The Snow Queen's Shadow

beneath Armand’s skin. “Is that it?”
    Gerta took the pearl from the cup and pressed it onto the lump with her thumb. “She’s trying to break it. I can encase one sliver, but if it fragments further . . .”
    Armand’s eyes opened. Talia jumped forward, catching his arm and pinning it to the altar. Danielle did the same on the other side, using her full weight to keep him from reaching Gerta. He was so strong, his fingers pinching and ripping the skin of Danielle’s arm as he struggled to break free. He kicked at Isaac, who stepped out of the way without interrupting his chant.
    Isaac gestured with one hand, and Armand fell back, though he remained awake.
    “I’ve almost got it,” said Gerta.
    Armand’s eyes narrowed, and his lips drew together in a smile.
    “Be careful,” Danielle warned.
    The cracking sound was so quiet Danielle almost missed it. Gerta screamed and yanked her thumb back. The pearl had split in two, and blood beaded from the center of Armand’s chest.
    Isaac caught Gerta’s wrist and reached out with his other hand. “Knife!”
    Talia slapped a dagger into his hand. Isaac pressed the blade to Gerta’s thumb and cut a shallow line. Gerta shrieked again, but didn’t fight. Instead, she grabbed the dagger and pushed it deeper.
    “The cup,” Gerta said.
    Danielle grabbed the cup from the altar. Blood dripped from Gerta’s thumb, along with a sparkle of glass no larger than a grain of sand. “Is that—?”
    “She broke the splinter in two.” Gerta stuck her bloody thumb into her mouth. Her whole body was shaking. “She tried to shove the other piece into me.”
    As the pounding of Danielle’s heart slowly calmed, she noticed another sound: Armand, laughing softly to himself.
    “I could feel her reaching for me,” said Gerta. “Like her magic was a weed, digging its roots into my veins. If Father Isaac hadn’t cut it free, she would have taken me as well. I’m sorry.” Gerta wiped her face as she turned to Talia. Isaac grabbed a cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders. “She was surprised. She wasn’t expecting anyone to try to remove one of the slivers, but she’ll be prepared now. She’ll be watching for me to try again.”
    Isaac set the cup and splinter onto a small shelf, whispering a quick blessing over them both before returning to the prince. He placed a hand on Armand’s chest and began to pray.
    “Not even our mother could do such magic,” Gerta whispered. “Snow ripped through Isaac’s protections, threw off my spells, all through such a tiny fragment of glass.”
    “You’re still here,” said Talia. “That’s what matters. We’ll find another way.”
    Armand laughed again. A thin line of blood dripped down his stomach, staining the waist of his trousers. “Do you tell such lies to comfort yourself, Talia? Or are you foolish enough to believe them?”
    Danielle stepped away from the altar. Armand hadn’t moved since that one aborted attempt to reach Gerta. “Father, will your magic hold him?”
    “His body,” Isaac said, stepping away from the altar. “For now.”
    Danielle gestured for the others to follow as she strode to the far side of the chapel. In a low voice, she said, “Thank you for trying, Gerta.”
    Gerta managed a crooked smile. “So now do you trust me?”
    Gerta might be a stranger, but she spoke with weary familiarity, so much like Snow that Danielle couldn’t help but smile in return. “It’s a start.”
    “Will Snow come after you?” Talia asked.
    “I don’t think so.” Gerta checked her thumb. Blood welled from the cut, and she wrapped it in the hem of her cloak. “She hid me from herself, ripping the memory from her own mind to protect me from the demon. She knows someone tried to free Armand, but she doesn’t know who I am.”
    Danielle turned away. What had Snow intended for Gerta? Gerta wasn’t strong enough to fight a demon. Was she a merely a way for Snow to save some part of herself?
    “What now?” asked Talia. “Half the palace is out hunting for Snow and the prince, but we don’t know where she intends to go next.”
    “She’s at sea,” said Gerta.
    They turned to face her.
    “As Snow tried to take me, I . . . I think I glimpsed her as well. Her whereabouts and her thoughts. Like a nightmare, trying to swallow me into darkness, but I saw water, and I felt the shift of the deck.”
    “She’s going home,” whispered Talia. “To Allesandria.”
    “How do you know?” asked