by Jim C. Hines
“What are you doing?” asked Danielle.
“Removing Veleris’ spell on myself.” She knelt and slid her fingers along one of the cracks in the ice. Blood welled from her fingertips. For an instant, Talia spotted a glint of ice in the cut, and then it was gone. Gerta’s body tightened, and she squeezed Talia’s hand hard enough to bruise. “She’s so strong.”
“So are you,” said Talia.
Gerta clung to Talia’s arm as though she would fall without support. “It’s like balancing on the edge of a cliff, trying to lean out without falling.”
“I’ve got you,” said Talia.
“So does she.” Gerta shuddered. “This way. Quickly.”
Talia helped her down the hallway into a small, circular room. Coffins of ice were laid out in a circle. Danielle rubbed her hand on the closest, clearing the frost.
“Members of the Nobles’ Circle,” said Gerta, her voice strained. “Dead. She used their blood to form the circle.”
Gerta started across the room, but bumped into one of the coffins. “You’ll need to help me, Talia. One of the mirror shards is in her eye. It blinds me. I see what she sees. I can feel her. Them. Snow and the demon both tugging me toward them.”
Danielle peered into the far hall. “It looks clear.”
“It’s not,” said Gerta. “The floor thins here so she can drop unwanted visitors into the lake. But I can get us through. The palace recognizes me now.”
Meaning Gerta was fading. Talia held her arm, helping her through the doorway. The air was colder here, making her shiver even through the heavy furs.
Gerta stumbled. “It feels like she’s trying to drown me.”
“Stay with us.” Talia began to sing an old Arathean song about a queen’s journey into the desert to rescue her lover from a deev. She kept her voice low, pitched for Gerta’s ears alone.
“I thought… you hated to sing.”
“I do.” Talia gave a gentle pull, guiding Gerta onward. “Does it help?”
“It’s beautiful.”
One tortured step at a time, they made their way down the hallway. Three more times Gerta stopped, and each time Talia feared they had lost her. If the demon took Gerta now, it could attack them all through her, and everything they had done would be for nothing. But each time, Gerta pushed herself onward, leading them through one trap after another until they reached the door.
It opened at Gerta’s touch, swinging inward to reveal a broad, domed room. Snowdrifts edged the floor, blending seamlessly with the walls and giving the illusion of an endless white plain.
“Welcome home, Sister.” Snow White sat upon a white throne in the center of the room. Blocks of ice formed a dais, a miniature glacier atop the frozen lake. Jakob sat to Snow’s left, shivering and playing with shards of ice. He didn’t appear to notice them.
“Jakob!” Danielle started forward.
“ Wait.” Only the sharpness of Talia’s tone halted Danielle’s rush toward her son.
“Thank you for returning her to me,” said Snow. She wore a sleeveless white gown. Her skin was even paler than usual, and her lips had lost their color. Both of her eyes were open, but one was scarred and sallow. Even the strands of white in her hair blended almost invisibly into her surroundings, as if the palace were slowly consuming her. A crown of ice circled her brow, every spike gleaming like glass. She rose, and the edges of her gown clinked as she stepped down beside Jakob.
“Don’t touch him,” Danielle warned, short sword in hand. But it was twenty paces to Snow’s throne. The demon would strike them all down before anyone could reach her.
“What was your plan?” Snow asked. “I know you won’t kill me. Danielle clings to the hope that I might yet be saved, and Talia lacks the strength to murder the woman she loves. You’re welcome to try, of course. You wouldn’t be the first to betray me.”
There was nothing of Snow White in her voice. Her body was taut, reminding Talia of a reptile poised to strike. She frowned, and sunlight shone from her crown, piercing the darkling and pinning it to the wall. It squealed and fought, but couldn’t break free.
“What was yours?” Talia countered. “To murder the people who tried to save you? To burn your homeland and entomb its nobles the same way your mother once did to you? To loose demons upon the world and watch it fall into ruin?”
“Not to burn, but to cleanse. Oh, Talia, you don’t understand what it’s like to finally see. The spirits you call demons will purge the lies and the corruption from this world.”
“What of joy?” Danielle asked. “Will you purge that, too?”
