The Snow Queen's Shadow

from the water, hidden by a thick grove of pines. The smell of magic made Talia’s nose wrinkle. It smelled like old perfume, cloying and stale.
    Snow dragged her sister down to crouch behind a fallen tree. Following their gazes, Talia could just make out a shadowy figure approaching the cabin door. Gerta’s memory of Rose Curtana was tall and imposing, her body held straight as steel, her chin tilted upward.
    Snow waited until her mother went inside, then tugged Gerta’s hand. “Come on, let’s go around back. Maybe there’s a window.”
    Gerta began to tremble. “We should leave.”
    “Don’t be such a polatto.”
    “Polatto?” Danielle whispered.
    “Morovan slang for a coward,” said Talia. “It means tail-flasher, after the deer who run away at the slightest sound.”
    Gerta yanked her hand away. “I don’t want to see what’s back there.”
    “I’m going.” Snow stood and stepped out from the trees.
    Gerta’s voice rose. “Snow, please!”
    Talia grabbed Gerta by the shoulder. “It’s just a memory.” Gerta stared through her, her eyes round. “Gerta, you’ve found it. You can end the spell.”
    Gerta shrieked. Talia slapped a palm over her mouth. The illusory Snow White had already vanished behind the cabin.
    Danielle caught Gerta’s arms. “Gerta, it’s us.”
    “Wrap the edge of my cape around her,” Talia snapped.
    Danielle did so, and the worst of Gerta’s trembling started to die as the cape’s magic shielded her from her own illusions. Gerta spun, burying her face in Talia’s shoulder.
    “I’m sorry,” Gerta said.
    Talia watched the cabin, but the door hadn’t opened. If Noita was still here, hopefully she hadn’t heard Gerta’s aborted scream.
    “What happened?” asked Danielle, her voice gentle.
    “We snuck around to the back, making our way to Noita’s garden.” The worst of the panic had faded, but Gerta clung to Talia like a child woken from a nightmare. “There were three bodies, laid out in shallow graves. I thought Mother was helping Noita to bury them, but—” Another shudder cut off the rest of her words.
    “You’re safe,” Danielle said. “You found the cabin.”
    Gerta pulled away. “I’m sorry.” She turned toward the cabin. “I wanted to run away, but Snow stayed. She watched . . . we both did.”
    A growl built in Talia’s chest. She yanked her sword from her belt and strode into the clearing. There was no light through the windows, nor smoke from the chimney. The steeply angled roof came almost to the ground. Dirt and frost obscured most of the color.
    Brown ivy strangled the knee-high stumps that dotted the small yard. A pair of skeletal oaks, each an arm’s length in diameter, stood to either side of the door.
    “Are you certain this witch is still alive?” Talia asked.
    “Even if she’s not, there might be something inside that can help us,” Danielle said. “She was a friend of Rose Curtana, after all.”
    The door creaked open. Talia stepped closer, sword ready.
    The woman who emerged appeared to be in worse shape than her home. Layers of clothes and quilted blankets made her look like a shambling pile of mismatched laundry. Dirty laundry. Tangled white hair hung past her shoulders. Her face sagged loosely on her skull. Red-stained fingers clutched a thick wooden crutch as she limped into the yard. Talia could smell her magic from here, like moldy leaves in late autumn.
    “Ermillina Curtana,” she breathed, studying Gerta as though she were a painter’s masterpiece. “Never imagined I’d see you again. What have you done to your hair, child?”
    Gerta glanced at Talia as if for reassurance before answering. “Ermillina is my sister.”
    “You’d trespass on my land and lie to my face?” Noita clucked her tongue as she examined Gerta, who flinched. “For a princess, you’ve no manners whatsoever. I pulled you from your mother’s loins, girl. These hands cut the cord and wiped you down. I know you.”
    “Gerta’s telling the truth,” said Talia.
    Gerta stepped closer to Talia. “My name is Rose Gertrude Curtana. I am Snow’s sister. Sort of.”
    “The old queen had only the one child. Someone lied to you about your parentage, girl. Go home. There’s nothing for you here.”
    “Did my mother bring you the bodies for your garden?” Gerta was hiding her fear the best she could, though Talia could hear the faint quaver in her voice. “Did she kill them for you, or did you cut their throats before laying