careful.”

“Define careful,” Talia said.

Danielle smiled. “It means you do whatever it takes to return home safely. That’s an order from your queen.”

“Not my queen,” said Gerta. “I’m Allesandrian, remember? I don’t recall swearing fealty to Lorindar.”

“Come to think of it, I don’t think I ever swore an oath to our new queen, either,” said Talia.

“You leave in the morning.” Danielle gave Talia a mock glare. “Don’t keep Gerta up too late. Some of us need our sleep.”

Gerta tugged Talia closer. “Sleep is overrated.”

The setting sun made it difficult to be certain, but she could have sworn Talia actually blushed.

Danielle turned her head, hiding her smile. “Good night, my friends.”