by Jim C. Hines
Talia lowered her head and walked faster, trying to keep the cart between them and the Stormcrows. Just ahead, a girl carried a little boy on her shoulders. He was bundled in a fur blanket with only his face exposed, and he kept twisting around and pointing behind him. He was crying, and kept wiping his nose on the blanket, but it was the girl’s expression that most disturbed Talia. Her lack of expression, rather. She simply stared as she trudged ahead. Not a slave to the demon’s magic, but another victim, lost and in shock after seeing her palace burn.
Talia’s tension grew with each step. There were too many people packed too tightly together, bumping and brushing against each other. It would be far too easy to slip a knife into your neighbor’s ribs. The press of bodies would keep the victim upright, and you’d be gone before anyone noticed.
She did her best to watch Danielle and Gerta, guiding anyone remotely threatening away with none-too-gentle jabs of her elbows and fists. She couldn’t see their pursuers anymore, but given the Stormcrows’ powers, that meant little. Magically disguised, they could walk right alongside Talia and without her cape she would never know.
The darkling had changed form, melting into something that resembled a blackbird if you didn’t stare too closely. It flew along the rooftops beside them.
From the murmurs around her, the people knew Allesandria had been attacked, but not by whom. Some stated confidently that King Laurence was dead, and Hiladi soldiers were even now marching upon the city. Others claimed the attack had come from Morova, and that Laurence should never have married Odelia. One man argued it was a rebellion from within, that the king’s Stormcrows were attempting to seize control.
“Mark my words,” he said. “It’s the Deathcrows, Queen Rose’s personal killers. They’ve been waiting for the right time to rise up and destroy her usurper. It’s the second Purge.”
Talia could see the wall now, burning taller than the trees. Armored Stormcrows peered through the windows of the towers to either side of the gate.
Angry shouts broke out from those closest to the gate. From the left tower, one of the Stormcrows shouted, “By order of King Laurence, the city is sealed. Return to your homes.” His voice carried clearly through the protests of the crowd, far too loud to be natural.
Talia glanced at the darkling, perched lazily upon a chimney. The darkling didn’t seem to notice the smoke passing through its body. “We could try to fight our way out.”
“Storm the tower?” Danielle asked. “With a chisel?”
“I have a hammer, too!” Gerta offered.
“Do you have a better suggestion?” Talia asked, mimicking Danielle’s intonation from before.
Danielle scowled. “Gerta, can you open the gate?”
Gerta shook her head. “I can’t control it. I might be able to get through the flames, but there’s nothing to stop the Stormcrows from killing me as I emerge on the other side.”
A change in the tenor of the crowd warned her. Talia had grown accustomed to the subdued murmurs, the muttered complaints, the weeping of children and the forced comfort of their parents and caretakers. The voices grew louder, more fearful behind her. Talia turned and swore.
The four Stormcrows had spread out. Each wielded a wooden rod that glittered blue in the firelight. As Talia watched, one Stormcrow absently clubbed a man on the face. He staggered back, and blood began to well from the cuts the Stormcrow’s weapon had left.
“The clubs are coated in glass dust from Snow’s mirror,” Gerta said. “Back in Lorindar, it took time for the demon to control its victims. Now it’s strong enough to do it almost instantly.”
People were screaming now, pushing one another to try to get away. The Stormcrows moved without haste, striking everyone in their path. Already the first man infected had succumbed to the demon’s power. He seized a woman by the arm and dragged her toward the Stormcrows.
The crowd surged past, trying to escape. Some pounded the doors of the tower. Others fled through the streets.
“Fine,” snapped Talia. “You storm the tower. Find a way to open that gate and get out of here.” She plucked the chisel from Danielle’s hand. “I’ll need this.”
“What about you?” asked Gerta.
Talia squeezed past a man bent double under the weight of the belongings strapped to his back. “I’m going to try to slow them down. Go!”
