by Jim C. Hines
“Not bad,” Talia said. “Move like you did just then, shoulders loose and level, and your opponent will have a harder time knowing what’s coming next. You’re not chopping wood here. Brute force can be effective, but it’s clumsy and wasteful. That sword is keen as a razor. With practice, the lightest kiss of steel can be deadlier than brute, sweeping blows. Now let’s see if you can parry.”
Danielle braced herself. Talia’s lunge was deceptively slow. Danielle swung her sword sideways, knocking Talia’s blade aside.
“Right,” said Talia. “Let me show you what would happen in a real fight.”
Talia attacked again, as slowly and gracefully as before. Danielle tried to parry, and Talia’s blade dipped beneath her own, twisted, and smacked Danielle lightly on the knuckles.
“Of course, a real enemy would have sliced off your hand,” Talia said. “Block the upper part of my blade with the lower part of yours, and don’t swing so wildly. You look like a child playing stickball, Princess. You only have to move my sword far enough to the side that I can’t hit you.”
Danielle’s fist tightened around the hilt of her sword. What did Talia expect? Danielle had never even touched a sword until her mother gifted her with this one, and it wasn’t like she had fairy magic to guide her hand. She tried to block another attack and missed, taking a slap on the elbow that nearly made her drop her sword.
“You’re tensing up again,” Talia said. She pointed her blade toward Danielle’s fist. “Your knuckles are white, Princess.”
“Maybe that’s because you keep hitting me.”
“Better me than one of your stepsisters,” said Talia. “A tight grip costs you speed and control both.” She swung her sword overhead, bringing it down slowly toward Danielle’s throat.
Danielle raised her sword to block, but caught Talia’s attack too high on her blade. Talia pressed down, twisting both weapons around and wrenching Danielle’s sword from her hand. The glass rang against the base of a tree.
“Pick it up and try again,” Talia said.
Danielle straightened. She was beginning to understand why Snow had given up on weapons training with Talia. That imperious tone made Danielle’s teeth grate. It was like being back home with her stepsisters. Danielle was just about to follow Snow’s lead and tell Talia what she could do with her own sword when she noticed something strange.
Talia was smiling. It wasn’t a huge grin. She didn’t even look particularly happy. But the tension around her eyes had softened. As she stood there, absently twirling her sword through the air, she seemed content.
Slowly, Danielle retrieved her sword and did her best to match Talia’s stance. She was rewarded with another brief smile.
“Normally we’d go through all twelve of the basic offensive and defensive moves, but given your condition, I think we’ll take it easy and stick with the four primary strikes and parries.” Talia flexed her arms, then sank into a guard position. “Once we’re through, I guarantee you’ll sleep the rest of the night.”
When Snow shook her awake the next morning, Danielle’s arms and shoulders were so stiff she could barely move them. Her legs were even worse. She sat down and tried to stretch out the muscles the way Talia had shown her. The exercises hurt, but they did seem to help her move.
Snow laughed. “I see Talia was working with you last night. Here, try to relax.”
Danielle groaned. “Do you know how many times I heard that?”
Snow scooted around behind Danielle and began to knead her neck and shoulders.
Danielle closed her eyes again, then gasped as Snow began to work on a knot at the base of her neck.
“Any sign of my stepsisters?” Danielle asked.
“That’s why we woke you,” said Snow. She tapped her choker.
Turning, Danielle saw that all but two of the mirrors had returned. The front mirror flickered like it was catching the morning sun.
“They’re a little ways south of here, flying fast,” said Snow.
“Flying?” Danielle glanced around. “Shouldn’t we be getting ready? We can catch them before—”
“Catch them and do what?” Talia tossed their bags onto the ground. “We still don’t know where the Duchess lives. If we fight your stepsisters here, they might be able to summon reinforcements. Or they could escape again. No, we wait and let them lead us to the Duchess’ front door. Then we follow them down and do a bit of snooping.”
“What were you thinking?” Snow asked. “Does Danielle look like she’s up for your brand of torture?”
“She did better than you did your first time,” Talia shot back. “If she’s going to travel with us, she needs to be able to defend herself. Besides, I made sure to take it easy on her.”
