Shadows on Snow: A Flipped Fairy Tale (Flipped Fairy Tales)

by Starla Huchton

  “Best run out and test it in the woods, away from prying eyes,” Adelaide said. “Return before we leave tonight.”

  “As though I’d miss it.” I grinned at them and hurried away, eager to try out my new prize. In the quiet of the forest on the outskirts of town, I knotted a loop into one end of the flax cord and measured it for size. Once two loops rested in the notches at either end of the staff, I gave a gentle tug on the cord to check the tension. It was tighter than I was used to, but I could still pull it well enough. Taking an arrow from my quiver, I nocked it and aimed for a tree twenty yards away. The bow creaked and bent as a ripple of light passed through the cord from center to end. Eyes on my target, I released a breath and fired.

  The arrow whistled as it cut through the air, hitting its mark with a crack of splitting wood. Confused by the loudness of the sound, I jogged to the target, stunned to find my arrow sunk into the trunk halfway up the shaft. The tree split vertically in a massive gash through the bark, the damage so great I felt terribly for harming the old oak. A quick tug on the shaft revealed my shot would remain there, thoroughly embedded in the tree. I wondered if it was more than the increased tension of the bowstring that caused the devastation of my arrow, especially as none of my sisters were sure what the ramifications would be of using the magical flax to make the cord. Had my shot struck a creature, rather than a plant, the effects would have been undoubtedly fatal.

  I nocked another arrow and scanned for a new target, a boulder this time, and let fly with a softer pull. As it hit, there was a distinct spray of shrapnel, ratcheting up my anxiety. A quick investigation showed a deep pitting in the stone, roughly as deep as my thumb and wide as my fist. The arrow itself splintered and shattered and laid in bits all around.

  A deadly weapon, indeed.

  Not willing to lose more arrows than the two, especially given where we were headed, I discarded any ideas about further practice and headed back to town. Owning an object of this much power worried me. Were it stolen from me, the thief would likely abuse the horrific accuracy it possessed.

  Again finding my sisters, minus Belinda this time, I quietly discussed my results with them.

  “Even if we cannot prevent its taking, can we restrict use? Perhaps keep it to our bloodline as an inheritance?” I asked.

  Farah hummed thoughtfully. “The more generalized the restriction, the easier the ward,” she said. “I can restrict it to any but you simpler than I can an entire family line. Additionally, if you recall, our bloodline includes the likes of family traitors, and I don’t wish to see certain members come into possession of this bow if it does what you say.”

  “Any shot is a kill shot,” I said. “It matters not how gently you pull.”

  Farah turned to Adelaide. “I’ll need a few things for this. Sage, valerian petals, and red salvia, if you have them.”

  After a moment’s thought, Adelaide rummaged through her pack, removing three small pouches from a belt she lifted out. “I’ve no red salvia, but I think violet will work as a substitution, if you’re doing as I think you are.”

  Farah considered the pouches in her palm. “I think so, yes.” She turned back to me. “Rae, have you your knife?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then come with me.”

  A little bloodletting and quiet concentration later, and I flexed my hand, wincing at the movement. “Good for me I pull with my right,” I said. “The gash stings terribly, and the powder you applied to it does it no favors.”

  Farah wiped the sweat from her brow. “I’d have rather not done this tonight given our pending activity, but there was nothing for it. Will it hinder you?”

  I shook my head. “Not overmuch, I think. I’ve endured worse. By the end of the night, I think it will be a minor irritation in comparison to everything else likely to hurt.”

  “Let’s hope that’s not the case,” she said, setting a hand on my knee. “We must stay positive for this.”

  “Agreed,” I said and stood, adjusting the quiver strap across my chest. “But it’s nearly time. Are you ready?”

  With a nod, we left the back of the wagon and rejoined the others. I slipped back into my glamour and we were off, headed to meet the soldiers gathering outside of town.

  “How close is the army, Commander Preston?” Adelaide asked the head of the operation.

  “At last check, it will be two days before the main body of the forces arrive at the palace. Advanced units should arrive before first light,” Commander Preston said. “We should hold off on entering the castle until they’re closer.”

