by Jim C. Hines
“How do you know this?” Muhazil asked.
Talia snorted. “She stole it from my family.”
“There are Kha’iida camped less than a day’s ride from the palace,” said Muhazil. “Our knives bind us. I will have them send riders to Lakhim, urging her to come to hai’ir tel.”
Roudette bared her teeth. “By the time they arrive, they might find Talia and myself toasting our victory over the deev. Imagine the stories they’d tell.”
“More likely they’ll find your corpses,” said Snow. “It’s not just Zestan you have to fight. Who knows what guardians she’s gathered in addition to the Wild Hunt?”
“Can you think of another way to find Zestan?” Talia challenged them. Nobody responded.
“Tell me when you’re ready to contact the raikh.” Roudette tapped her heart in salute, then left the tent. The idea was planted; all that remained was for the others to work out the details.
This was the end of her path, then. At last she would shed the wolfskin and complete her grandmother’s work. Soon Zestan and the Wild Hunt would be destroyed, and she would finally be able to rest.
Talia would have made a fine ruler. It was a shame she would never have that chance.
It was decided that Snow should prepare her spells in the seer’s tent, which was already warded against detection. Kha’iida magic was new to her, and she spent far too much time examining the tent itself, trying to figure out how the wards were woven into the cloth.
As a point of pride, Snow was determined not to ask Turz. She ran her fingers over the square panels of the tent one by one. There were no runes, no patterns to force the magic into a given form. It was as if Turz had enchanted every individual strand and fiber.
She laughed when she finally figured it out. Turz hadn’t enchanted the tent. She had enchanted the goat, probably moments before it had been shorn. The hair from that goat had been blended and spun together with nonmagical hair, so that every panel carried a trace of magic. Such a spell couldn’t be broken without destroying the entire tent.
With that mystery solved, Snow set to work. The others watched in silence as she used a makeshift quill to inscribe tiny symbols on the largest of her mirrors. With no proper ink, she had fetched a cup of cold coffee. The watery symbols tended to run together, and they dried quickly in the heat, but the enchantment remained, visible as thin lines of gold.
“You said before that every scrying pool was linked back to Queen Lakhim’s palace.” Snow frowned and corrected one of the symbols. “What color is the rim of Lakhim’s pool?”
“What does that matter?” Talia stood with Faziya in the open front of the tent. Faziya hadn’t said a word since learning of their plans.
“Do you really want a lecture on the properties different materials have on spells of binding and protection, or the magical laws requiring such linked enchantments to be constructed of similar substances?” Snow gave her a wicked smile. “The principles of similarity have been around for at least six hundred years. A human sorcerer named Adgis of Millgason was the first to set them down in written form. He spent his life trying to quantify the exact degree of—”
“Gold, I think,” said Talia. “I can’t be certain. I didn’t stay there for very long, and I had more important things to worry about than palace decor.”
Snow grunted and added a new symbol to her mirror. “Paint, leaf, or solid gold?”
“How should I know?” Talia sighed. “Lakhim’s too full of herself to settle for mere paint.”
Snow returned to her preparations. Magical communication carried more risk than Talia or Danielle realized. An unguarded link could allow all manner of nastiness to attack those on either side. They had no idea how much magic Snow had cast into the mirrors they each wore in order to protect them from such attacks.
“Don’t do this,” said Faziya. She leaned against one of the tent poles for support. Her other hand held Talia’s. “I saw the hedge once, before you awoke. It used to be traditional to make a pilgrimage to the hedge before taking our vows. Zestan would cast you back into that prison, and I would never—”
“I don’t intend to give Zestan the chance,” said Talia. “She’ll believe I’m helpless, a prisoner to Roudette. I should be able to get close enough to strike.”
“What then?” Faziya demanded. “Even if you somehow manage to slay a deev, you think Zestan’s minions will simply surrender to you when she falls?”
“To us,” Talia corrected. “Roudette has fought her share of fairies.”
“Oh, forgive me. I forgot there would be two of you to face the Wild Hunt.” Faziya made no attempt to hide her anger. “Your plan is foolproof, oh wise one.”
