The Snow Queen's Shadow

the dais and pushed herself to her feet. As Snow rose, Talia kicked the sword from her hand and swung the chain like a whip, looping it around Snow’s neck. Talia grabbed the other end and pulled tight, crossing the links to form a circle that dug into the ice protecting Snow’s throat.
    Icy claws bloodied Talia’s forearms. The demon was too strong, pushing herself up even as Talia tried to hold her. Talia kicked the back of Snow’s knees, trying to keep her off-balance.
    Snow lurched backward, slamming them both onto the dais. From the sharp pain in Talia’s side, the impact had either bruised or broken a rib. She twisted the rope handles together, clutching them in one hand, and drew her knife.
    “Go ahead,” Snow said, her voice harsh. “Murder the woman you love. You’ll be killing Gerta as well. How long will you survive with those deaths upon your heart?”
    In the edge of her vision, Talia saw more of the white monsters enter the room. She couldn’t feel her fingers anymore. Blood covered her arms, dripping toward her hands.
    Snow’s elbow cracked the back of Talia’s hand, and the knife fell away. Snow bucked, and it was all Talia could do to hold on to the chain.
    She could hear Danielle shouting to her son, telling him she was sorry. Sorry for what, Talia didn’t know. Gerta lay unmoving on the ice, ignored by the creatures that spread to surround the throne. Talia pulled harder, but the armor kept the links from cutting off Snow’s breath.
    And then Danielle was there, clutching her sword in both hands. Blood trickled down the edge, though Talia hadn’t seen her stab anyone with it. Perhaps Danielle had used it against one of the monsters.
    No . . . it wasn’t their blood. It was Jakob’s blood. Fairy blood. Jakob was huddled behind the throne, and his left hand was bleeding.
    Snow saw, too, and she stopped struggling. When she spoke next, she sounded almost like herself. “Danielle. You were my friend.”
    “I always will be.” Danielle raised the sword.
    Talia buried her face in Snow’s hair. She could feel the impact as Danielle drove the sword into Snow’s side. Snow grunted. Her armor cracked and began to fall away.
    Gerta screamed. Talia could see her clutching her side.
    “Gerta could still live,” Snow wheezed. “Release the chain. I give you my word Gerta will survive.”
    “Don’t let go,” Gerta yelled.
    Danielle had turned to face Snow’s creatures. She held her sword in one hand, and picked up Snow’s ice blade with her other. Danielle wasn’t the best student, but her years of practice with Talia had paid off. Despite the odds, Danielle stood in a low, balanced stance, her body relaxed. It wouldn’t be enough, but Talia had no doubt she would take several of the creatures with her.
    They didn’t attack. Over the pounding of her blood, Talia made out the sound of Gerta chanting a spell. Her voice was weak but determined.
    “I know what you left behind, Talia,” Snow whispered. “Your throne. Your lover. Your children. You could have them all back again.”
    “You wouldn’t want them,” said Danielle. “You’d look upon your home and see only ugliness. Your children would be repulsive to your sight.”
    “Shut up. Both of you.” Talia closed her eyes. Snow’s hair was damp with sweat and melted ice. Her body was so cold, making Talia want to pull her closer, to share her own warmth.
    “Took you long enough to get here.”
    Talia’s eyes snapped open. The voice was Snow’s, but without the bitter edge of the demon. It had come from within the ice. In the blood-smeared reflection, she saw herself clutching the necklace around Snow White’s throat, but in that reflection Snow had turned around to face her, a weary smile on her face.
    “Snow?” Talia whispered.
    “I tried, Talia. As soon as the mirror cracked, I felt it reaching for me. I realized what my mother had done. I tried to fight it—”
    “It’s not your fault.” Talia’s voice broke. A part of her wondered if this was the demon’s doing, a trick to get her to release the chain. If so, she didn’t care.
    “It is.” Snow’s smile fell. “I tried to cheat death. I couldn’t let go of Beatrice. I’m sorry, Talia.”
    “Beatrice? What does—” Talia frowned, remembering Snow’s behavior after Bea’s death. Snow had created Gerta, a fully formed woman, from nothingness. It would have taken months to prepare such a spell . . . a spell to create a new body, one which could