The Snow Queen's Shadow

the queen—”
    “Yes, yes.” He waved a hand, sounding bored. “So tell me, Laurence. Who will protect you now that you’ve done the same?”
    Laurence frowned. “What are you talking about?”
    The page sighed. “I thought about using one of your Stormcrows, but this was more poetic. I wonder what thoughts ran through your wife’s mind at the end. Did she know it was your order that put the knife to her throat, believing she was me?”
    “Odelia.” Laurence paled. The scepter dropped to the floor.
    The page used that moment to fling two ice wasps. One of the Stormcrows gestured, and the first wasp slammed into the wall. Talia jumped high, bringing her cape around to intercept the second. She crushed it through the cape, then ripped her zaraq whip from her belt. The thin, weighted line snapped out, catching the boy’s wrist. She tugged hard, dragging him to the floor. Before he could rise, Talia was on top of him, lashing his wrists together.
    “He’s lying.” Danielle grabbed Laurence by the arm. “Queen Odelia is safe. Whoever was executed, they were escorted into the palace as a prisoner. It was someone Snow found before her wasps ever entered these walls.”
    Laurence straightened and pulled away. “Of course. Forgive me.” He picked up his scepter and touched it to the wall. His visage tightened. “They still haven’t found her, or my children.”
    “ They haven’t . . .” The boy’s laugh was so much like Snow’s own it raised bumps on Talia’s skin. “Think of your family as your guards fight their way through the palace, never knowing if the enemy they cut down is a nameless servant or your own flesh and blood.”
    “Where are you, Snow?” Danielle asked.
    He ignored the question. “The same holds for you, Danielle. I could be Jakob for all you know. Think well before you use that glass blade.”
    “You’re not Jakob.” Talia hauled the boy upright.
    “Are you willing to wager the prince’s life?” he asked.
    Talia hesitated. The wolf’s senses could pierce most illusions with ease, but this was no illusion. King Laurence’s own Stormcrows hadn’t seen through Snow’s magic.
    Danielle stepped closer, and her glass sword flicked out to cut the boy’s arm. “This blade would never harm my son.”
    It was all the confirmation Talia needed. She tossed him to the ground at the Stormcrows’ feet. “Your Majesty, I can take us to the queen and your children, no matter where they’ve gone. But only if you promise to spare Snow’s life. She must be given to Danielle and Lorindar.”
    Laurence started to shake his head.
    “She’s our friend,” said Danielle. “Would you be so quick to order Odelia’s death? We’ve no time to negotiate, Laurence.”
    “If there is a way to spare her life, I will.”
    Talia’s teeth ground together. It was the best they were going to get. “I’ll need something of theirs. Preferably something which carries their scents.”
     
    They had made it halfway to the library when one of Laurence’s guards arrived carrying items from the king’s wife and children: an old wig, a pair of shoes, and a frayed blanket. The Stormcrows continued to pressure Laurence to leave, but he refused to abandon his family.
    Talia set each of the items on the floor and unfastened her cape. He had a point. If he fled, the possessed queen would be in an excellent position to seize power.
    “You’re sure this will work?” asked Danielle.
    “I should be able to track them to wherever they were taken. If the demon transformed them, the trail will lead me to the place it happens. I’ll be able to smell the magic and pick up the scent of their new forms.” She flipped the cape about and pulled it tight. “Probably.”
    The skin rippled to life, clinging to her body as it twisted and crushed her into a new shape. She dropped to the floor, holding her breath as the wolf swallowed her.
    “Be careful.” Danielle’s lips hadn’t moved.
    With the wolf’s senses, Talia could hear the sounds of fighting throughout the palace. Thunder cracked in the air, far too close for her liking. Yells and screams surrounded her, and the burning tang of dueling magic suffused her nose.
    Her blood pulsed faster as the wolf urged her to sprint toward the closest battle and throw herself upon her enemies. Instead, she forced herself to take a single step forward, sniffing each item in turn. The blanket’s scent was the strongest, smelling of sweat and saliva. The shoes were