The Snow Queen's Shadow

will they say to the revelation that their future ruler is less than fully human?”
    Talia scowled. “Your lives—Jakob’s life—might be easier if certain things were kept secret.”
    As they rode, Danielle found herself thinking of the bargain the Duchess had reached with the fairies of Speas Elan. The fairies of Allesandria had been hunted down, nearly driven into extinction, but was Lorindar any better? Their own war with fairykind had ended with Malindar’s Treaty, which confined fairykind to a single walled city. Was that treaty so different from the Duchess’ terms?
    Every history she had read described conflict between human and fairy. In Arathea, the fairies had used Talia’s curse to wipe out the ruling line, plunging the nobles into chaos. In Allesandria and Lorindar, the humans had triumphed. But they were all variations of the same basic war, played out again and again. “Do you know of any land where humans and fairies live in peace, as equals?”
    Talia raised an eyebrow. Gerta shook her head and said, “Not for very long.”
    “Fairy magic could have fought this demon,” Danielle said, “but Allesandria slaughtered its fairies.” The most powerful fairies would have been the first to be destroyed. Had the demon recognized its vulnerabilities? Was that another reason it had fled to Allesandria?
    Jakob was both human and fairy. Danielle would have sooner died than give her son into the Duchess’ hands, and yet . . . he would be king of Lorindar when he was older. What could he accomplish, with connections to both worlds?
    She closed her eyes, imagining Jakob as a man. A leader, trained to navigate human politics as well as fairy. He could change things. Humans and fairies, no longer enemies bound by a treaty, but true allies.
    Noble families had been known to send their children to serve in foreign courts. The King and Queen of Fairytown rarely spoke to one another, but it would make sense for Jakob to visit both . . . when he was old enough.
    Instead, the Duchess had claimed him. Her bargain with Bellum and Veleris was proof of her hunger for power, a hunger which would doubtless twist Jakob as well, poisoning that future. Instead of bringing human and fairy together, the Duchess would use Jakob against her enemies on all sides.
    Danielle refused to consider the possibility that they might be unable to save her son, that both he and Armand would be lost to her forever.
    “You’re still thinking about Jakob,” Talia guessed. “We will find a way to destroy this demon. As for the Duchess—”
    Danielle raised a hand, cutting her off. The darkling served them by the Duchess’ order, but Danielle had no doubt the creature was listening to their every word, and would report back to its master.
    “I made a bargain.” To rescue Jakob from the demon, only to lose him again. She closed her eyes, waiting for the pain to recede enough for her to reclaim those images of her son grown to adulthood. Taking his place as King of Lorindar. Reaching out to Fairytown and rewriting the treaty. Taking a wife. Having children of his own.
    “We’ll get him back,” said Talia. “We’ll get them all back.”
    Danielle managed a smile, but said nothing. Talia sounded much like Danielle had several years ago, always insisting everything would work out. Danielle remembered well what Talia had said to her at the time.
    “Just because your story had a happy ending doesn’t mean everyone else’s will.”
     
    They discovered Veleris’ message on the second day, printed upon one of the dried fish. Tiny black marks, slightly smeared, covered the yellowed meat like an old tattoo.
    “It’s a spell,” Gerta said.
    Danielle peered closer. The letters appeared to have been written in haste. “On a fish?”
    “To hide it from Bellum,” Talia guessed.
    “She writes that it’s an old charm used by giants before battle, to toughen the skin,” Gerta read. “She says it should protect us from Snow’s ice wasps. It’s fairy magic, but she believes the spell can be adjusted for human use.”
    “Can it?” Danielle asked. Snow had been able to cast fairy spells before, but she wasn’t certain about Gerta.
    “I think so. I’ll need time . . .”
    “You can read while we ride,” Talia said, snatching another fish from their supplies.
    Gerta didn’t appear to hear. She muttered to herself as she studied the spell, brows furrowed in a way that made her look like her sister.
    “Those wasps won’t be