Red Hood's Revenge

quarters and the hidden stairway within the fireplace.
    The room shared by the king and queen was empty. Talia jabbed a hidden stone in the fireplace to open the passage, then descended through the darkness until she reached the bottom of the stairs. There, oil lamps flickered beside an arched doorway. In the armory beyond, weapons of all shapes and sizes hung on whitewashed walls. Most were bladed, ranging from a tiny razor hidden within a gold ring to a sword as tall as Talia herself. There were also staves, clubs, and various missile weapons. Talia had bought or commissioned many of them herself.
    A mosaic map of Lorindar covered the ceiling. Slate ships moved through lapis lazuli seas, each tile magically bound to an actual ship of Lorindar.
    Talia studied the walls as carefully as a master chef selecting the ingredients for a banquet. She picked out several throwing knives, as well as two curved Arathean daggers long enough for hand-to-hand fighting. A single-edged short sword went onto the back of her belt. She also retrieved her zaraq whip, a spindle-shaped weapon with a thin line of troll hair connected to a sharp lead weight.
    Rubbing the scar on her forearm, Talia moved to the far side of the wall where several sets of armor hung from wooden pegs. She grabbed a pair of black leather bracers and tried them on, making sure they wouldn’t prevent her from drawing the knives on her arms.
    From there, she passed through the far doorway into the library and laboratory where Snow was working. Shelves lined the walls, bowing under the weight of collected scrolls, tomes, and other oddities. Old barnacle-encrusted jars filled one shelf. Another held a small, horned skull with a crack down the center. A troll-hair weaving sat in a discarded lump in the corner.
    Snow didn’t appear to have noticed Talia’s presence. She sat on a stool in front of her famous mirror. Beside her was a scarred and heavily stained wooden table, currently bare save for Roudette’s box and an untouched mug of tea.
    The magic mirror was as tall as Snow herself, liquid smooth and framed in platinum. At the moment, it showed only Snow’s reflection as she grimaced and leaned closer, examining her appearance. She touched the corner of her eye, stretching the skin as if to hide the faint wrinkles there.
    “You’re beautiful,” said Talia. “Get over it.”
    “I know.” Snow spoke without conceit or pride, but she didn’t pull away. “I doubt I’d be the fairest in the land anymore, though.”
    “Depends on which land.” Anything more Talia might say would only make them both uncomfortable. Instead, she fell back on familiar banter. “Are you going to spend the whole day admiring yourself? We do have a killer to catch, remember?”
    Snow brushed her fingers through her hair, picked at a few white strands, and grimaced.
    “If it bothers you so much, there are dyes—”
    “That’s cheating.” Snow tossed her hair back and flashed a carefree smile. “My mother used them all as she got older. It’s not the same.” She reached over to take Roudette’s note from the box.
    Talia moved closer, hopping up to sit on the edge of the table where she would have a better view.
    Snow touched the note to the glass. “Mirror, mirror, hear my plea. Show the killer Red to me.”
    “Not bad,” said Talia. “The second part was a little forced, but it’s better than some of your other rhymes.”
    “Hush.” Snow stuck out her tongue. Her reflection rippled and faded. Red smoke filled the glass, swirling like bloody fog and obscuring all but a shadow that might have been a woman.
    “Didn’t this happen last time, too?” Talia asked.
    “It’s her cape.” Snow picked up the cup of tea and sipped absently. Her face wrinkled. She whispered a quick spell, and steam began to rise from the mug. “It’s enchanted to deflect magic.”
    “A useful quality for an assassin.”
    Snow took another drink, still frowning at the mirror. The smoke thinned briefly, and for a moment Talia spotted hard-packed earth and pale tree roots. A blur of brown passed through the image.
    “What was that?” Talia asked.
    “I’m not sure.” Snow pressed her fingers to the glass, but the smoke had already obscured whatever it was. “Could have been her shoes, or it could have been a frightened chipmunk.”
    “How close is she to Stone Grove?” Talia grimaced. “Trittibar’s fairy falcon is fast enough to make the trip in an hour. If we had to, we