by Jim C. Hines
“Where are Selerin and the others?” Laurence demanded.
“They left after the execution,” said one of the Stormcrows, an older woman with a collection of silver-and-gold rings squeezed onto the fingers of her left hand. A minor enchantment decorated her fingernails, which shone and changed color like the sunrise. An intricate tattoo of interlinked symbols circled her bald pate like a crown.
Laurence’s scepter rang against the wall.
“Spiderweb,” Gerta said. “A spider’s silk is strong enough to hold a shard of glass. Even I could command spiders to weave their webs into the links of the chain.”
The older Stormcrow took the king’s arm. “Your Majesty, if there’s a chance this demon has infiltrated the palace, we must get you to safety.”
The king’s response was far too coarse and common for royalty. He kept his scepter pressed to the wall. “There are reports of a commotion at the library.”
“You underestimated her,” said Talia.
He didn’t try to deny it. “Ermillina was never formally schooled.”
“She taught herself,” corrected Gerta.
To the Stormcrows, he said, “Half of you find Queen Odelia and our children. Once they’re safe, search the palace for Selerin and the rest. We may yet have time to stop this. Summon as many guards, magical and mundane, as you need. Princess Whiteshore, you and your friends will come with me.”
Lightning struck outside as they were leaving, close enough to illuminate the staircase through the shuttered window. The thunder sounded like someone had fired a cannon inside the palace. As the sound faded, Talia heard a low humming in the distance. “Her wasps are here.”
“Fire magic works well against them,” said Gerta.
Laurence didn’t break stride. He spun his scepter, and a ball of blue fire appeared in the ring at the end. When the first wasp appeared at the base of the stairs, he jabbed his scepter, and the flame shot out like a smaller version of the dragon fire from the city walls. Both wasp and flame vanished in a hiss, and a tiny spark of glass dropped to the floor. One of the Stormcrows conjured a small ball of clay, which he used to retrieve and encase the glass.
Danielle raised her voice as another lightning bolt struck outside. “Whatever Rose Curtana used to summon the demon is here. Are you sure there’s nothing that might have been overlooked?”
“Most of her artifacts were destroyed. The rest were locked away, and have been thoroughly studied by myself and others.” Laurence grimaced. “With one significant exception, of course.”
Talia pushed open the shutters of the closest window, trying to see what was happening outside. Across an open, circular courtyard, a tower of black smoke rose from the opposite side of the palace. “How good are your Stormcrows at summoning rain?”
“Easier to steal the life of the fire itself.” Laurence gestured to one of his wizards, who stepped to the window and began working a spell.
A young boy stumbled into the hall ahead of them. He wore what appeared to be a page’s uniform, dark blue and yellow, and slightly too short for his gangly limbs. His cheek bled from a single small cut.
Talia moved to the side, one hand palming a dagger. “So much for getting the king to safety.”
“Hello, Talia.” The page smiled. “Before you act, please keep in mind that I’m merely borrowing this body. Go ahead and destroy it, if you like. I’ve found plenty more.”
The Stormcrows stepped forward to protect their king. The hair on Talia’s neck rose as they prepared their magic, but the boy didn’t seem to care.
“What do you want, Ermillina?” asked Laurence.
“To begin with, I’d like you to stop calling me that. Ermillina is the name my mother gave me. I prefer Snow.” The page strode toward them. “I trusted you. You knew what she was like, Cousin. You knew what she did to me. What she did to Roland. Yet you signed the order for my death all those years ago.”
“I protected you as much as I could,” Laurence protested. “But when you killed the queen—”
“Yes, yes.” He waved a hand, sounding bored. “So tell me, Laurence. Who will protect you now that you’ve done the same?”
Laurence frowned. “What are you talking about?”
The page sighed. “I thought about using one of your Stormcrows, but this was more poetic. I wonder what thoughts ran through your wife’s mind at the end. Did she know it was your order that put the knife to her throat, believing she was me?”