  “We can’t afford that,” Clarice said. “Today is the last day before the enchantment on the prince becomes permanent. We must move immediately. If all we’re able to do is break the spell, that will buy us time to overtake the rest.” Her words, though I knew the truth of it already, hit me hard, and I sucked in a sharp breath.

  The commander looked none too happy about taking orders from women, but made no argument. “Very well. Let’s be away then. It will take several hours of riding before we reach the grounds.”

  “The small force to infiltrate the interior should ride with me,” I said. “We’ll be taking a different direction to the western side of the castle.”

  Commander Preston nodded and signaled to a group of soldiers to one side. “Mount up, gentlemen. Three hours of hard riding await you.”

  “I’m coming as well,” Farah said, stepping up beside me. “You’ll need defense and a lookout for traps.”

  Commander Preston feigned an attempt at hiding his smirk. “My Lady, I hardly think—”

  “Wonderful,” I said, pushing past him in complete disregard. “Let’s be off then.”

  Leaving him sputtering a bit, I rounded up the men assigned to the mission and flashed him a placating smile as the ten of us rode past him. Farah came up beside me, grinning wryly. “It works much better if you don’t give them room to argue, is that it?” She chuckled.

  “In my experience, yes,” I said before snapping Cora’s reigns and leaning in to her full gallop.

  The plan was for our group to infiltrate the interior, opening the gate for the remaining force. Ideally, we’d simply hold positions at the gatehouses to either side of the massive door after a small stealth attack. I mentally traced the route through the walls of the palace, determining the quickest, but least-traveled passages inside. Once we had control of the gate and the soldiers inside, my sisters and I would find King Alder, putting an end to his evil by any means necessary.

  The closer we got to the palace, the wilder my heart beat in my chest. By the time we reached the clearing to tether the horses, my body quivered, every inch of me singing with purpose. My focus was absolute. We crept through the eastern woods, eyes sharp and ears tuned for the sound of guards. In the shadows of the trees, we waited, watching for the patrol to pass by to enter the servants’ entrance hidden by a false wall. When a pair of Royal Guardsmen went by on their scheduled rounds, I emerged, soundlessly darting across the ten-yard stretch of open area before reaching the door. The stone handle turned with the tiniest squeak, and I let myself in, leaving it ajar only an inch to mark the entrance for the others. Farah came next, followed by four more men. There was a break then, as another patrol was due past any moment. Each second that ticked by stretched out into minutes in the dark passageway, but soon enough, the remaining four soldiers were through as well.

  Silently, I tapped Farah’s shoulder, leading the party onwards. We wound down corridor after corridor, pausing any time I heard the slightest sound up ahead. A quick check to validate my route showed us precisely on track, near the queen’s bedchamber on the eastern side. Without the queen’s presence, there was no need for servants to frequent these parts of the castle, save for daytime dustings and room airings when company was due. Up a ladder then, and continuing down the eastern wall, I held up a hand.

  We’d reached the door to the stairwell leading up to the guard posts. I lifted my bow from across my
back and nocked an arrow. Sure as the sunrise, someone would be waiting mere steps from the exit.

  If I aimed for his throat, there would be no alarm raised.

  Farah’s hand on my shoulder gave me pause. I turned, the gleam on the Shield of Ellandra visible even in the low light.

  “All who stand behind me,” she whispered.

  With a nod from me, she eased past, her hand on the doorknob. I stood directly at her back, arrow drawn and ready to let fly.

  “I can’t keep silent any longer,” a man said on the other side. “Keeping him in that coffin, on display for the world, it’s not right, Sam.”

  “Hold your tongue, if you know what’s good for you,” another replied. “I like it no better than you, but you’ve seen what he does to those who disagree with him. Leniver, Adita, and Cricks all disappeared during the night after Commander Purdim heard them saying what they ought not to. There’s naught to be done for it now.”

  “But a glass coffin in the throne room?” the first said. “I can’t stomach it. Prince Leopold was a good man. He deserves better than that. He should be at rest in the crypt, with his family. It’s not right.”

