Red Hood's Revenge

could—”
    “She’s already there.” Snow stared at the mirror. “I can’t see her, but those roots were definitely from Stone Grove.”
    “That’s impossible. Even at a full gallop, she couldn’t have killed Rumpelstilzchen and made it back so quickly.” Talia squinted at the red smoke. “Are you sure your magic is working right?”
    Snow set down the mug and the note and turned to face Talia. “You’re welcome to take a turn if you think you can do better. My mother didn’t exactly leave a book of instructions for this thing. I could spend the rest of my life trying to unravel its secrets.”
    “So if Roudette’s hidden, what about Charlotte?”
    Snow plucked Charlotte’s toe from the box and held it to the mirror. “Mirror tell us what you know. Find the bitch without a toe.”
    “I like that one,” said Talia.
    The red smoke thinned enough to make out Danielle’s stepsister. Tree roots as thick as Talia’s leg snaked past Charlotte’s body. Her arms were bound at the wrists and elbows, and had been secured to the tree roots. Her legs were stretched out, tied at the ankles. A blood-soaked bandage circled her right foot.
    “There’s your proof.” Snow pointed to the smoke that continued to dance and curl at the edge of the image. “Roudette’s with Charlotte, close enough that her cape is interfering with my mirror.” Almost as an afterthought, she added, “She looks awful.”
    “It’s a good look for her.” Charlotte’s pale face was filthy, save where tears had streaked the dirt. The brown curls of her hair were short and knotted. Old scars around her eyes marred her once-smooth beauty. She wore only a torn, filthy gown which hung loosely from her shoulders. Talia leaned closer. “What’s wrong with those trees?”
    Snow massaged the back of her skull. “You really need to spend more time in the library. One of the earliest battles between humans and fairies was fought at Stone Grove. The dryads slaughtered more than a hundred men before our wizards managed to petrify the first of the trees. As the battle shifted in our favor, the dryads changed tactics, toppling their trees onto the attackers. They say the last dryad gathered up the seeds of her companions and disappeared. One day, when their new trees mature, they’ll return to seek vengeance against us.”
    Talia shrugged. “Let me know when they’re all grown up, and I’ll deal with them too.”
    Charlotte’s eyes were round with fear, her focus jumping constantly from one point to the next. She reminded Talia of a frightened animal.
    “She’s been dragged from Fairytown, maimed, and tied up in a fairy graveyard,” Snow said. “I think it’s safe to say she’s not working with Roudette.”
    Talia turned away in disgust. Charlotte was a cruel, selfish fool who had latched onto anyone she believed could bring her power. Her stepmother, her sister Stacia, the Duchess in Fairytown. If Roudette had asked, Charlotte almost certainly would have helped her of her own free will.
    “How could Roudette make it back so quickly?” Talia asked. She toyed with the idea that Roudette had hired a partner. Roudette could have sent someone else to dispatch Lang and Rumpelstilzchen. But the Lady of the Red Hood worked alone, and the butchery had been too quick, too thorough.
    “Magic.” Snow guessed. “It helps to explain why nobody’s ever managed to capture her.”
    Talia hopped from the table. “Get your things ready. I think I’m going to pack a few more knives.”
     
    When Snow was a child, she used to stay up half the night, reading by light that she captured from the moon and stored in smooth stones from the river. These days her body demanded more rest. She had managed a quick nap before dinner, but it wasn’t enough. Within an hour of leaving the palace, she found herself nodding off, jerking awake when her body tilted too far in the saddle.
    The tiny snores coming from her belt pouch only made her grumpier. In order to stay inconspicuous, Ambassador Trittibar had shrunk down to his natural size, no larger than a rag doll. Most of the time, the fairy ambassador used magic to make himself appear more or less human, presumably so nobody would step on him by mistake. Not to mention what could have happened to the poor fairy when Prince Jakob was teething.
    The fog had begun to roll in from the east. Taking the coastal highway meant Snow could see the Arantine Ocean through gaps in the woods to her left. It was a