The Snow Queen's Shadow

Gerta.
    “She spoke of the pain of leaving your home. Of surrendering your birthright.” Talia stared at the floor. “‘Nobody forced you to flee, to turn your back on your throne.’ She was talking about me, but . . .”
    “But herself as well,” Danielle finished. “If the winds are favorable, we might be able to intercept her before she reaches Allesandria.”
    “Do you know how to stop a demon?” asked Gerta. “She took your son and swept through the palace as though neither guards nor wards even existed.”
    “Accounts of such creatures are rare,” Isaac said, hooking his thumbs through his necklace as he paced. “The church teaches that demons are beasts of Hell. By their nature, they spread pain and chaos, and they do not stop until they are destroyed or returned to Hell.”
    “There are theories that Hell is simply another world,” Gerta said. “Albeit one less hospitable to beings such as ourselves.”
    “Perhaps.” Isaac turned to Danielle. “Like the devils of old, this one works through lies and deception. It seeks not to control Snow, but to corrupt her.”
    “Snow’s mother bound it into the mirror,” said Danielle. “If we could do the same—”
    “Once trapped, we could find a way to destroy it!” Gerta nodded eagerly. “There was a witch named Noita. She lived by the river near the winter palace in Kanustius. My mother went to her on occasion, when she required assistance with certain rituals.”
    “Would she know how your mother controlled this demon?” asked Danielle.
    “She might. Not even my mother could have worked such magic alone.”
    “We’ll take the Phillipa ,” said Danielle. “She’s the fastest ship in the Lorindar navy. If we can intercept Snow before she reaches Allesandria, we’ll try to rescue Jakob. If not, we find Noita.”
    “How do you plan to steal Jakob away from her?” Talia demanded. “She took Jakob from the heart of the palace. When I faced her, I barely escaped with my soul intact.”
    “So don’t face her,” Danielle snapped. “While we engage with Snow, you sneak onto her ship and find my son. Snow might be too powerful for us to stop, but you’ve had no trouble dealing with her other victims.”
    Unspoken between them was the fact that they had no idea how to save Snow herself. Talia dug her nails into her palms, but nodded once. “The Phillipa was Bea’s ship. Captain Hephyra’s oath was to her, not to Lorindar. With the queen dead, she might already have left.”
    “Not yet.” Danielle was already hurrying toward the door. “Her crew were men of Lorindar. She would need time to raise a new one. Pack your things. We leave at high tide today.”
     
    Talia found Danielle in her quarters a short time later, stuffing clothes into a brass-studded carriage trunk. It was a measure of Danielle’s distress that she wasn’t bothering to fold them.
    Talia coughed softly so as not to startle her. “I’ve asked the kitchen to search for some of that tea mix Snow used to make, to help your seasickness.”
    “Thank you.” Danielle stifled a yawn as she shoved a jacket and a pair of boots into the trunk, followed by a thick brown cloak.
    Talia glanced at the second trunk sitting beside the bed. “Armand?”
    Danielle’s shoulders tensed. “Still in the chapel. Father Isaac will continue to search for ways to free him from the demon’s influence.”
    Talia pressed the door shut behind her. “When I faced Snow, the things the demon said . . . you can’t parry words. To hear those taunts from the one you love lodges the barbs deeper.”
    Danielle bowed her head. “Snow makes for Allesandria because, deep within her heart, some part of her longs to return home, to regain those dreams. That longing is real. What does that say of Armand’s heart? Deep down, did he choose me not for love, but for simplicity? Because I was safe ?”
    “Perhaps some part of him did.” Talia shrugged. “Just as a part of you wanted him because he could help you escape your stepmother and stepsisters.”
    “I love him,” Danielle insisted, turning away from the trunk.
    “I know.” Talia leaned against the doorframe, arms folded. “You love him now. What was it you loved that first night, when you knew nothing but his name, his looks, and the fact that he danced like a drunken ox?”
    A smile tugged briefly at her lips. “He wasn’t that bad.”
    “You should have seen him when he was learning. He nearly crippled three of his mother’s