Red Hood's Revenge

disposing of anyone with the ill fortune to get between her and her target. “Roudette is bound by Snow’s magic. She’ll return with us to Lorindar, and she will pay for what she’s done.”
    “When?” asked Armand. “I can send Captain Hephyra and the Phillipa to wait for you. If you’re in Jahrasima, that puts you in the central region of northern Arathea. You’ll have to make your way to—”
    “There’s more.” Danielle told him what they had learned about Zestan-e-Jheg and Talia’s fairy curse.
    Armand’s image grew as he brought his mirror closer. “Your friend Talia is under sentence of death. By Arathean law, anyone who aids a murderer shares in that person’s guilt. If Talia is caught, you could all be executed.” He spoke in a whisper, trying to keep Jakob from overhearing.
    “What would you have me do?” Danielle asked. “Turn my back on my friend and flee to Lorindar?”
    “Yes!” He sighed. “And I know you won’t. Promise me you’ll be careful, love. Arathea sent an assassin to Lorindar. They want Talia badly enough to risk war. They won’t hesitate to kill you as well.”
    “I promise,” Danielle said.
    “Remember who you are. If anyone learns the Princess of Lorindar has directly involved herself in this conflict, the consequences could be far- reaching, and not just from Arathea.”
    Danielle smiled. “I wasn’t planning to wander about in my crown and glass slippers.”
    “Thus far, Arathea refuses to admit any knowledge of Roudette or her mission,” said Armand. “We will continue to press them. For now, please try not to start any wars while you’re there.”
    “I’ll do my best. And I’ll be home as soon as I can.” She smiled as Armand handed his mirror to Jakob, and planted a loud kiss on the glass.
    “I love you both,” she said, returning the kiss. When she pulled away, the glass showed only her reflection.
     
    Under different circumstances, Talia might have felt guilty as she lowered the farmhand’s body into the mud. He would have a nasty headache when he awoke.
    She crouched beside him, hiding behind the grain and counting slowly to herself as she waited to make sure nobody had heard. When she reached a count of twenty, she began stripping the man of his clothes. They were a little large, but that would work to her advantage. She pulled the trousers on over her own garments. The shirt followed, though she had to hack off the ends of the sleeves to keep her hands free. Smears of dirt and mud finished the job, turning her from a palace servant of Lorindar into another filthy peasant. It wouldn’t pass a close inspection, but hopefully nobody would pay that much attention.
    She froze as one of the man’s companions passed by, whistling as he dredged the irrigation ditch a short distance away. Talia waited for him to pass, then dragged the body deeper into the field. She whispered into her bracelet, a twin to the one Danielle wore. “Snow, I’ve got a body for you to take care of.”
    “Already?”
    “I could dump him in the lake to drown, but Danielle would probably complain.” She yanked her sleeve down and made her way toward the road, easily avoiding the other farmhands.
    Her entire body felt tight, braced against old memories as she stepped into the open. The damp earth changed to stone beneath her feet. The air was deliciously dry in her nostrils, carrying the sweet scent of freshly tilled earth. The crops wouldn’t be ready for months, but somehow the air smelled green and alive.
    The roads into the city were built like wide stone walls cutting through the lake. Archways far below were said to allow the water to flow freely, but few humans were mad enough to dive in to find out for certain. Some said strange creatures inhabited the deeper water of the lake.
    Like a fisherman’s hook, the smallest things drew remembrances from her past. The reeds growing along the edges of the path as she crossed the lake. The same swordlike fronds had grown in the pools back at her palace. As a child she had liked to play in the water, picking the waxy red teacup flowers for her mother.
    The lake lapped the stones on either side of the road, reminding her of the last time she had walked this path. That had been at night, the starlight reflecting off the canals behind her.
    She hadn’t planned to kill Prince Jihab. From the time she staggered out through the hedge, it had been as though some part of her still slept under the fairy curse. She stumbled