Snow tapped a foot to the floor. Her reflection shivered, and for a moment Talia saw not the demon but Snow White, unscarred and trapped within the icy mirror. “Your friend’s spirit survives, you know,” she said lightly. “It was Jakob who found that lingering shred of humanity, thinking it could save him. Kill me and you kill what remains of her as well.”
Talia stepped forward. As if that were a signal, cold winds swirled to life. She tried to cling to Gerta’s hand, but the wind ripped Talia away and flung her against the wall. Ice and snow all but blinded her, turning the others to mere shadows.
“Not that I mean to give you the chance,” Snow added.
“Talia!” She could hear Gerta’s cry, but couldn’t see her. And then the wind weakened enough for Talia to push away.
Gerta clung to Danielle’s arm for support. Her eyes were squeezed shut, fists knotted.
“You’re trying to possess a demon?” There was no strain in Snow’s voice. She sounded delighted, as though a pet had just learned an unexpected trick. “Not even Snow White was bold enough to try that.”
Gerta crumpled to the ground. She turned toward Talia. “Please.. .”
“I won’t let her take you,” Talia promised. Tears froze on her cheeks.
Snow’s voice hardened. “She was mine from the moment I created her.”
Gerta’s lips moved in unison with Snow’s. Her face had gone slack. Whatever magic she had used to try to control the demon-to try to protect Talia-had merely opened her to the demon’s power.
Talia lunged to the side, stepping between Snow and the darkling. The sunlight was warm, but didn’t burn human flesh the way it did the fairy. The darkling dropped to all fours behind her. “Do it,” Talia snapped.
The darkling scrambled forward, its body smoldering from Snow’s attack. Snow’s crown flared with light, but Talia kept herself ahead of the darkling, protecting it as it crawled not toward Snow, but to Gerta. It tugged her onto her back, then pressed a single finger to Gerta’s left eye.
A scream filled the palace, shared by Snow and Gerta alike. The winds died, and the sunlight blinked away. Talia raced to Gerta. “Are you-”
Gerta rolled onto her side, clutching her ruined eye. White dust trailed from her fingers. “I can feel her pain, and her fury.”
Talia hesitated.
Gerta pushed her away. “Go, damn it!”
Danielle was already running toward Jakob. Talia tore herself from Gerta and ran after Snow. She reached into her jacket, pulling out the magic-inhibiting chain they had taken from the palace. She had braided rope handles through the end links the night before, while the others slept. She grabbed one handle in each hand, tugging the chain taut.
Snow held one hand to her eye. In her other, she had created a sword of ice. She blinked her good eye, as if trying to focus. Talia ran faster, nearly slipping on the ice. She had to strike while the demon was disoriented.
Ice swirled around Snow’s body, forming armor that resembled clouded plates of quartz. She stabbed her blade into the floor and waved a hand at Talia. Danielle cried a warning as the shards Jakob had been playing with tore from his grasp and flew through the air. Two struck Talia, but the giant’s magic protected her. The darkling was less fortunate. Three shards pierced its chest, and it fell, blackness seeping over the ice.
Snow snatched up her sword. Talia dropped into a slide, kicking Snow’s legs and
sending her face-first to the ice. Talia slammed into the edge of the dais and pushed herself to her feet. As Snow rose, Talia kicked the sword from her hand and swung the chain like a whip, looping it around Snow’s neck. Talia grabbed the other end and pulled tight, crossing the links to form a circle that dug into the ice protecting Snow’s throat.
Icy claws bloodied Talia’s forearms. The demon was too strong, pushing herself up even as Talia tried to hold her. Talia kicked the back of Snow’s knees, trying to keep her off-balance.
Snow lurched backward, slamming them both onto the dais. From the sharp pain in Talia’s side, the impact had either bruised or broken a rib. She twisted the rope handles together, clutching them in one hand, and drew her knife.
“Go ahead,” Snow said, her voice harsh. “Murder the woman you love. You’ll be killing Gerta as well. How long will you survive with those deaths upon your heart?”
In the edge of her vision, Talia saw more of the white monsters enter the room. She couldn’t feel her fingers anymore. Blood covered her arms, dripping toward her hands.