The four Stormcrows spied her at once, and began pushing through the crowd toward her. A man with a bloody hand grabbed her shoulder. She punched him in the nose, but the pain didn’t seem to affect him. With a curse, she seized his finger and twisted, snapping bone to make him release her.
She shoved her way into an alley between a tavern and some sort of clothing shop. Chunks of ice dropped onto the street, her only warning before a body leaped from the roof to land on top of her. She rolled with the impact, coming up on top of her attacker, a heavyset, gray-haired woman who looked like she should be bouncing grandchildren on her knee.
Once again, pain was no deterrent. Talia had to dislocate the woman’s shoulder to free herself, and by then more of the demon’s slaves were following her into the alley. She could almost hear Snow teasing her over yet another ill-thought-out plan.
A cold shadow swooped past her head. The darkling dropped to the ground and strode toward her pursuers. Talia glanced back to see hands seize the darkling’s arms. Moments later, those hands began to wither, fingers drying and crumbling to dust. “Don’t kill them if you can help it!”
She tried the servant’s entrance to the tavern, but it was locked and barred. Behind her, there was a flash of light. Squinting through her fingers, Talia could just make out one of the Stormcrows driving the darkling back. Where were the other three? Hopefully, they had spread out to trap her instead of chasing Gerta and Danielle.
She hurried into the next street, where she deliberately crashed into a man wearing a heavy cloak of bear fur. This was no demon slave. He shouted and fought as Talia yanked his cloak free.
From the corner of her eye, Talia spotted the darkling coming up behind her. She bared her teeth. “You can give me the cloak, or you can take it up with my fairy friend.”
The man paled.
“Sorry,” Talia said as she flung the cloak over her shoulders. She joined the fleeing crowd, adjusting her posture to try to make herself appear shorter and broader of shoulder. To the darkling, she said, “Get to Danielle and Gerta. Keep them safe.”
And then she waited, allowing herself only furtive glances over her shoulder as the Stormcrow and his slaves spread into the street, searching for her. She spied a second Stormcrow a block down.
The screaming was worse now. People pressed together with no regard for safety. Few even knew what they were running from. Their panic was infectious. Talia’s heart pounded faster, and her stomach tightened. Sweat dripped into her eyes. She fought the need to push through the crowd and escape.
Instead, she stayed at the back, feigning weakness. A hand closed around her arm, spinning her roughly around. She allowed herself to fall to her knees, keeping her hood over her face as she watched the feet around her until she spied black polished boots approaching and heard the rippling jingle of Stormcrow armor. Two men hauled her to her feet.
She slammed the butt of her chisel into the center of one man’s forehead. The other she elbowed in the throat. The Stormcrow raised his weapon high, blood dripping from the glass dusting the wood.
Talia dropped her chisel and stepped close, one hand catching the Stormcrow’s wrist, the other clamping around his elbow. She kept moving, taking him off-balance and twisting the weapon from his hand. A sharp blow to the back of his neck dropped him to the street. She crouched long enough to seize the athame from his belt with her other hand.
Two more Stormcrows ran toward her. A look back showed the third coming from behind. They weren’t alone.
“Fine,” Talia muttered to Snow’s imagined teasing. “You’re right. This was a stupid plan.”
She ran back thro
ugh the alley, lashing out with knife and club to clear her way through the demon’s slaves. Possessed or not, the crowd’s reflexes were still human, and there weren’t enough to simply overpower and smother her. Not yet, at least. She sacrificed the cloak and lost a bit of hair when someone grabbed it, but she made it through.
The instant she emerged onto the street, she felt the change. The people here were free, and surged toward the gates. The walls still burned, but the gate itself was open. “Thank you, Danielle!”
She jumped onto a cart, ignoring the protests of its owners. She glanced behind. The Stormcrows weren’t close enough to catch her.
The closest pulled a gold-tipped rod and pointed it at her. There was a heavy impact on her shoulder, but she saw nothing. Instead, the spell seemed to splatter over her body. It felt . . . sticky, like someone had bathed Talia’s skin in molasses.
