Red Hood's Revenge

your sake, and for Arathea’s.”

CHAPTER 19

    “Y OU’RE STAYING HERE.” Talia’s tone left no room for argument. Naturally, Danielle argued anyway.
    “You’re taking Snow, but you’d leave me behind?”
    “I’d leave Snow too if I could.” Talia and Danielle stood at the edge of the pond, where Talia had been filling a small skin. Even knowing the fairies were coming for her, the habits of the desert were too strongly ingrained for her to set out without water.
    She should have known the conversation would follow this path. She should have just punched Danielle out the moment she started talking about coming along. Though there was still time to correct that mistake. “Without Snow’s magic, we’ve no way of leading Turz to Zestan. Or so she claims.”
    “So I’m to stay behind, among strangers who can’t even understand my language, while my two best friends go off—”
    “Yes.” Talia grabbed Danielle’s shoulders. “You have a son who needs you. Lorindar needs you. What would Beatrice say if she knew what you were trying to do?”
    “I’ve already talked to Queen Bea,” Danielle said evenly. “I spoke with Armand and Jakob as well.” She pointed to the pouch at Talia’s belt. “Snow is in there already, I assume?”
    Talia reluctantly loosened the pouch, allowing Snow to peek out. Snow made a cute mouse, with sandy fur and a long, tufted tail.
    “What happens to her if something goes wrong?” Danielle asked.
    “We all know what we’re walking into.” Talia pulled Danielle into a quick, awkward hug, being careful not to squish Snow between them. She had been friends with Danielle for almost two years, but she still wasn’t entirely comfortable with the hugging. “I’m sorry. I know how hard it is to be left behind. You and Snow never should have been drawn into this. Don’t ask me to risk your life too.”
    “I’m not asking.” Danielle returned the hug, then pulled away. “If you’re killed, Snow will be trapped. She can’t use magic to change herself back without risking discovery. But nobody would notice an owl or hawk swooping down to snatch a mouse. Or two mice. I can get her out, if things go wrong. Leave me behind, and you condemn Snow to die with you.”
    It was the one argument that could sway Talia’s mind, and Danielle delivered it as coolly as a master swords-man dispatching a foe. She was as bad as Queen Bea. “You stay hidden. Do nothing unless you need to save yourself and Snow. If I fall, you leave me. No rescue. No mad attempt to summon a gazelle herd against the Wild Hunt. You call your hawk and you flee. Get out of Arathea. Promise me, Danielle.”
    “I promise.”
    Talia sighed. “Snow, we need one more spell.” A short time later, she was setting off toward the edge of camp, a second mouse squirming in her pouch. Briefly, she considered tying the pouch shut and leaving them both behind. They would be better off, though they’d never forgive her. But if Snow was telling the truth, Talia needed her. And if Danielle could save Snow . . .
    “Damn you both,” she muttered.
    Up ahead, Faziya stood talking to Roudette. As Talia neared, Roudette tossed her a length of rope.
    “Have Faziya bind your wrists. Don’t take long.” Roudette was already walking away. “Zestan’s fairies should be on their way. We want to be away from the valley so we don’t bring them down upon the Kha’iida.”
    Talia handed the rope to Faziya. “You’re not coming, so don’t ask.”
    “I know.” Faziya took her hand. Her skin was still too cool, especially now that the sun had begun to set, spreading shadow over the valley. “Even if by some miracle you get close enough to strike, the deev are all but impossible to kill. Their skin is impenetrable, save by magic.”
    Talia reached into her robe and pulled out one of Roudette’s knives. “Pure iron.”
    “That’s not enough,” Faziya protested. “Iron is little more than a nuisance to one such as Zestan. It won’t even scratch the skin.”
    “So we aim for a target with no skin to protect it.” Talia flipped the knife, catching it by the tip of the blade. A flick of her wrist sent it spinning through the air, sticking in the stump of a small shrub no more than three fingers thick. “Do you remember when I first learned to throw a knife? I spent weeks practicing until I could plant a blade in a target the size of a man’s eye from seven paces.”
    “I remember,” said Faziya. “You killed that