Snow’s elbow cracked the back of Talia’s hand, and the knife fell away. Snow bucked, and it was all Talia could do to hold on to the chain.
She could hear Danielle shouting to her son, telling him she was sorry. Sorry for what, Talia didn’t know. Gerta lay unmoving on the ice, ignored by the creatures that spread to surround the throne. Talia pulled harder, but the armor kept the links from cutting off Snow’s breath.
And then Danielle was there, clutching her sword in both hands. Blood trickled down the edge, though Talia hadn’t seen her stab anyone with it. Perhaps Danielle had used it against one of the monsters.
No… it wasn’t their blood. It was Jakob’s blood. Fairy blood. Jakob was huddled behind the throne, and his left hand was bleeding.
Snow saw, too, and she stopped struggling. When she spoke next, she sounded almost like herself. “Danielle. You were my friend.”
“I always will be.” Danielle raised the sword.
Talia buried her face in Snow’s hair. She could feel the impact as Danielle drove the sword into Snow’s side. Snow grunted. Her armor cracked and began to fall away.
Gerta screamed. Talia could see her clutching her side.
“Gerta could still live,” Snow wheezed. “Release the chain. I give you my word Gerta will survive.”
“Don’t let go,” Gerta yelled.
Danielle had turned to face Snow’s creatures. She held her sword in one hand, and picked up Snow’s ice blade with her other. Danielle wasn’t the best student, but her years of practice with Talia had paid off. Despite the odds, Danielle stood in a low, balanced stance, her body relaxed. It wouldn’t be enough, but Talia had no doubt she would take several of the creatures with her.
They didn’t attack. Over the pounding of her blood, Talia made out the sound of Gerta chanting a spell. Her voice was weak but determined.
“I know what you left behind, Talia,” Snow whispered. “Your throne. Your lover. Your children. You could have them all back again.”
“You wouldn’t want them,” said Danielle. “You’d look upon your home and see only ugliness. Your children would be repulsive to your sight.”
“Shut up. Both of you.” Talia closed her eyes. Snow’s hair was damp with sweat and melted ice. Her body was so cold, making Talia want to pull her closer, to share her own warmth.
“Took you long enough to get here.”
Talia’s eyes snapped open. The voice was Snow’s, but without the bitter edge of the demon. It had come from within the ice. In the blood-smeared reflection, she saw herself clutching the necklace around Snow White’s throat, but in that reflection Snow had turned around to face her, a weary smile on her face.
“Snow?” Talia whispered.
“I tried, Talia. As soon as the mirror cracked, I felt it reaching for me. I realized what my mother had done. I tried to fight it-”
“It’s not your fault.” Talia’s voice broke. A part of her wondered if this was the demon’s doing, a trick to get her to release the chain. If so, she didn’t care.
“It is.” Snow’s smile fell. “I tried to cheat death. I couldn’t let go of Beatrice. I’m sorry, Talia.”
“Beatrice? What does-” Talia frowned, remembering Snow’s behavior after Bea’s death. Snow had created Gerta, a fully formed woman, from nothingness. It would have taken months to prepare such a spell… a spell to create a new body, one which could receive the spirit of another. “Oh, Snow.”
“I couldn’t let the demon escape. I knew Gerta would figure it out. In my daydreams, she was almost as clever as me.” Snow’s smile was full of mischief, even as her words grew faint. “Tell Danielle to make sure Jakob gets a good teacher. He’s a gifted one.”
“I will.” Talia almost let go, wanting only to touch the reflection in the ice. “The mirror wouldn’t have held forever. If not you, someone else would have broken the glass. Someone less able to fight this thing.”
“I know. Mother’s demon would have… destroyed everything. I couldn’t let her win.”
“You didn’t,” Talia whispered. “You beat her.”
“Damn right.” Snow blinked and looked about, as though disoriented. “Gerta loves you, you know. We both do.”
“I know.” New tears welled. She turned to where Gerta lay dying on the ice.
“So why haven’t you… kissed her yet?”
Talia smiled. She would have stayed here forever, just to listen to Snow tease her, but even as she watched, Snow’s reflection was fading. When she spoke again, Talia had to press her ear to the ice to make out the words.
