by Jim C. Hines
“What do you think will happen to me if Snow dies?” Gerta asked softly.
Talia’s shoulders tightened. “She’s not going to-”
“You don’t know that.” Gerta nudged her horse ahead, squeezing through a narrow spot on the path where the trees crowded together. “We’re connected. Does that mean whatever happens to her will happen to me as well? Or can I survive alone, independent of my sister?”
“I’ve never understood magic,” Talia said, troubled by the direction of Gerta’s thoughts. How far would she go to protect herself? “What do you know of King Laurence?”
Gerta gave her an amused look, as if she knew exactly what Talia was doing. But she played along with the change of topic. “He was young when we met him. Cute, but a little too skinny for Snow’s taste. He grew up east of the mountains. The politics weren’t quite as nasty in eastern Allesandria, away from the capital. He’s a skilled wizard. Not as powerful as Snow, but trained since the time he could walk, like all nobles.”
“I hate magic,” Talia muttered.
Gerta laughed. “Says the woman blessed by fairies, wearing an enchanted cloak while riding horses charmed by her friend.”
Talia grabbed another handful of snow.
“Allesandria was founded by magic,” Gerta continued, smiling. “It’s in our blood. People from throughout the world come here to study spellcasting.”
“Talia!” Danielle had crested the hill. She was staring at a cloud of smoke in the distance, black against the gray sky.
Talia squeezed her knees, urging her horse forward. When she reached the top of the hill, she swore.
Kanustius, capital city of Allesandria, was on fire.
The flames spread in a perfect circle around the city, burning as tall as the palace walls back home. The flames were purple at the base, turning blue higher up. Violet sparks popped and flew from the ground.
“It’s all right,” Gerta said. “It’s supposed to do that.”
Danielle stared. “They set the city on fire on purpose?”
“Not the city. Only the wall.” Gerta pointed to the flames. “When we get closer, you should be able to make out the fence within the flames.”
“A fence?” Talia squinted. “Why?”
“Stone walls can be scaled,” Gerta said cheerfully. “It’s much harder to climb a wall that’s on fire.”
“It wouldn’t do much against cannons or catapults,” Talia said.
“Kanustius has other defenses.” Gerta gestured. “Two fences of flame circle the city. Each fencepost generates its own flame, adding to the wall. The Stormcrows can also manipulate the individual flames, sending them out like weapons to defend the city. In wartime, the entire outer ring can be used to repel attackers while the inner ring protects the people. Cannons and black powder don’t last long here. Nor catapults, for that matter.”
“Stormcrows?” asked Danielle.
“The magical branch of the king’s army,” said Talia. “Nasty fighters, but they rely too much on their spells.”
“How do you know that?” Danielle shook her head and held up a hand. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”
“So what triggered the defenses?” asked Talia. There was no sign of any army. What she could see of the clearing around the city appeared calm. Judging from the size of the smoke cloud, the gates had been burning for at least an hour.
Gerta’s smile faded. “Snow. They know she’s coming, if she’s not already here. Allesandria doesn’t take chances when it comes to magical attacks.”
“Will the wall stop her?” asked Danielle.
“I doubt it. She’s of royal blood.” Gerta sucked her lip as she stared down at the city. “The flame will burn anyone she brings with her, though. She’ll be able to enter the city, but there are other guardians protecting the palace. She won’t have an easy time reaching the king.”
Talia nudged her horse down the path. “Whatever secrets your mother left in the palace, we need to find them soon.”
CHAPTER 13
Danielle had grown up within sight of Whiteshore Palace. She had visited most of Lorindar, as well as four other nations, since her marriage to Armand. But Kanustius was easily twice the size of any city she had seen.
From the hills she could just make out the palace at the center. The architecture was similar to the palaces of Hilad, a design that always reminded Danielle of oversized toadstools pressed together. Every domed roof shone like gold. Given Allesandria’s wealth, it wouldn’t have surprised her to learn it really was gold.
