The Snow Queen's Shadow

the demon’s only protection,” Talia said.
    “I know.” Danielle finished packing snow into a small pot and handed it to Gerta, who barely even looked up as she used her magic to melt it into drinking water. “I’ve been thinking about that.”
    “And?” Talia asked.
    Danielle rubbed her shoulders, where the straps of her pack had dug into the muscle. “I’m still thinking,” she admitted.
    “Think harder.”
    She did, testing one plan after another in her mind and discarding them all. By the time they reached Snow’s palace toward evening of the second day, Danielle could see only one way to get them inside. But the cost made her ill.
    The woods ended at the shore of a vast, frozen lake, covered in ankle-deep snow. Toward the center of the lake stood the palace Danielle had seen in her vision, like a miniature mountain range of ice. Crystalline towers stretched skyward, illuminated from within by green and blue lights. Drifts of snow buried much of the lower part of the palace.
    They waited while Gerta read the protective spell Veleris had prepared. Gerta clutched the dried fish in her hands, mumbling to herself and touching her forehead. She repeated the gesture with the others, chanting in a language Danielle didn’t recognize.
    “If you turn me into a troll, I swear to the gods I’ll eat you,” said Talia.
    Gerta’s lips quirked as she continued her spell, reaching for Danielle. Danielle’s face tightened at Gerta’s touch. Her skin felt warm and dry, as if she had spent too much time in the sun. When she flexed her arms, there was a stiffness in her skin that reminded her of the heavily starched gowns that had been so popular last season.
    Talia pulled out her knife and dragged the edge over her thumb. The blade failed to break the skin. “Not bad.”
    “It’s no substitute for armor,” Gerta warned. “A strong sword thrust will kill you, but we should be protected from glancing blows and smaller stings.” She rubbed a thumb over the writing on the dried fish, then shrugged and took a bite. “Tastes like magic.”
    The lake offered no cover. Danielle saw neither guards nor windows, but she had no doubt Snow was watching. “Night should help—”
    “Not against Snow. The entire lake serves as her mirror. The moment we step out . . .” Gerta pointed toward the palace. “There are creatures in the drifts. So cold they’re barely alive.”
    “Prisoners?” asked Talia.
    “I don’t think so.” Gerta squinted through the trees.
    Danielle fought to control her breathing. Jakob was there, beyond those drifted walls. Close enough he might hear her voice if she shouted. “It doesn’t matter.”
    Gerta’s magic wasn’t strong enough to overpower Snow. The darkling wouldn’t be able to conceal them either, not here. Snow had made this place her new home. The moment they stepped onto the ice, she would know.
    “How do we get inside?” asked Talia. “There are no doors.”
    “She doesn’t need them,” said Gerta. “The ice responds to her will. We’ll have to scale the outer wall or break through.”
    Danielle stepped down to the shore. The lake’s edge had frozen into a lacy ribbon of frost that crunched beneath her feet.
    The drifts at the base of the palace wall shivered. Large shapes stepped free. Most were humanoid, clothed in fur and frost and ice. Others walked on all fours, though they were unlike any beasts Danielle had ever seen. At this distance, it was difficult to make out the details. She spotted a white winged serpent twice as high as a man. An animal that appeared a cross between dog and bull shook snow from its spine-covered hide. Every one of the creatures was white, as though all color had been bleached from their bodies.
    “I estimate close to a hundred,” said Talia, her tone calm and calculating.
    “That’s just from the front section of the palace,” Gerta pointed out. “She could have five times their number waiting in the rest of the drifts.”
    “Welcome, Danielle.” Snow’s voice boomed over the lake. “Have you no words of greeting for your loyal crew, the men who fought so briefly but valiantly to protect the Phillipa ?”
    Danielle swallowed. “Gerta?”
    “She’s telling the truth.” Gerta was paler than usual. “They’re human. Or they used to be.”
    These were men Danielle had sailed with. Men she had joked with and even fought beside, more than a year ago. “Are you strong enough to undo—”
    “I’m sorry.” Gerta