Talia grabbed her knife. Every movement tugged her skin, slowing her movements. With the wolfskin, she could have easily torn through the enchantment. Without it . . . she clenched her jaw, pulling back to throw even as the Stormcrow’s spell threatened to tear the skin from her bones.
A dog snarled and seized the Stormcrow’s leg in his teeth. A rat scurried through the crowd to join him.
“I told you to get to the tower,” she yelled.
“Is that what you said?” Danielle asked innocently. “I’m sorry, I must have misheard.” She looked skyward, and a pair of blackbirds swooped down to harass another Stormcrow.
“Don’t move,” ordered Gerta as she scrambled onto the cart. “The more you struggle, the faster you’ll be torn apart.”
A donkey brayed and dragged its wagon across the road, barreling toward the Stormcrows.
“Hurry,” said Danielle.
Gerta squinted, then jabbed her thumb into Talia’s shoulder deep enough to bruise. She repeated a hasty chant, then spun and pressed her thumb to the side of the wagon.
The pain vanished. Talia flung her club, catching the first Stormcrow in the stomach. She grabbed Gerta by the arm and jumped down.
They had gone only a short distance when the wagon creaked and splintered behind them.
“I couldn’t break the spell, so I had to transfer it. That’s what would have happened to you.” Gerta looked over her shoulder at the wreckage of the wagon. It had been reduced to kindling. “It’s not a nice spell.”
Talia swallowed and grabbed Danielle and Gerta by the hands. She had already begun to sweat from the heat of the walls. “How did you get the gates open?”
“The people in the towers haven’t been infected yet,” Danielle said. “So we told them the truth. It took some persuasion, but their spells confirmed our words.”
“What truth?” Talia asked.
Gerta’s voice hardened. “That Kanustius has fallen.”
CHAPTER 17
THE LAKE WAS THE CLOSEST THING TO beauty Snow had seen since the demon showed her the world as it truly was. With her followers waiting silently at the shore, the lake was lifeless and frozen and perfect. “What do you think of your new home, Jakob?”
Beside her, Prince Jakob shivered and plopped down to sit on the ice. He had spoken less and less of late, but for the first time in more than a day, a spark of interest lit his eyes. He brushed off a spot on the ice and examined his reflection. “It’s a mirror.”
“Very good.” She conjured a gust of wind to clear a larger patch. “From the outside, Allesandria appears strong. These people have warred with humans and fairies alike, defeating all who challenged their borders. When Allesandria falls, the fatal blow will be struck not from the outside, but from within.”
With Laurence fallen, the Nobles’ Circle would pool their forces both physical and mystical to retake the palace. Nobody wanted to risk another ruler like Rose Curtana. But Snow’s mirrors had already reached the Circle.
She watched the ice, peering from one mind to the next to eavesdrop on the Circle’s debates. The Lord Protector of Voma worked to raise a stone army to defend his city. The ruler of Caronia called for an exception to the laws governing the summoning of demons, claiming it was the only way to meet this threat. One young noble even proposed raising Queen Curtana. “Better an undead queen who can be controlled than a demon-possessed king.”
Snow reached through the mirror, nudging her servants. Unlike the king, these slaves would not fight openly; they would bicker and argue, delaying consensus and sabotaging the Circle’s efforts as the chaos spread.
A thought opened a new window in the ice, allowing her to see through King Laurence’s eyes. She extended herself through the mirror shard in his flesh, donning his body like an ill-fitting dress. She stayed only long enough to plant her next command before turning her attention back to Jakob. “Your mother bargained with fairies to escape Kanustius. You’re going to help me find them.”
Several of Snow’s Stormcrows had seen the darkling. Danielle must have dealt with the Duchess. So much for those high ideals she lorded over everyone else. She was no different. When her life was at stake, she had no compunctions about dealing with criminals.
Jakob was on his hands and knees, tracing one finger over the ice. It was the most attention he had paid to anything since leaving Lorindar.