The burning city wall blocked her view as they approached. Back home, small homes and businesses had sprung up outside of the city, crowded most closely at the gates, but here the clearing was empty. The snow had melted, turning the ground to mud. Steam rose from the earth nearest the wall. She could see stone towers positioned beyond the flames, little more than dark shadows. There would be lookouts watching the roads from within, no doubt. “How do we get inside? There’s no gate.”
“There is, but we can’t reach it unless the Stormcrows decide to let us through.” Gerta pointed to where the road met the fire. “You can see it behind the flames.”
Danielle pushed back her hood and wiped sweat from her brow. She squinted until she spied the rectangular framework in the flames. “You said the fire could be used as a weapon against intruders?”
“They say the wizard who founded Kanustius slew a hundred dragons by magic. He buried their skulls in a ring around the city, binding them to protect all who lived within.” Gerta watched the flames as if entranced. “I remember Mother ordering the fires raised once, when we were young. We were returning from the mountains, and she had heard rumors of a Morovan assassin. I remember thinking how pretty the sparks were. Snow used her magic to call one to our carriage, thinking to keep it as a pet. She burned a hole in her cushion.”
“What will it take to persuade them to admit us?” asked Talia. Her gaze flicked from one tower to the next as they left the protection of the trees. “They’ll have been watching us ever since we crested that last hill.”
Talia’s horse whinnied and stepped sideways. Eyes wide, tail compressed against her hindquarters, the mare backed away from the wall, ignoring Talia’s commands.
“Easy,” Danielle whispered. She stroked her own horse’s neck. She didn’t blame them for being afraid. If the heat was this intense, how much worse would it become when they tried to pass into the city? Only Gerta appeared unaffected, her hands tucked into her sleeves for warmth as she stared at the wall.
“We can walk from here.” Gerta dismounted and stepped away from her horse.
“Wait here, please,” Danielle said to the horses as she and Talia followed suit.
They started toward the gate, but made it only a short distance further before the heat grew too intense. Talia grimaced and said, “Subtle they’re not.”
“You thought we’d simply waltz into the city to request an audience with the king?” asked Danielle.
“You did tell him we were coming, didn’t you?” Talia cupped her hands to her mouth, then froze.
“What’s wrong?” asked Danielle.
Talia tilted her head to one side and sniffed the air. “Magic.”
Gerta laughed. “The three-story wall of blue fire gave it away, did it?”
Talia didn’t smile. She turned around, squinting at the trees behind them. She reached under her cape.
Gerta’s smile vanished as she grabbed Talia’s wrist. “Are you mad? Draw weapons here, in full view of the towers, and you’re dead. Not even you can dodge the Stormcrows’ magic.”
Talia scowled, but withdrew her hand. “So what would you suggest we do about them?” She pointed to the woods.
These wasps were bigger than the ones Danielle remembered, their buzz lower in pitch. She counted seven streaking from the trees. “Get as close to the wall as you can. They won’t like the heat.”
The horses ignored her. Between Talia, the wall, and the wasps, it wa
s all too much. They nickered and galloped away, fleeing toward the woods. Danielle did nothing to stop them. The wasps didn’t appear to care about the animals. The horses were probably safer in the woods than they would be if they stayed here.
Talia snarled and jerked her sword free of its sheath. “The Stormcrows can’t kill us for defending ourselves.”
“They can, actually,” said Gerta, but she drew a dagger of her own.
Sweat stung Danielle’s eyes as she backed toward the flames. The wasps flew at chest height, fast as sling stones. They split into two groups to attack from both sides. Danielle ducked as they buzzed over her head and circled back away from the fire.
Gerta jumped back, yanking her cloak away from her body. A wasp clung to the material, its mirrored stinger tearing one hole after another.
“Don’t move,” said Talia. Her sword smashed the wasp to the ground.
Gerta yelped. One hand went to her ear, as if checking to make sure Talia hadn’t severed it. Talia simply grinned and swung at another wasp.
