The Snow Queen's Shadow

there’s nothing to stop the Stormcrows from killing me as I emerge on the other side.”
    A change in the tenor of the crowd warned her. Talia had grown accustomed to the subdued murmurs, the muttered complaints, the weeping of children and the forced comfort of their parents and caretakers. The voices grew louder, more fearful behind her. Talia turned and swore.
    The four Stormcrows had spread out. Each wielded a wooden rod that glittered blue in the firelight. As Talia watched, one Stormcrow absently clubbed a man on the face. He staggered back, and blood began to well from the cuts the Stormcrow’s weapon had left.
    “The clubs are coated in glass dust from Snow’s mirror,” Gerta said. “Back in Lorindar, it took time for the demon to control its victims. Now it’s strong enough to do it almost instantly.”
    People were screaming now, pushing one another to try to get away. The Stormcrows moved without haste, striking everyone in their path. Already the first man infected had succumbed to the demon’s power. He seized a woman by the arm and dragged her toward the Stormcrows.
    The crowd surged past, trying to escape. Some pounded the doors of the tower. Others fled through the streets.
    “Fine,” snapped Talia. “You storm the tower. Find a way to open that gate and get out of here.” She plucked the chisel from Danielle’s hand. “I’ll need this.”
    “What about you?” asked Gerta.
    Talia squeezed past a man bent double under the weight of the belongings strapped to his back. “I’m going to try to slow them down. Go!”
    The four Stormcrows spied her at once, and began pushing through the crowd toward her. A man with a bloody hand grabbed her shoulder. She punched him in the nose, but the pain didn’t seem to affect him. With a curse, she seized his finger and twisted, snapping bone to make him release her.
    She shoved her way into an alley between a tavern and some sort of clothing shop. Chunks of ice dropped onto the street, her only warning before a body leaped from the roof to land on top of her. She rolled with the impact, coming up on top of her attacker, a heavyset, gray-haired woman who looked like she should be bouncing grandchildren on her knee.
    Once again, pain was no deterrent. Talia had to dislocate the woman’s shoulder to free herself, and by then more of the demon’s slaves were following her into the alley. She could almost hear Snow teasing her over yet another ill-thought-out plan.
    A cold shadow swooped past her head. The darkling dropped to the ground and strode toward her pursuers. Talia glanced back to see hands seize the darkling’s arms. Moments later, those hands began to wither, fingers drying and crumbling to dust. “Don’t kill them if you can help it!”
    She tried the servant’s entrance to the tavern, but it was locked and barred. Behind her, there was a flash of light. Squinting through her fingers, Talia could just make out one of the Stormcrows driving the darkling back. Where were the other three? Hopefully, they had spread out to trap her instead of chasing Gerta and Danielle.
    She hurried into the next street, where she deliberately crashed into a man wearing a heavy cloak of bear fur. This was no demon slave. He shouted and fought as Talia yanked his cloak free.
    From the corner of her eye, Talia spotted the darkling coming up behind her. She bared her teeth. “You can give me the cloak, or you can take it up with my fairy friend.”
    The man paled.
    “Sorry,” Talia said as she flung the cloak over her shoulders. She joined the fleeing crowd, adjusting her posture to try to make herself appear shorter and broader of shoulder. To the darkling, she said, “Get to Danielle and Gerta. Keep them safe.”
    And then she waited, allowing herself only furtive glances over her shoulder as the Stormcrow and his slaves spread into the street, searching for her. She spied a second Stormcrow a block down.
    The screaming was worse now. People pressed together with no regard for safety. Few even knew what they were running from. Their panic was infectious. Talia’s heart pounded faster, and her stomach tightened. Sweat dripped into her eyes. She fought the need to push through the crowd and escape.
    Instead, she stayed at the back, feigning weakness. A hand closed around her arm, spinning her roughly around. She allowed herself to fall to her knees, keeping her hood over her face as she watched the feet around her until she spied black polished boots