“Would you like to learn mirror magic, Jakob?”
He nodded.
The ice cracked at Snow’s touch, offering up a frozen shard the size of her palm. She handed it to Jakob. “Why don’t you try searching for your mother? Be careful. The edges are sharp.”
Sharp enough to draw blood. The more he tried to use the frozen mirror, the more his blood and magic would seep into the ice.
“I’m hungry,” said Jakob.
Snow blinked. When had she last eaten? She no longer paid any mind to the complaints of her body, but it had been at least a day . . . She gestured to those gathered on the shore, sending a small group away to hunt.
The wind blew harder, swirling snow into the air. Instead of dispersing, the snow began to solidify. Strands of ice grew like a crystalline web stretching up around her.
She glanced down at Laurence, who clutched his scepter in both hands as he spoke to the surviving members of the Nobles’ Circle, passing along Snow’s offer. Many would refuse, but some would seek her out, hoping to bargain for power as they had with her mother.
It was poetic. Almost beautiful, in its own way. Their corruption would lead them to her, and that same corruption would damn Allesandria for its crimes.
Talia used shoulders, elbows, and the occasional low kick to clear a path. The road beyond the gate was wide enough to spread out, and Talia dragged her companions ahead, all but running. Only when the road reached the outer edge of the woods and the trees began to block the flaming wall from view did she slow.
“Our supplies are gone,” Danielle commented.
“You want to go back and get them?” Talia asked. She searched the trees until she found the darkling. It had returned to what she assumed was its natural shape, crouching like a monkey in a snow-dusted pine.
When the road neared the top of the hill, Talia turned back to look at Kanustius. Smoke still rose from the palace, and she could make out smaller plumes where other fires had spread through the city. Were those started by the demon’s slaves as well, or were they merely a symptom of the spreading chaos?
“Snow would have taken the city regardless,” said Danielle.
“It happened so quickly.” Less than a day to infiltrate the palace, seize the royal family, and destroy their one hope of trapping the demon. “She has an army now.”
“Her power has limits,” said Gerta. “The Stormcrows fought hard, and many of her fragments have been destroyed.” Her voice caught, and her gaze went to the city.
“What is it?” asked Danielle.
“She created me to stop this, but I wasn’t strong enough. I didn’t find the circle in the palace until it was too late. I couldn’t stop her from taking Laurence and Odelia.”
“You got us out of
that prison,” Talia said firmly. “We’re alive, and we’re free.”
“For now.” Gerta shook herself. “I’m sorry. You’re right. We should keep moving. We know the demon is vulnerable to fairy magic. The Duchess said her darkling would lead us to Bellum and Veleris. That they could help us to save Jakob and Snow.”
They stopped at a crossroads a short distance ahead. Most of the crowd trudged south, though a smaller number turned north toward the harbor. Talia watched the darkling, which had reverted back to its blackbird shape. It flew straight ahead, toward the mountains.
Talia waited until they had left the other refugees behind to call the darkling. “Where exactly are you taking us?”
The darkling swooped to the ground, landing in the snow without a sound. “To Speas Elan.”
Talia’s teeth grated at its voice. She had never heard a darkling speak before. The words were like steel scraping over bone. The voice was high-pitched, somewhere between male and female.
“How long a journey will this be?” asked Danielle.
“I will carry you.”
Talia raised an eyebrow at the darkling.
“Even if you could carry us all, your touch would destroy us,” Danielle said.
“Only if I wish it.”
Talia snorted. “How comforting.”
The darkling’s body was already shifting, expanding into the form of a large reindeer. As Talia watched, he split apart, until a second reindeer stood beside the first. They appeared . . . thinner. She could see the shapes of the trees through their bodies.
“They’re identical,” said Gerta. “You can see the thread of darkness connecting them.”
Talia squinted until she spotted the shadow stretching from the back of one reindeer to the horns of the second. What would happen if that line were cut? Would it hurt this creature, or would they simply end up with two smaller darklings?