“You said the wall would allow Snow to pass, because she was of royal blood?” Danielle asked. “You’re her sister. Will the wall recognize you?”
Gerta bit her lip, her face pale. “I… I don’t know. If I’m truly Snow’s sister-”
“Do it.” Danielle shoved her away. “They can’t follow you into the flames. Stay within it as long as you can, until they’re gone.”
Gerta hadn’t quite reached the wall when the wasps regrouped for a second attack. Danielle braced herself.
Blue fire crackled through the air like the breath of a dragon. Smoke and steam exploded from the earth. Four of the wasps vanished in an eyeblink, blasted to vapor. The rest tumbled to the ground, their wings dripping to nothing.
Talia swore. Fire flickered on the edge of her cape. She threw herself into the mud, rolling back and forth until the flame was completely smothered.
The column of fire continued to burn a few moments longer, roaring almost as loudly as a living dragon. It originated from the top of the wall, arcing outward like water from a fountain. It died in much the same fashion, thinning to a trickle that fell back into the wall. Danielle jumped to the side to avoid small bits of flame that splashed down.
“Are you all right?” Talia asked.
Danielle nodded. Talia appeared unhurt, as did Gerta, who stood frozen at the wall as if uncertain what to do next.
“Snow knows we’re here.” Talia brushed mud from her cape, a futile gesture that only spread the dirt. “If she didn’t before, she does now.”
“You think her wasps were following us?” Danielle asked.
“More likely she sent them here as scouts. If she’d known where we were, she would have attacked already.” Talia peered up at the wall. “I want to know why Snow never built us something like this back in Lorindar.”
“She couldn’t,” said Gerta. “The raw materials alone would cost more than your kingdom is worth. The fence is made of-” She jumped back as a man stepped through the wall beside her. The fire splattered from his body like rain, hissing where the individual flames touched the earth.
He was clearly one of the city’s wizards, but he didn’t look like any wizard Danielle had seen before. For one thing, he was wearing armor. The mail appeared to be made of gold and steel, the individual rings little thicker than wire. The gold links wove a swirling pattern like snakes converging toward his heart. His only weapon was an ebony-handled athame at his hip. He wore a black half-cape and matching trousers tucked into fur-lined boots.
He doffed a metal helm and gave a slight bow of greeting. He was slender and bald, his brown scalp shining in the firelight. Even his eyebrows had been shaved. He studied them each in turn, but kept most of his attention on Gerta. When he spoke, his words were calm, but firm.
“He’s warning us, ever so politely, that we’ll be killed should we attempt to fight or flee,” Talia said, never taking her eyes from the wizard. “His fellow Stormcrows listen from the towers. He wants to know who Gerta is and how she approached so close to the wall.”
“Be careful what you say.” Danielle glanced at the puddle where one of the wasps had fallen. A sliver of glass lay half-buried in the mud. “They may not be the only ones listening.”
Talia continued to translate as Gerta said, “My friends and I need to enter the city.”
“I’m sorry,” said the Stormcrow. “Those things that attacked you, this isn’t the first time we’ve fought them. They possess their victims. At least four Stormcrows have been turned, along with gods know how many civilians. We’re working to track them down, but we can’t risk letting more inside.”
“So you’re saying your magic can’t even show whether or not we’re infected?” Talia asked.
He almost smiled. “I sense no evil in you, but it’s the height of arrogance to assume none are powerful enough to conceal their spells from me. We prefer not to take the risk.”
“So instead you’ll wait for the next swarm to fly over the wall and attack your people?”
This time, his smile broke free. “They’ve tried three times. The flames stretch up as well as out.”
Gerta folded her arms. “Unless things have changed since my last visit, that cape marks you as an officer. You can communicate directly with the king, and he with you?”
“If the need arises, yes.”
“Good.” Gerta kicked mud over the exposed slivers of glass, then stepped past him and plunged her hands into the flame before he could stop her. In a low voice that barely carried over the sound of the fire, she said, “Please let Laurence know that his cousin, Princess Rose Gertrude Curtana, wishes to speak with him.”
