The Snow Queen's Shadow

failed,” Danielle said. “And she’s seen what will happen to her if we don’t stop Snow.” She gestured to Noita, who remained slumped on the bench. “She needs us to succeed.”
    “Is that how you mean to rule Lorindar?” Talia asked. “Oh, sure, she tried to assassinate the queen, but that’s all right so long as she doesn’t do it again.”
    “Which is more important, punishing her for what she tried to do, or saving Jakob and Snow?” And Gerta, if they could.
    Danielle stomped through the cabin without waiting for an answer.
     
    Talia could feel the pounding of her horse’s blood, fear making it pulse faster than usual. Even a day after leaving Noita’s cabin, with Danielle doing her best to calm the beast and allow Talia to ride, its eyes were wide, and it twitched and shook its head as if wanting to toss her free. Talia had switched horses twice, simply to make sure they didn’t exhaust themselves through terror.
    “I could wear the cape for a time,” Gerta said, riding alongside.
    Talia grabbed the front of the cape, instinctively pulling it tighter. “I’m all right.”
    “Liar. I saw you scowling at Danielle when we left. The cape makes you tense. You’re always hunting.”
    “Better the hunter than the prey,” Talia said. “Danielle was right. Noita’s no threat anymore.” Though it wouldn’t have taken much time at all to snap the witch’s neck and fling her broken body to the ground.
    “Will the cape shield us if you take it off?” Gerta asked. “Tuck it away in your pack until we reach Kanustius.”
    Talia tried to keep her annoyance in check. Did Gerta really think she hadn’t thought of that? “The cape has no life of its own.”
    “So let me take a turn.” Gerta tossed her hair back, exaggerating the movement. “It doesn’t really match your complexion anyway.”
    Talia laughed. “All of your magic combined with the wolf’s temper? That’s a bad idea if ever I’ve heard one.”
    “You’re right, of course. Far better to let it continue fanning your temper until you lash out and kill one of us.” Gerta cocked her head. “Though you’re rather sexy when you smolder. It’s the eyes.”
    Talia flushed. “Stop that.”
    “Make me.” Gerta’s brows wagged, but then she sighed and looked away. “I’m sorry. I only thought, since the cape hid you from Noita’s visions . . . maybe if I were wearing it, that would explain why I saw nothing of my own future.”
    Her matter-of-fact tone made Talia flinch. “Noita couldn’t see me, but she saw the rest of us. The cape might hide you, but from what Noita said, you still should have seen something .”
    “So now you take Noita’s word?” Gerta snapped. “When did you become so trusting?”
    “Gerta—”
    “Or is it just me you don’t trust?”
    Talia stared heavenward. “Can you blame me? You showed up in the most secure room of the palace—”
    “Naked,” Gerta added, her anger vanishing as quickly as it had come.
    “Yes, naked.” Talia scowled. “You were conjured by Snow White, who then kidnapped the prince and set off to conquer a nation. We don’t know how you were made, or to what end. Would you trust you?”
    “I think so,” Gerta said slowly. “I have a very trustworthy face.”
    Gerta’s expression was so serious Talia couldn’t help but laugh again. She nudged her horse sideways, grabbed a handful of snow from a low-hanging pine branch, and flung it at Gerta. Gerta ducked, grinning.
    Unbidden, Talia found herself thinking back to those first weeks in Lorindar, and her growing awkwardness and confusion around Snow White. Talia had been young, lost, and furious with the world, but when Snow smiled at her, all of that had melted away.
    “What do you think will happen to me if Snow dies?” Gerta asked softly.
    Talia’s shoulders tightened. “She’s not going to—”
    “You don’t know that.” Gerta nudged her horse ahead, squeezing through a narrow spot on the path where the trees crowded together. “We’re connected. Does that mean whatever happens to her will happen to me as well? Or can I survive alone, independent of my sister?”
    “I’ve never understood magic,” Talia said, troubled by the direction of Gerta’s thoughts. How far would she go to protect herself? “What do you know of King Laurence?”
    Gerta gave her an amused look, as if she knew exactly what Talia was doing. But she played along with the change of topic. “He was young when we met him.