“Odelia.” Laurence paled. The scepter dropped to the floor.
The page used that moment to fling two ice wasps. One of the Stormcrows gestured, and the first wasp slammed into the wall. Talia jumped high, bringing her cape around to intercept the second. She crushed it through the cape, then ripped her zaraq whip from her belt. The thin, weighted line snapped out, catching the boy’s wrist. She tugged hard, dragging him to the floor. Before he could rise, Talia was on top of him, lashing his wrists together.
“He’s lying.” Danielle grabbed Laurence by the arm. “Queen Odelia is safe. Whoever was executed, they were escorted into the palace as a prisoner. It was someone Snow found before her wasps ever entered these walls.”
Laurence straightened and pulled away. “Of course. Forgive me.” He picked up his scepter and touched it to the wall. His visage tightened. “They still haven’t found her, or my children.”
“They haven’t . . .” The boy’s laugh was so much like Snow’s own it raised bumps on Talia’s skin. “Think of your family as your guards fight their way through the palace, never knowing if the enemy they cut down is a nameless servant or your own flesh and blood.”
“Where are you, Snow?” Danielle asked.
He ignored the question. “The same holds for you, Danielle. I could be Jakob for all you know. Think well before you use that glass blade.”
“You’re not Jakob.” Talia hauled the boy upright.
“Are you willing to wager the prince’s life?” he asked.
Talia hesitated. The wolf’s senses could pierce most illusions with ease, but this was no illusion. King Laurence’s own Stormcrows hadn’t seen through Snow’s magic.
Danielle stepped closer, and her glass sword flicked out to cut the boy’s arm. “This blade would never harm my son.”
It was all the confirmation Talia needed. She tossed him to the ground at the Stormcrows’ feet. “Your Majesty, I can take us to the queen and your children, no matter where they’ve gone. But only if you promise to spare Snow’s life. She must be given to Danielle and Lorindar.”
Laurence started to shake his head.
“She’s our friend,” said Danielle. “Would you be so quick to order Odelia’s death? We’ve no time to negotiate, Laurence.”
“If there is a way to spare her life, I will.”
Talia’s teeth ground together. It was the best they were going to get. “I’ll need something of theirs. Preferably something which carries their scents.”
They had made it halfway to the library when one of Laurence’s guards arrived carrying items from the king’s wife and children: an old wig, a pair of shoes, and a frayed blanket. The Stormcrows continued to pressure Laurence to leave, but he refused to abandon his family.
Talia set each of the items on the floor and unfastened her cape. He had a point. If he fled, the possessed queen would be in an excellent position to seize power.
“You’re sure this will work?” asked Danielle.
“I should be able to track them to wherever they were taken. If the demon transformed them, the trail will lead me to the place it happens. I’ll be able to smell the magic and pick up the scent of their new forms.” She flipped the cape about and pulled it tight. “Probably.”
The skin rippled to life, clinging to her body as it twisted and crushed her into a new shape. She dropped to the floor, holding her breath as the wolf swallowed her.
“Be careful.” Danielle’s lips hadn’t moved.
With the wolf’s senses, Talia could hear the sounds o
f fighting throughout the palace. Thunder cracked in the air, far too close for her liking. Yells and screams surrounded her, and the burning tang of dueling magic suffused her nose.
Her blood pulsed faster as the wolf urged her to sprint toward the closest battle and throw herself upon her enemies. Instead, she forced herself to take a single step forward, sniffing each item in turn. The blanket’s scent was the strongest, smelling of sweat and saliva. The shoes were the daughter’s, sour and musty. The wig was the queen’s, and carried the scent of clover, most likely from her perfume.
Talia bounded down the hall. The palace was obscenely oversized, with too many places to hide, too many fights spread over too much space. The courtyard at the center could have held all of Whiteshore Palace, with room to expand.