“Danielle… clever woman. Jakob’s blood… weakens the demon… enough for me to do this.” In the reflection, she slipped a hand around Talia’s neck and kissed her cheek. The other Talia released the chain, which fell away to reveal the paleness of Snow’s throat.
Snow looked through the ice and winked. “Promise me… you’ll take care of her. She deserves to be happy. You both do.”
Talia’s vision blurred. She twisted her head, furiously wiping the tears on her shoulder.
“Happy ever after… is a choice.” Snow glanced away. “I’m sorry, Talia.”
“Please don’t go,” Talia whispered.
“I created her. I bound her. I can… free her.” Snow touched the underside of the frozen lake. “Mirror formed of ice so cold… sever now my magic’s hold.”
And then both Snow and the demon were gone.
CHAPTER 23
Daniellefelt the moment the magic on Snow’s sword failed. The ice blade grew heavy, and the hilt began to melt in her grip. She tossed it away, and it broke apart when it struck the ground.
She didn’t fool herself into believing she stood a chance against Snow’s beasts. Not that it would stop her from doing her best to slay them all if they came too close. But they didn’t attack. They stumbled about as though drunk, snarling and swiping at one another if they collided, but mostly keeping to themselves.
“I’m cold, Mama.”
Danielle stepped sideways, moving toward Jakob. He ran up and grabbed her jacket, pressing against her like an animal burrowing for warmth. His hands were bloody, the fingertips an unhealthy blue tinge, and he had lost so much weight. His cheeks were sunken, and there were shadows beneath his eyes. But he was alive.
“I’ve got you.” She crouched to pick him up with one arm. He wrapped his arms and legs around her body, clinging with all his strength.
Talia and Snow lay on the ice at the base of the throne. Toward the door, Gerta had managed to stand. She was unsteady, and held one hand to her side, but there was no blood.
“Gerta?” Danielle kept her sword ready. Talia had never released the chain. The demon shouldn’t have had anywhere to go. Yet how could Gerta live, with Snow- Danielle forced back tears. It was like swallowing a stone.
“It’s gone.” Gerta’s head was tilted, allowing her red hair to fall over the ruin of her eye.
�
�How?” Danielle glanced at Snow. “You said the two of you were bound. I thought-”
“I should be dead. Back in Noita’s garden…”Tears fell from Gerta’s good eye. She sounded dazed, though whether the shock came from the loss of her eye or the fact that she was still alive, Danielle couldn’t have said. “This is the death I saw. I was part of her, our fates bound.”
“Was?”
“She saved me,” said Gerta. “She and the demon were both dying, but Snow was able to cast one final spell. She severed that bond between us.”
With Danielle’s help, Gerta made her way toward the dais. Talia’s body was taut. The chain had fallen away. Pinched, bloody skin showed where it had dug into Snow’s neck.
The sight brought new tears, and Danielle hugged her son tighter.
“Is he all right?” Gerta asked.
“He’s cold.” Danielle remembered the fear in his face when she asked him to hold out his hand. But he had obeyed, knowing what was needed. He had cried when she cut him-they both had-but he never flinched away. She unbuttoned her jacket, wrapping it around him. “What of you? Your eye, your side-”
“Hurt like hell, both of them,” Gerta admitted. “But I’m not bleeding.” She pointed to the weapon in Danielle’s hand. “You shouldn’t need that. With the demon gone, the mirror shards have no hold over them anymore. They’re free, all of them.”
Even Armand. Danielle sheathed her sword and sat, her muscles gone weak as though her limbs were melting. The creatures stumbled about, confused and frightened, but no longer hostile. Jakob climbed into her lap, and she held him with one arm. With her other, she gently reached over to touch Talia’s back. Talia’s muscles were like stone.
Years ago, Talia had awakened from a fairy curse to find her entire family dead. She had fled to Lorindar, where Beatrice and Snow found her and took her in. Now Bea and Snow were both gone.
“Snow chose this,” Gerta said. “The moment our mother’s mirror cracked and she sensed what hid within. She trusted her friends to help her destroy that evil.”
“I know.” Talia didn’t move. Her hair hid her face. “This is Allesandria, home of magic. There must have been something more we could have-”