  “Hush, man. You’ll get us both killed with your talk.”

  King Alder held the prince in a glass coffin in the throne room? My stomach churned at the thought of keeping such a morbid trophy, and I swallowed the urge to immediately run there. This would all be for nothing if we didn’t proceed as planned. I nudged Farah.

  The door swung open and I took my aim. “Drop your weapons in the name of Crown Prince Leopold,” I said calmly. “If you wish to see him on the throne, do as I say immediately.”

  At first reaching for their swords, the men paused and stared at me.

  The one nearest me lifted his hands. “Prince Leopold is dead. You cannot crown someone who no longer breathes.”

  “By dawn’s light, he will again,” I replied. “Choose your loyalty now: the usurping Dinnarian, or the rightful heir.”

  “Dinnarian?” the second man said, mustache twitching. “But the Dinnarians were wiped out centuries ago.”

  “Choose. I haven’t time to argue. The Sericean army approaches and the gates must be opened.”

  The first man stepped forward. “If the army fights for the prince, so do I. You have my sword.” He knelt before us.

  My arrow shifted, aimed for the neck of the other. “Choose.”

  It took him a few moments of consideration, but a last glance at the kneeling guard swayed him. Reaching inside his coat, he produced a key. “For the eastern gatehouse,” he said. “Four guard the outside, two inside at the wheel, all king’s men. The bridge between holds another four, then two at the wheel of the western gatehouse. If you make it that far, bar the door. The iron will keep any from entering the other side.”

  I considered the first man. “If I have your sword, you’ll keep watch here. Tell none we passed.”

  “You have my word.”

  He rose and returned to his position, his face a mask of determination. Erring on the side of caution, I flicked my head to the soldier behind me. “Take his weapons. He’ll come with us.” I kept my eyes on the second guard. I didn’t fully trust him. “Your job is to unlock the door when the way is clear. A word of warning: my arrows do not miss or slow for flesh. There will be one on you at all times.”

  Nodding, he turned for the stairs to the gatehouse. We proceeded after him. Farah at my side, shield out and ready, her lips moved as she wove a ward behind us. When all eight behind us were through, I felt it close around the mouth of the stairwell. From the way the hairs on my neck lifted, very few would try to breach that spell.

  The time for blood was upon us.

  Chapter 17

  My arrow pierced the body of the third guard, the power of it pushing through his skull to strike the heart of the man on the stairs behind him. They fell back against the metal with a clang, alerting those on the other side of the iron door. With a nudge from the sword of a soldier behind him, the Royal Guard with the key hurried up to the door, unlocking it and pushing it open. We swarmed in from behind, overtaking him immediately and rushing the men inside. Leaving two of our number at the wheel, we pressed onwards, meeting the guards on the bridge with blades. Taking aim, I shot for the last of the eastern gatehouse guards, pinning him against the wooden frame of the door, a feathered shaft sticking from his chest as a macabre brooch.

  “Bolt the door!” I said to the soldier nearest the far end. “Secure our hold!”

  As the last of the Royal Guard dropped in a crimson heap, I turned to Farah. “The throne room. We’ll go now to avoid the rush here.”

  With a nod, she followed me to the door of the western gatehouse, and I looked back at the men at the wheel. “Bolt this one the minute we’re gone. Let none pass. You must hold this room at all costs. Once it’s secure, throw open the gates.”

  The man saluted, and Farah and I exited, running down the stairs past the still bodies of the guards already fallen to my bow. There was no time for prayers to the spirits this night, and little thought to spare for the lives ended.

  Back inside the wall passages, my sister and I crept through the palace unseen. Halfway to the throne room, the sound of pounding feet and cries of battle seeped through the stone. The fight for the castle had begun in earnest.

  “What of our sisters, Rae?” Farah said. “They don’t yet know where we’re headed.”

  I grimaced. “We must have faith they’ll find us. Perhaps Delphine’s mirror will be of some use to them. If not, we must proceed regardless. He hasn’t much time left.”