“I remember your idea of taking it easy,” Snow said.
Talia ignored her, tossing a hunk of cheese and smoked herring into Danielle’s lap. “Eat quickly, Princess.”
Danielle tossed the herring right back for the sake of her stomach, but she devoured the cheese. She finished off a large hunk of bread dipped in honey as well, along with the lamb from last night. Then Snow offered her a leftover muffin, and memories of her nightmare nearly cost her everything she had eaten.
“I’ll get the aviars ready,” Talia said.
Snow began bundling up the blankets while Talia fed the remainder of the apples to the aviars. Danielle ate as fast as she could, but by the time she crammed the last of the cheese into her mouth, the others were already finished. “I’m sorry,” Danielle said. “I didn’t mean to oversleep. I would have—”
“Don’t worry,” Snow said. “I needed time to contact Queen Bea anyway. Besides, it’s normal for pregnant women to sleep more. Especially when Talia spends the whole night working them to exhaustion.”
“It wasn’t the whole night,” Talia said. “And the stretches should have helped her legs after all that riding.”
Snow rolled her eyes. She took Midnight by the reins and led her to the edge of the maze. Danielle followed, her hand on Wind’s neck for support.
The great beast was clearly restless, shifting back and forth and ruffling her wings. Whether she was eager to get back to the open air or simply picking up on Danielle’s own tension was impossible to say.
“Here they come,” Snow said. She closed her eyes. “They’ve transformed from rats to birds. Two hawks and a crow, skimming the treetops.”
“Wait for them,” said Talia.
Danielle nodded. A part of her wanted to fly out of the maze and swoop down on her stepsisters, driving them to the ground so she could force them to free Armand.
Between her own exhaustion and her poor riding skills, she would be lucky if she didn’t fall off her aviar.
“They’re flying hard,” Snow said. “They must have rested during the night. There’s no way they could have kept up that pace for so long.”
Talia climbed onto Socks’ back. Snow mounted Midnight, never opening her eyes.
Danielle put one hand on her aviar’s wing, the other on the long neck. The last time, Quink had lifted her onto Wind. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she whispered.
Wind snorted and dropped carefully to her knees, holding perfectly still as Danielle dragged herself onto the aviar’s back. She bit her lip as yesterday’s bruises announced their presence.
“There they go,” Snow said. “They’re skimming down the cliff, toward the river. Looks like they’re planning to dive right into the—Hey, that’s neat.”
“What is it?” asked Danielle.
“At the bottom of the cliff, there’s a shallow cave. I think it’s covered by some kind of seaweed or vines.” She opened her eyes and beamed. “That’s why they waited until morning. Even if they had gotten here last night, the river is really just a branch of the ocean, which means the tides would have covered the cave.”
“Couldn’t they transform into fish?” Talia asked.
“Stacia can’t swim,” Danielle said. “She’s terrified of water. Charlotte used t
o torment her about it. Once, before their mother married my father, Charlotte nearly drowned her in the bath. She said she was going to wash the ugly off of Stacia’s face.”
“Should have scrubbed harder,” Talia said. Before Danielle could respond, Talia twitched her reins, nudging Socks forward. “Are they gone?”
Snow nodded. “They just flew into the cave.”
“Keep an eye out,” said Talia. “I can’t imagine the Duchess appreciates guests, but there shouldn’t be anything too nasty until we get to the cave. Not if she wants to keep her presence secret.”
Midnight trotted through the branches and dropped away. Snow’s delighted shriek quickly faded.
“Speaking of secrecy,” Talia muttered. “Go on, Princess.”
Danielle leaned forward. “Let’s go.”
Before, Wind had taken off from open ground, climbing slowly and smoothly toward the sky. Not this time, with the walls of the maze so close the aviars couldn’t fully extend their wings. The branches rustled as Wind walked to the end of the path. Danielle could see the far side of the chasm through the gaps. Her throat clamped shut and her knuckles whitened on Wind’s mane.
At the edge, Wind drew her rear feet up close to her front and hopped into the chasm.