Snow cleared her throat. “Could you argue quietly, please? Rajil’s pool is well protected. I’m trying to break through without killing everyone in the tent.”
“Sorry,” Talia said gruffly.
Snow tried to concentrate on her mirror. The bickering didn’t actually bother her. She and Talia had argued almost every day since they first met, at least until recently. Until she saved Faziya. Now Faziya had taken Snow’s place, whether it was the playful banter over meals or fighting over whether or not Faziya could accompany them to face Zestan.
Snow touched a flat packet on her belt. The leather pouch held four sharpened steel snowflakes Talia had commissioned for her several years ago.
She should be happy for Talia, the way Danielle clearly was. They could be facing a deev before the night was out. Why should it bother her if Talia had a quick fling before the battle? Especially considering the odds against any of them surviving that battle. Hadn’t Snow herself been flirting with that shepherd—what was his name again?—only hours before?
“Do you trust Roudette?” Danielle asked softly.
“No.” Talia smiled. “But she wants Zestan and the Hunt destroyed as badly as any of us.”
Snow jabbed her quill into the coffee and finished her spell. She rubbed her eyes, then studied the inscriptions. “I think I’ve established a bond. We should be able to—Uh-oh.”
“What’s wrong?” Danielle asked.
Snow dropped the mirror and jumped away as a gout of flame shot up from the glass, scorching the roof of the tent. “I think they noticed me. We should probably get outside.”
They obeyed with alacrity. The flame showed no sign of stopping. It had already burned through the top of the tent. Most of Turz’s protective magic was meant to guard against attacks from outside. That magic did little against an attack from within. Snow stepped back, peeking up from outside to see how high the flames rose.
It could have been worse. The tower of fire was barely taller than the trees by the pond. The Kha’iida were running toward her, many carrying buckets and bowls of water. Not that water would be of any help against this fire.
“So you want to play?” Snow muttered as she removed a second mirror from her armband. Turning her face away from the heat, she advanced slowly toward the flame. She flipped the mirror so the reflective side faced downward. “Fine. Let’s play.”
She darted forward, dropping the mirror onto the flames. It clinked onto the top of the other mirror, sandwiching the flames between them. For a moment, fire burst from between the mirrors, spreading out in all directions. An instant later, the fire died and black smoke began to fill the tent.
Talia shoved her to the ground. Before Snow could protest, Talia grabbed a bucket and poured water onto the flames that flickered on the bottom of Snow’s robe. Others hurried past to extinguish the rest of Turz’s tent.
“I’m sorry about that,” Snow said.
Turz walked through her tent, inspecting the damage. The fire had done little to the walls, but the panel overhead had a blackened hole the size of a dinner platter. “How did you stop the attack?”
Snow wiped sweat from her face, checking to make sure she still had her eyebrows. “I didn’t. I reflected it.” She frowned at the two mirrors. “There’s a decent chance we just set Rajil’s mans
ion on fire.”
Children ran toward the tent, only to be dragged back by the older Kha’iida. The dogs were in a frenzy, riling the rest of the animals. Danielle hurried away to help get them under control.
Roudette chuckled as she studied the tent. “So it’s fair to say we should have their attention?”
“I should say so. One way or another, they’re listening now.” Snow started to reach for the mirrors. “Everyone else might want to stand back.”
“You’re sure they won’t send more fire through?” Roudette asked.
“Nope,” said Snow. “But that was a powerful spell. I don’t think they could do it again so soon.”
“How comforting.” Roudette nodded for her to go ahead.
Snow removed the top mirror. The glass was cool to the touch, showing no sign of damage. She returned it to her armband and stepped aside, allowing Roudette to take her place.
Roudette picked up the remaining mirror. “I would speak to the raikh of Jahrasima.”
Snow closed her eyes, extending her vision to the mirror in Roudette’s hand. She could see Roudette staring down at her. The hairs on Snow’s arms and neck rose as a second presence stepped into view within the mirror. Snow found herself looking both at Roudette and at the jinniyah’s shadow from the raikh’s palace. The ceiling over the raikh’s scrying pool was blackened from the flames.