  Silence fell again as we reached another part of the castle. We were close now, though I wasn’t completely certain where the exit before us led. Farah set a hand to the door, her eyes closed in concentration.

  “Powerful magic lies on the other side,” she said softly. “I cannot say what, but it’s more complex a spell than any I’ve encountered before.”

  “You think it’s the coffin?”

  She glanced at me over her shoulder and shrugged. “It could be. This is the throne room?”

  I nodded. “This should be the servants’ entrance I used at the masked ball.”

  “Then there’s only one way to know for certain,” Farah said. She placed a light kiss on the edge of her shield. “Spirits be with us.”

  Peeking into the room, Farah checked for anyone within sight. She sucked in a breath as she fully opened the door, revealing a scene that stole the air from my lungs.

  When last I was there, the place was resplendent and filled with guests dressed in lavish refinement, candles illuminating every gilded surface. Now, the throne room was dark, lit only by the eerie glow of the object at the base of the dais leading to the thrones. Upon a stone pedestal rested a faceted glass coffin, the motionless form of Prince Leopold encased within. It pulsed with a low hum of enchantment, the light it gave subtly shifting with each beat. Trembling, I crossed the room, stopping five paces from it. I stared at it, overcome with the beauty of both the magical prison and the peaceful expression on the prince’s face. His cheeks still held the warmth of life.

  Paralyzed, I stayed there, my eyes fixed on him. It was my fault he was that way. I couldn’t protect him, couldn’t warn him in time.

  As Farah stopped beside me, a new feeling solidified in my stomach. A fierce determination crept up from the depths of helpless darkness weighing me down, and I knew, without any hesitation, that I would bring an end to the trail of misery King Alder caused in his pursuits. The resolution burned in my gut, filling me with a singular purpose.

  “I will end this,” I whispered, taking a step forward, then another. Three steps away, I lifted my hand, poised to open the beautiful abomination before me.

  “Rae, stop!” Farah cried out, but too late.

  Blinding light erupted from the casket, blasting me off of my feet and halfway across the room. I slid on my back over the floor, skidding along the polished stone before I came to a res
t against the edge of the grand staircase leading up to the main doors. The pain took several moments to fully register, and I curled up on myself as it radiated through my body. Needing my energy reserves, I let go of my glamour.

  Farah ran to me, kneeling down to my level. “Are you all right? It’s warded like nothing I’ve seen before. I tried to warn you, but…”

  With a groan, I pushed myself to standing. “I’m fine. Just a bit bruised.” Every inch of me ached, my skin stinging from contact with so much power. I attempted to stretch out some of the hurt, my thoughts racing. “How can we get through it? If we can’t reach him—”

  The doors behind us thudded as they opened. Panicked, we dashed to the right, concealing ourselves beneath the staircase. I nocked an arrow and drew back, ready to fire at the first sign of an enemy.

  “It came from in here,” a familiar voice whispered. “He must be…” Delphine’s words died in a gasp.

  Five pairs of feet thudded down the stairs, racing towards the coffin in the center of the room.

  “Wait,” I called after them. “Keep your distance, sisters!”

  At the sound of my voice, they stopped and spun about.

  “Raelynn?” Adelaide said.

  Farah and I stepped out from the shadows, and I beckoned them towards me. “Here, come out of sight lest more than you were called to this place.”

  “The surge of power,” Clarice whispered, “was that you?”

  I grimaced. “Unfortunately. I discovered the ward on the coffin the hard way. I don’t recommend testing it for yourselves.” I shook it off. “But never mind that much. Can any of you see a way to break through it?”

  Farah closed her eyes, concentrating. Sweat beaded on her brow, and after a minute or two, she broke off from it. “I’m sorry, I can’t find any weaknesses. It’s being powered from another source, tied to something somehow. I can’t tell what.”

  “There’s something else as well,” Clarice said, pushing the spectacles gifted to her by my godmother further up the bridge of her nose. “It’s more than a simple sleeping spell confining him. There’s an enchantment on his life force. Once it’s reached its peak, it will be stolen from him, irreversibly.”