She picked up the queen’s trail first. Her perfume lingered in the air, leading Talia around the western side of the palace. She was so intent upon the trail that she nearly collided with a group of Stormcrows in the midst of battle. Ice wasps buzzed angrily overhead as one of the king’s wizards spun to face Talia. His hand went to the athame at his waist, and he barked out a spell.
Talia sneezed as the magic washed over her. The cape had been created to deflect spellcraft as effectively as the armor the Stormcrows wore. That armor was little use against an angry wolf. Talia’s paws struck his chest, and her weight knocked them both to the floor, sending several others sprawling. A quick nip to the wrist took care of the athame. She clamped her jaws into the metal rings of his armor and tossed him against the wall.
Fire streaked overhead, destroying the wasps. Without a sound, half of the Stormcrows turned and fled. The others started to pursue, but King Laurence ordered them to wait. He pulled two injured men aside. “See to the prisoners, and make sure every fragment of glass on the floor is found and destroyed.”
Talia was already running ahead toward double doors which had been battered open. The library beyond was two stories high, a round room with shelves that lined the walls and extended inward like the spokes of a wheel. Tall, narrow windows were spaced so that sunlight fell between the shelves, protecting their contents. Snow would have been in Heaven.
“Are they here?” Danielle asked.
Talia pressed her nose to the floor. The scent was stronger here. She padded into the library, then out again. Clover and sweat. Both of the children had been with the queen when she left the library.
She raced away, following the trail to a staircase where a small mob was holding off a group of Stormcrows and soldiers. The mob fought in silence, armed mostly with knives and shovels, though she spied a few swords and spears. The guards were doing their best to avoid harming them.
“She’s there? Beyond those steps?”
Talia gave Danielle an exaggerated nod, and she relayed the message to the others.
As Laurence and his Stormcrows advanced, Talia heard shouts from atop the stairs. The language was Morovan. She didn’t recognize the words. Something magical, judging from the burning scent and the way her hackles rose. Stone cracked, and the stairs began to crumble. Two of Laurence’s guards yanked him away.
Most of Snow’s slaves jumped clear as the staircase collapsed, but others fell into the wreckage. There were no screams, no protests. Dust obscured the worst of the damage, but the smell of blood was strong.
Talia growled, stepping onto the rubble of the bottom steps. The queen was close. She could climb this.
“Don’t.” Laurence was already turning away. Pain clipped his words. “The magic that shattered the staircase is strong enough to pull the ceiling down upon anyone who tries to climb the wreckage.”
“There’s a balcony outside,” Gerta said. “We can reach the queen through the courtyard.”
Outside, the burnt-metal smell of lightning saturated the air. Across the courtyard, flame and smoke devoured the middle of the three-story wall. The roar of the fire drowned out all but the loudest shouts.
Talia’s vision flashed white as lightning stabbed the middle of the flames. Thunder buffeted her body. She squeezed her eyes shut, seeing the imprint of the bolt on the inside of her lids.
She scooted into the cover of the doorway and dug at the edge of the fur with her teeth. She ripped the pelt back, tugging and pulling until its magic released her and her body returned to its natural form.
“Queen Odelia is a weather mage,” said Laurence. “I recognize her spellcraft. This is her doing.”
Dust and smoke billowed through the courtyard as a section of the wall collapsed in flames. “A single weather mage couldn’t do this,” said Gerta.”
Laurence flinched as another bolt struck the wall. “She leads them in their work.”
Talia peeked out of the doorway. She could see the balcony to her left, guarded by a waist-high stone rail, but she saw no sign of Queen Odelia.
The fighting wasn’t limited to magic. Talia spied one figure running along the rooftop, only to fall when an arrow took him in the thigh. She heard the clang of metal from somewhere behind her.
“Can you make it up to that balcony?” Danielle asked.
“Without knowing what’s inside?” Talia studied the wall. The bricks were smooth, with only the thinnest lines of mortar between them. She could probably climb it, but not quickly. “Maybe.”
The lightning had finally stopped, though thunder still rang in Talia’s ears. Either the other Stormcrows had wrested control of the storm away from the queen, or else she had accomplished whatever destruction she intended. Given how things had gone thus far, Talia’s money was on the latter.