It was Rajil herself who spoke, though she was hidden from view. “Whoever you are, you shall suffer for—”
“I have Princess Talia,” Roudette interrupted.
“Give me proof.” Undisguised eagerness dripped from Rajil’s words.
Roudette reached over to grab Talia by the throat. Caught off guard, Talia slammed a fist into the outside of Roudette’s elbow. Roudette grunted and tightened her hold. Snow was readying a spell when Talia relaxed, allowing herself to be dragged in front of the mirror.
“I’ve a very generous offer from Queen Lakhim for this one,” Roudette said. “I’ve been told your fairy friends can pay more, but if not, I’ll be on my way.”
Snow watched as the jinniyah stepped aside, making way for Rajil. Hatred filled Rajil’s gaze as she studied Talia. One hand touched her throat, no doubt remembering Talia’s arm clamping around her neck. Rajil’s gaze moved to Roudette. “I know you.”
Snow tensed. Roudette had been in her wolf shape the entire time they were in the mansion. If Rajil had somehow recognized Roudette and realized she was working with Talia, this plan was useless. But Rajil merely smiled. “How did the Lady of the Red Hood find the power to control my scrying pool?”
“I didn’t,” Roudette said easily. “That was done by one of Talia’s friends, a witch from Lorindar.”
“Talia’s friend helped you?” Rajil asked.
“Not at first.” Roudette bared her teeth. “They had another friend. By the time I shattered both of her knees, the witch agreed to do whatever I asked.”
Few things rattled Snow these days, but Roudette’s casual smile as she lied about torturing Danielle made her shudder. Something in Roudette’s eyes suggested she would have no qualms about doing exactly what she said if the situation required it.
“What is it you want?” Rajil asked.
“Zestan controls the Wild Hunt. I want her word as a fairy that the Hunt will never again enter Morova.”
Snow frowned. That hadn’t been part of the discussion.
Rajil didn’t even blink. “How will we find you?”
Roudette grabbed Snow’s robe, hauling her in front of the glass. “The witch will lead you.”
“The mirror,” Snow said, doing her best to sound broken and resentful. “There’s a bond connecting it to your pool. Any halfway competent wizard can follow that thread.”
Rajil smiled, hunger plain on her face as she stared at Talia. “I will pass your request to Zestan. Perhaps she’ll be kind enough to give Talia’s friends to me in payment. They would make fine additions to my garden.”
Roudette brought the mirror to her face, so close her breath clouded the glass. “You have until sunrise. I know Zestan wants Talia alive. Betray me, and I’ll kill her myself. I’ll claim my bounty from Lakhim, and you can explain your failure to Zestan.”
With a thought, Snow darkened the mirror. She tugged free of Roudette’s grip and massaged her eyes, trying to ease the headache. She still needed to cast yet another enchantment that would allow the others to follow Talia and Roudette. “We’re safe. They can’t hear us unless I let them.”
“We will follow you as quickly as we can,” said Muhazil. “The Wild Hunt has plagued my people for too long. I am in your debt.”
“Yes, you are.” Talia slashed a hand through the air, cutting him off. This was a side of Talia that Snow had rarely seen. She held her head high, articulating every syllable. She was shorter than Muhazil, but her posture made it seem as though she was looking down at him. “In payment of that debt, you will welcome Faziya back into your tribe. This shall be her home for as long as she chooses.”
Muhazil glanced at Faziya, who had gone still at Talia’s words. “She left of her own free will. She walked away from her heritage, from her—”
“Do we have a bargain?” Talia asked.
Muhazil bowed, one hand to his chest. “We do indeed, Princess.” He turned to shoo the crowd away. When the others had left, he said, “If Zestan is indeed deev, you know there is little chance you will survive. The strength of a deev can split mountains. Their temper shakes the earth itself. Their skin is like rock, their—”
“Their flatulence slays entire herds,” said Talia. “Yes, I know. I learned about the deev before your grandfather was born.”