Every muscle in Danielle’s body tightened like steel as they dropped straight down. The aviar’s wings spread slowly, steering them to the left, then slowly leveling out. Danielle could feel her breakfast battling its way up her throat. She gritted her teeth and forced it down.
The waves broke over the rocks, white spray splattering the base of the cliff. They flew close enough to the river that Danielle could feel the mist when Wind finally flapped her wings and began to climb up after Snow.
Wind twisted her neck and whinnied. Danielle had the distinct impression the beast was laughing at her.
“That wasn’t very nice,” Danielle said. She unclamped her aching hands.
Up ahead, Snow hovered over the water. She pointed to a spot on the base of the cliff. At first, Danielle couldn’t see anything except wet rock and the spray of the river. Then two spots of sunlight sparkled on the water. Danielle realized they were Snow’s last mirrors, bobbing up and down with the waves. Snow held out her hand, and one of the mirrors scurried across the surface like a water bug, then climbed the cliff. Snow flew closer, and the mirror jumped into her waiting palm.
“There,” said Snow, pointing. Her other mirror swam toward the cliff.
“I see it,” said Danielle. Matted vines hung down into the water, hiding the cave from view. Dirt and moss turned the weeds the same slick brown as the rest of the cliff. Tall weeds rose to twine with the vines. The cave was as tall as a man, but much wider than the passages of the labyrinth.
“I don’t see any guards,” said Talia. “Snow?”
Snow’s forehead wrinkled as her last mirror reached the base of the cliff. It slipped past the weeds, and Danielle caught a final glimpse of the little mirror scaling the wall inside the cave.
“First rule of being sneaky,” Snow said. “Guards rarely look up.”
Talia tugged the reins of her aviar, turning him toward the cliff. They flew a short distance above the cave, close enough to the cliff that anyone inside would need to peek out through the weeds in order to see them. Danielle wondered how long the aviars could stay here without tiring. Most of the time, the aviars simply glided through the air. Hovering in one place had to require more effort. “Just a little longer,” she said, rubbing Wind’s neck.
“I don’t see anyone,” Snow said. “The stepsisters flew in unchallenged. There may not be any guards. Or they could be farther back. Some of the fairy races don’t like to get this close to the sun.”
“How far back does the cave go?” asked Talia.
Snow closed her eyes. “Maybe twenty paces. Then it climbs up and to the left.”
Talia nodded. “If this were my subterranean fortress, I’d keep my guards back, out of sight. Sound carries awfully well in a cave. They’ll hear us coming, and that gives them plenty of time to either shoot us or run for help.”
“Plus, if they were closer, their feet would get wet when the tides rise,” Snow added.
“I’m sure the Duchess is very concerned about the dryness of her guards’ boots,” Talia said. She led Socks to one side of the cave, then swung her right leg over the aviar’s neck. She had to contort her body to avoid the pounding wings as she prepared to jump down. “The water’s shallow here. Keep your eyes open for anything unusual. We’ll send your mirror farther along to find whatever’s hiding up the tunnel, and then we can—”
The instant Talia’s toes touched the water, the river seemed to explode. Vines shot out, wrapping around Talia and her aviar. One caught Socks’ wing. He screamed as he fell into the river, his other wing beating furiously.
“I see something unusual!” Snow shouted, yanking the reins as another cluster of vines reached for her. Others lashed up at Danielle. Wind flew back so hard that Danielle started to fall. She locked her legs beneath the aviar’s wings, clinging with all her strength, but it wasn’t enough. Her leg slipped.
Wind lurched sideways, slowing long enough for Danielle to recover. In that moment, one of the vines caught Wind’s foreleg. Another snaked toward her neck. The aviar screamed and flapped harder.
“Don’t fight it!” Danielle shouted, praying Wind would listen. “You’ll break your leg. Hold still and let me help you.” She twined her left hand in the thick mane. With her right, she drew her sword, trying to keep the blade away from Wind. She pulled herself higher until her face was at Wind’s ears, then swung. Despite the awkwardness of the angle, the blade easily severed the vine around the aviar’s foot.