The Stormcrows moved with impressive speed. Gerta barely had time to remove her hands from the wall before two more armored Stormcrows stepped through to seize her arms.
Talia dropped into a low stance. One hand went to her sword. The remaining Stormcrow, the officer, raised his hands and spread his fingers in response. Talia’s lips pulled back, and her heart beat faster. She should have no problem taking him out before he could cast a spell, but his companions were another matter.
“Don’t,” Danielle said softly. “It’s not like we can fight our way through this wall.”
“How will you know unless you try?” But Talia forced herself to relax.
The Stormcrow lowered his hands, though he kept a wary eye on Talia. “The king says to bring them in.” To Danielle, he said, “My name is Forssel, Captain of the northern wing of the King’s Stormcrows. These are Colville and Vachel. We’ll be escorting you to the palace.”
Talia relayed the man’s introduction, as well as Danielle’s thanks. The Stormcrows didn’t bother to take their weapons. Given the way Colville and Vachel were eyeing them, Talia didn’t believe for a moment the Stormcrows trusted their guests, which meant they didn’t think weapons would matter. She glanced at the scorched starburst on the ground where blue fire had incinerated Snow’s wasps. They were probably right.
“Take my hand as we pass through the wall,” said Forssel. “Keep your heads low, and let me go first. Otherwise, your bodies will be little more than charcoal when you tumble out the other side. There’s no air, so don’t try to breathe. Colville will remain here to retrieve the remains of those creatures.”
One by one, the Stormcrows led them into the city. Talia was the last to grip Forssel’s hand and approach the blue flames. The heat was almost unbearable, emanating as much from Forssel’s armor as the fire itself. When he neared the wall, fire leaped to meet him, dancing over his helm and through his armor. Sparks followed the gold patterns in his mail, jumping to the ground when they reached the bottom.
Talia had prepared herself for the light and the heat, but not the wind. Her hair rose, and her cape flapped as the air rushed upward past her body. Sparks burst from the edges of the cape as the wolf’s enchantments interacted with the dragon fire. The wall was thicker than she had realized. It was four paces before she emerged o
n the other side.
She stepped away from the flames, blinking the dryness from her eyes. The others were waiting, and appeared unharmed.
“Welcome to Kanustius,” said Forssel, backing to what was considered a polite distance in Allesandria. Still close enough for Talia to reach him with her sword, if necessary.
The streets were paved in red-tinged stone, cutting tight paths between low, blocky buildings. Smoke rose from most of the chimneys. Painted knot work, mostly in blues and whites, trimmed the doors and the narrow windows.
The air was far too quiet for a city of this size. Talia could see people watching through cracked shutters. Those on the streets moved quickly, looking straight ahead.
“This is how things felt when my mother ruled,” Gerta said softly. She stared like a newcomer, her forehead wrinkled as she took in her surroundings. “Smothered by fear. No one was allowed in the streets after dark without a permit.”
“The curfew was overturned years ago,” said Forssel. “The blue wall serves as a warning to the people as well as a defense. They keep to their homes, trusting the king to deal with the threat. But the wall has been raised for several days now, and tensions are growing.”
“How did it begin?” asked Danielle.
“Every city is under heightened alert,” he said. “We’ve been hunting Snow White ever since the murder of Lord Ollear.”
“Yet she remains free,” Talia observed.
Forssel didn’t appear to take offense. “Allesandria is well protected against invasion. Whole armies have entered our woods, never to emerge. Lyskar once attempted to expand their borders. The king of Allesandria turned the very mountains against them. But Snow knows the land, and she travels alone.
“Alone?” Danielle repeated sharply.
“She’s scattered her followers. They move singly, or in small groups.” His face tightened. “Yesterday, a seer from the university dreamed a silver cloud raced inland from the harbor. King Lawrence sent a full unit of Stormcrows to intercept the cloud.”
