by Jim C. Hines
“Be wary. One day Jakob will leave the safety of your palace, and who knows what he might encounter. Your stories tell of those lured by the beauty of fairy magic, men who abandon the colorless mundanity of your world to join ours.”
“Is that a threat?” Armand asked softly.
“Not at all, King Armand. Merely a warning. You yourself have known our hospitality. If you could not resist, what chance will he have?” She paused briefly before adding, “I could teach him to protect himself…”
Gerta stepped to the edge of the hole. “I’m more than capable of protecting my husband.”
The Duchess laughed. “Child, you flatter yourself if you think you’ve the means to keep him from my reach. Your power is but a shadow of Snow White’s.”
Gerta matched her smile. She reached into the pocket of her gown and produced a silk-wrapped bundle. She carefully unwrapped the silk to reveal a rose of mirrored glass. The petals were thin as foil, just beginning to open. Every thorn was sharp enough to draw blood. Colored light from the windows of the chapel flashed over the rose’s surface. “Not a shadow. A reflection.”
“You sheltered my stepsisters when they kidnapped my husband,” Danielle said. “Your darklings tried to help them steal my child. You aided Arathea against us, resulting in the death of my stepsister.”
“My darkling saved your lives in Allesandria,” the Duchess countered.
“And we are grateful for its help and sacrifice.” She took the rose from Gerta and held it lightly in her hands. The glass was warm to the touch. “Just as we are grateful to Speas Elan for their aid. But you have never answered for your crimes against Lorindar, and I will not allow you to threaten my family again.”
The Duchess had opened this portal expecting to receive Prince Jakob. When Danielle dropped the rose into the hole, it passed from the chapel into the Duchess’ realm. She reacted at once, clapping her hands loudly enough to make Danielle flinch. The rose shattered.
“That was a mistake,” Gerta whispered.
Light poured from the broken glass, bathing the Duchess in orange and red. “What is this?”
“A sunrise, Your Grace,” said Danielle. “Captured within the mirror by Gerta’s magic, and released by your own hand.”
The Duchess froze.
“Six hundred twenty-four mortal years ago, the rulers of Fairytown sentenced you to death for your crimes.” Trittibar spoke more formally than Danielle had ever heard. “That sentence has never been lifted, though the king promised to postpone your death until the day you witnessed one final sunrise as a free woman. That oath is now fulfilled and witnessed.”
The Duchess’ fury burned away any trace of humanity in her face. Her white hair swirled as though in a maelstrom. Smoke and flame danced over her skin. The floor shifted, as though the entire chapel would be sucked through. The Duchess reached up, fingers curled-
The hole in the floor vanished. Father Isaac kissed the crucifix on his necklace. “I take it your conversation was ended?”
Danielle stepped back and grabbed Armand’s arm for support. He appeared almost as shaken as she felt. His face was pale, and she could feel his pulse pounding even through his sleeve.
“I’ve already sent orders to increase the guards,” Talia said. “Gerta and Isaac should strengthen the wards around the palace as well.”
“Prudent precautions,” Trittibar agreed. “But I suspect the Duchess will have more pressing concerns than vengeance. The Lord and Lady of Fairytown agree on few things, but the Duchess tricked and humiliated them both. I’ve no doubt they sensed the termination of that centuries-old bargain.” He bowed to Danielle and Armand. “Fairytown will be in your debt.”
“As they will be in yours,” Danielle said, smiling. Whether that debt would be enough to earn Trittibar his former place as ambassador, she couldn’t say, but she intended to push Fairytown to do so. It was just one of many topics she planned to discuss, along with revisiting Malindar’s Treaty and sending Jakob to visit the fairy courts to learn their ways when he was older… and the Duchess was no longer a threat.
She watched Trittibar depart, then turned to Father Isaac. “Now remind me, please. What are the formalities for annulling a marriage?”
Palace business kept Danielle occupied for the rest of the day. It was well after dark before she was able to slip away to help her husband herd Jakob into bed. Nicolette had gotten him ready, but ever since his return from Allesandria, he had insisted on seeing his mother and father before settling down to sleep. It was a demand Danielle was happy to oblige, especially on this night.
Once Jakob was finally tucked away, she slipped quietly into the hall with Armand.
He offered an arm. “How goes your day, Queen Danielle?”
“Very long, King Armand.” Danielle managed a weary smile as she slipped her hand through his arm. “I’ve mediated a dispute between the Fairy Church and the Church of the Iron Cross, met with Lord Garbarin of Eastpointe over the upcoming marriage of his daughter-”
“Isn’t she the one who ran off with a dwarf?”
“The same,” Danielle said. “And then I had to stop at the gardens to lecture the rabbits. They’ve been driving poor Leonard to distraction.” She shook her head. “Your parents did this job for more than twenty years?”
“You heard my father when I accepted the crown. I’ve rarely heard such an evil laugh.”
She kissed him. “Have you seen Talia or Gerta? There’s one final matter I need to take care of tonight.”
“Try the southwest tower.”
She should have guessed. Gerta enjoyed the view from the towers. She often snuck away to the western towers to watch the sun set. Danielle started to leave, but Armand tugged her back. He kissed her again, more deeply this time, and said, “Don’t be too long.”
Smiling, she made her way through the palace, doing her best to greet and acknowledge all she passed while fending off further requests for her time. By the time she finally reached the tower, she was seriously considering asking Gerta to cast some sort of illusion or disguise that would allow her to move about in peace.
She found them standing atop the tower, looking out over the waist-high walls toward the ocean and arguing about Fairytown. Danielle leaned against the door. “Aren’t there supposed to be guards up here?”
“I sent them away,” said Talia. “Will you please tell Gerta how many times Fairytown has used loopholes in the treaty to-”
“It’s in their nature,” Gerta countered. “Might as well ask a bird not to fly, or an Arathean not to be so stubborn.”
“I’m not saying we shouldn’t reexamine the treaty,” Talia said. “Only that our first priority has to be the protection of our people.”
“Most fairies have never raised a hand against humans. Would you imprison them all to protect us from the threat of a few?”
“Fairytown is hardly a prison,” Talia shot back.
Danielle cleared her throat. “Speaking of threats…”
Both of them turned to face her. Danielle suppressed a smile when she saw how close they stood to one another. She started to speak, but stopped to stifle a yawn.
Gerta and Talia exchanged knowing looks.
“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.”
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Document creation date: 27.08.2011
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