Wind leaped skyward as Danielle knocked the second vine away. Once they were safely out of reach, Danielle looked back down. Snow was in the water, swimming away from her trapped aviar as vines and weeds reached for her. Talia’s aviar was barely keeping his head above the surface. Talia crouched on Socks’ back, slicing at the vines with her sword, but her attacks had little effect. She could shove the vines aside, but she couldn’t cut them. Another group of vines shot out, and Talia dove into the water, swimming away from the cave.
“Go,” Danielle said. Wind flew toward Talia, the tips of her wings skimming the water as Danielle stretched her sword toward the vines.
Talia surfaced a short distance from the cave. “What are you doing? Fly away from the trap!”
Danielle ignored her, waving her arm in ever wilder slashes as they neared Socks. She leaned down, her fingers clutching Wind’s mane as she tried to cut the panicked aviar free without hitting his wings. Wind whinnied, and her blue eyes were huge with fear, but she flew even lower. More vines reached out, but Danielle was able to cut them away before they grabbed Wind.
“Got it.” Danielle leaned out, and the tip of her sword sliced through weeds and vines. Socks splashed to the surface. His wings were bloody, and many of his feathers had been torn loose, but he was free. Danielle guided Wind away, then turned to see Snow clutching one of the vines in her hand. She sat by the cliff on a slowly spreading patch of ice. The tips of the weeds poked through the ice. They quivered and bent toward Snow, but couldn’t break free to seize her.
Talia clung to the edge of the ice with one hand as she waved Danielle away. Midnight splashed through the water, swimming away from the cave.
“Get back to Arlorran,” Talia yelled. “Have him contact Queen Bea.”
Danielle was already guiding Wind toward Snow and Talia. Given the aviar’s enormous wings, there was barely room for one to ride upon Wind’s back, let alone three. But if Danielle could reach her friends, they might be able to cling to her legs, and she could pull them through the water to safety.
Several more of the vines snapped out. They appeared to be growing longer. Danielle cut one. Another wrapped around Snow’s forearm and immediately began to freeze.
“There’s troll hair wound through these vines,” Snow said, so
unding irritated. Puffs of white breath marked her words. She twisted her arm, and a new layer of frost spread up the vine. “Another purchase from Brahkop’s former shop. That’s what makes them so strong.”
“Talia! Catch!” Danielle tossed her sword.
Talia dropped her own weapon on the ice and reached up, snagging the sword by the crossguard. She bobbed beneath the water, then launched herself even higher. A single swing freed Snow’s arm. Another severed two more vines as they reached toward Talia.
Fog had begun to rise around Snow. Danielle could see her teeth chattering, but Snow didn’t move. The spray of the waves transformed to flakes of snow. Talia grabbed one of the frozen vines and pulled herself up onto the ice.
“Get Snow out of here,” Talia said.
“What about you?” Danielle asked.
“Your mount is exhausted, Princess. You can’t take all three of us. Snow’s as skinny as a child, and you’re not much heavier.”
“Hey,” Snow protested. “I’m not all childlike.” She glanced down at her clothes. Soaked to the skin, they more than proved her point.
Danielle shook her head. “I’m not leaving you alone.”
“Dammit, Princess, I can take care of myself,” Talia said. She tossed the sword back to Danielle, who barely managed to catch hold of the blade. It was a miracle she didn’t slice off her own hand.
Talia picked up her own weapon and pointed. “I’ll swim after the other aviars, and you can come get me once Snow’s safe.”
Snow kept looking back and forth between the two of them. By now, most of the vines were cut or frozen. “Could you two argue a little more quickly?” she asked. “This water is freezing, and the Duchess’ guards should be showing up any moment now.”
“Oh, no, the Duchess prefers not to involve herself in our little family squabble.” The sneer in Stacia’s voice was identical to the one Danielle had heard from her stepmother all those years. The vines had parted to reveal Stacia, Charlotte, and their darkling companion. “You arrived faster than I expected, Cinderwench.”
Talia had already drawn her knife. She threw, but the darkling was faster, springing into the air to protect Stacia. The knife bounced off of his shoulder and disappeared with a splash. The darkling scrambled on the damp, frosty stone, trying to climb back to his mistress.