Muhazil burst into laughter. “So you did.” He glanced to the south. “I hope you are wrong about Zestan, Princess. For your sake, and for Arathea’s.”
CHAPTER 19
“YOU’RE STAYING HERE.” Talia’s tone left no room for argument. Naturally, Danielle argued anyway.
“You’re taking Snow, but you’d leave me behind?”
“I’d leave Snow too if I could.” Talia and Danielle stood at the edge of the pond, where Talia had been filling a small skin. Even knowing the fairies were coming for her, the habits of the desert were too strongly ingrained for her to set out without water.
She should have known the conversation would follow this path. She should have just punched Danielle out the moment she started talking about coming along. Though there was still time to correct that mistake. “Without Snow’s magic, we’ve no way of leading Turz to Zestan. Or so she claims.”
“So I’m to stay behind, among strangers who can’t even understand my language, while my two best friends go off—”
“Yes.” Talia grabbed Danielle’s shoulders. “You have a son who needs you. Lorindar needs you. What would Beatrice say if she knew what you were trying to do?”
“I’ve already talked to Queen Bea,” Danielle said evenly. “I spoke with Armand and Jakob as well.” She pointed to the pouch at Talia’s belt. “Snow is in there already, I assume?”
Talia reluctantly loosened the pouch, allowing Snow to peek out. Snow made a cute mouse, with sandy fur and a long, tufted tail.
“What happens to her if something goes wrong?” Danielle asked.
“We all know what we’re walking into.” Talia pulled Danielle into a quick, awkward hug, being careful not to squish Snow between them. She had been friends with Danielle for almost two years, but she still wasn’t entirely comfortable with the hugging. “I’m sorry. I know how hard it is to be left behind. You and Snow never should have been drawn into this. Don’t ask me to risk your life too.”
“I’m not asking.” Danielle returned the hug, then pulled away. “If you’re killed, Snow will be trapped. She can’t use magic to change herself back without risking discovery. But nobody would notice an owl or hawk swooping down to snatch a mouse. Or two mice. I can get her out, if things go wrong. Leave me behind, and you condemn Snow to die with you.”
It w
as the one argument that could sway Talia’s mind, and Danielle delivered it as coolly as a master swords-man dispatching a foe. She was as bad as Queen Bea. “You stay hidden. Do nothing unless you need to save yourself and Snow. If I fall, you leave me. No rescue. No mad attempt to summon a gazelle herd against the Wild Hunt. You call your hawk and you flee. Get out of Arathea. Promise me, Danielle.”
“I promise.”
Talia sighed. “Snow, we need one more spell.” A short time later, she was setting off toward the edge of camp, a second mouse squirming in her pouch. Briefly, she considered tying the pouch shut and leaving them both behind. They would be better off, though they’d never forgive her. But if Snow was telling the truth, Talia needed her. And if Danielle could save Snow . . .
“Damn you both,” she muttered.
Up ahead, Faziya stood talking to Roudette. As Talia neared, Roudette tossed her a length of rope.
“Have Faziya bind your wrists. Don’t take long.” Roudette was already walking away. “Zestan’s fairies should be on their way. We want to be away from the valley so we don’t bring them down upon the Kha’iida.”
Talia handed the rope to Faziya. “You’re not coming, so don’t ask.”
“I know.” Faziya took her hand. Her skin was still too cool, especially now that the sun had begun to set, spreading shadow over the valley. “Even if by some miracle you get close enough to strike, the deev are all but impossible to kill. Their skin is impenetrable, save by magic.”
Talia reached into her robe and pulled out one of Roudette’s knives. “Pure iron.”
“That’s not enough,” Faziya protested. “Iron is little more than a nuisance to one such as Zestan. It won’t even scratch the skin.”
“So we aim for a target with no skin to protect it.” Talia flipped the knife, catching it by the tip of the blade. A flick of her wrist sent it spinning through the air, sticking in the stump of a small shrub no more than three fingers thick. “Do you remember when I first learned to throw a knife? I spent weeks practicing until I could plant a blade in a target the size of a man’s eye from seven paces.”