She spat on her hands and wiped them on her trousers before approaching the wall. As she stepped out of the doorway, a swarm of ice wasps burst from the balcony overhead. They spread throughout the courtyard, seeking every window and open door.
Talia shoved Laurence back and yanked the door shut. “New plan. We get the king out of here before we lose him, too.”
Laurence started to argue. “The queen. My children—”
“Are gone,” said Danielle. “Along with whatever Rose Curtana left behind for controlling this demon. Did you see how the fire and lightning were concentrated upon one particular part of the palace? The secret is probably nothing but ashes now.”
Talia knew how the king must be feeling. She had retreated from Snow twice before. As a result, Snow had taken Prince Jakob. Now she had Queen Odelia and the power to conquer Allesandria. “You can’t protect your nation if this demon enslaves you.”
Laurence turned toward the rubble. Talia could see the thoughts going through his head.The stairway wasn’t completely impassible. The noise of the fighting would cover the sounds of their approach. If they could take the queen by surprise, they might have a chance. “Ermillina has my wife,” he said. “My children—”
“Are with her,” said Talia. “I smelled them. It’s too late.”
Laurence straightened. He tapped his scepter against the wall and closed his eyes, his lips moving silently. “I’ve ordered all who can to abandon the palace.”
“What then?” Gerta stared at the door. “With my mother’s secrets destroyed . . .”
They had no way of stopping the demon. No way to save Snow. “First we worry about getting out of here,” said Talia.
“And then?” asked Gerta.
Nobody answered.
CHAPTER 15
KING LAURENCE LED THEM TO A HIDDEN passage that emerged into a small, circular garden filled with marble obelisks. Danielle guessed there were close to a hundred. The walls here had no windows, no doors save the one they had taken. The sounds of battle were muffled here.
Talia scowled. “Unless I got turned around, we should be in the northern part of the palace.”
“We are.” Laurence stabbed his scepter into ashdusted earth. The top of the scepter flared to light like a lantern with too much wick. He pointed to the new-formed shadows of the obelisks against the wall. “This garden is hidden, partly by magic and partly by architecture. The shadows will fo
rm a doorway. The spell was designed to allow the king and his family to escape the palace.”
Danielle approached one of the obelisks. Each was slightly different from the next. This one was black as ink, its six sides polished smooth as glass. Specks of green sparkled within the stone. “What are they?”
“Monuments to the dead.” Gerta was standing before a smaller obelisk, round and trimmed with gold. She pressed a hand against its surface. “This is my mother’s. Her ashes are worked into the stone. Why was she given a memorial here?”
“She was Queen of Allesandria,” said Laurence.
“She was evil.”
He tilted his head in acknowledgment. “So we should pretend she never existed?”
“Argue later,” Talia snapped. “Finish the spell.”
“The portal is almost ready.” Sweat beaded Laurence’s forehead. The light was brighter now. Two of the shadows were sharper than the rest, forming the sides of a doorway. He adjusted the scepter until the tips of the shadows touched the next row of bricks. The mortar darkened, forming the doorway’s upper edge. The stones within began to fade.
Behind them, the door swung inward. Danielle pulled her sword free and ducked behind one of the obelisks for cover. Talia stepped in front of Gerta.
The guards who had accompanied the king moved to block the door. Fire streaked over their heads, spattering against the base of the wall and ruining the shadows of Laurence’s magic. Danielle didn’t understand Laurence’s angry words, but she could guess the meaning from the tone. He yanked up his scepter and turned to face their attackers.
Queen Odelia stood in the doorway, flanked by Stormcrows. Danielle spied others crowded behind her, easily outnumbering those who stood with the king.
The queen was unarmed, dressed in a dark red cloak with wide, black-cuffed sleeves. The backs of her hands were marked in the intricate brown patterns of Morovan tattoos. “Hello, Danielle. Talia.”
