The Snow Queen's Shadow

details of that encounter, only that her mother had tortured Roland to death while Snow lay helpless to stop her. “She was scared, Talia. Scared to lose you the way she lost him. Scared to feel that pain again.”
    “I’m not that easy to lose.”
    “So I’ve noticed.” Gerta placed her hand over Talia’s, weaving their fingers together. “Look at me, Talia. What do you see?”
    Talia looked up. The light Gerta had conjured still glowed faintly from her right hand. Her red hair hung in tangled waves, thicker than Snow’s, but falling in the same way. Dirt smeared her pale skin. Her brown eyes never left Talia. Eyes that held much of the same sadness as her sister’s, though Snow rarely allowed anyone to see it. “I don’t understand.”
    “You look at me, and you see her . Like I’m nothing but illusion, and eventually the spell will break and Snow will emerge, safe and whole once more.” She traced her fingertips over Talia’s arm. “She created me from the memories of a sister who never existed. Am I just a repository of her dreams? Am I a weapon to use against her? I don’t know anymore, Talia. But the way I feel when I think about you, when I hear your voice . . . when I touch you . . . that’s real.”
    “You’d be better off asking Father Isaac those questions,” Talia said. “Even our two-headed friend knows more about magic than—”
    “I don’t care about magic. I want to know what— who you see when you look at me.” Tears dripped onto Talia’s chest. “I want you to see me.”
    Had Snow ever cried in front of her? Talia instinctively tried to reach for Gerta’s face, but the ice held her fast. “I do see her. The way you lecture me. The excitement and fear in your eyes when you do magic, your forehead wrinkled in concentration, your teeth nibbling your lip.”
    Gerta looked away, but not quickly enough to hide her pain at Talia’s words. “It’s intoxicating, rewriting the laws of the universe.”
    “Not for you,” said Talia. “You don’t love it the way she does.”
    “It frightens me,” Gerta admitted. “If I was created by magic, I can be destroyed the same way. I keep wondering when the universe will realize I was never supposed to exist and take steps to correct that mistake.”
    “You’re not her,” Talia said softly. “Snow would have joked about the universe being full of mistakes, like manticores.”
    “You have to admit, they’re bizarre-looking creatures,” Gerta said with the hint of a smile.
    “I always envied her ability to joke in the midst of danger. Anger, fear, she never let them control her.”
    “Snow wouldn’t have run away.” Gerta stared into the darkness.
    “She wouldn’t have told me how she felt about me, either.” Talia shivered. The cold felt like it was penetrating to her bones. “Courage comes in different shapes.”
    “Maybe I’m just not as smart as her.”
    “Go easy on yourself. You’re only two weeks old.”
    That earned a laugh, so similar to Snow’s, only somehow . . . lighter. More free. Gerta pulled away. “Do I look like an infant?”
    “No,” Talia said softly.
    Gerta reached out again, this time touching her fingertips to Talia’s lips. Her fingers carried the taste of saltwater. She brushed Talia’s chin, sliding down to the hollow in her throat.
    Talia’s hand clenched reflexively into a fist, breaking free of the ice.
    Gerta jerked back. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t—”
    “I know.” Talia’s voice shook. “I don’t like being helpless.”
    Gerta folded her hands in her lap. “And I don’t like being told my only purpose is to die.”
    Talia closed her eyes, tempted to lie, but Gerta would never believe her. “I can’t leave Snow like this. Even if it means—”
    Gerta rubbed her eyes. “I know. I can’t either. She’s my sister.”
    The cold was seeping deeper into Talia’s body, making her shiver. “So what do you plan to do with me?”
    “What will you do if I free you?”
    “I can talk to Bellum and Veleris. Well, to Veleris, anyway. Assuming they don’t kill us on sight. There has to be another way to—”
    Gerta put a hand on her lips. “If there were, don’t you think we’d have found it already? Noita, Laurence, Father Isaac . . . Veleris is right. I’m the key.”
    Talia sighed. “I have to save her. But if there’s any way to do so without hurting you, I promise I’ll do it.”
    “Thank you.” Gerta stretched out beside her on the bridge, the warmth of