The Snow Queen's Shadow

approaching and heard the rippling jingle of Stormcrow armor. Two men hauled her to her feet.
    She slammed the butt of her chisel into the center of one man’s forehead. The other she elbowed in the throat. The Stormcrow raised his weapon high, blood dripping from the glass dusting the wood.
    Talia dropped her chisel and stepped close, one hand catching the Stormcrow’s wrist, the other clamping around his elbow. She kept moving, taking him off-balance and twisting the weapon from his hand. A sharp blow to the back of his neck dropped him to the street. She crouched long enough to seize the athame from his belt with her other hand.
    Two more Stormcrows ran toward her. A look back showed the third coming from behind. They weren’t alone.
    “Fine,” Talia muttered to Snow’s imagined teasing. “You’re right. This was a stupid plan.”
    She ran back through the alley, lashing out with knife and club to clear her way through the demon’s slaves. Possessed or not, the crowd’s reflexes were still human, and there weren’t enough to simply overpower and smother her. Not yet, at least. She sacrificed the cloak and lost a bit of hair when someone grabbed it, but she made it through.
    The instant she emerged onto the street, she felt the change. The people here were free, and surged toward the gates. The walls still burned, but the gate itself was open. “Thank you, Danielle!”
    She jumped onto a cart, ignoring the protests of its owners. She glanced behind. The Stormcrows weren’t close enough to catch her.
    The closest pulled a gold-tipped rod and pointed it at her. There was a heavy impact on her shoulder, but she saw nothing. Instead, the spell seemed to splatter over her body. It felt . . . sticky , like someone had bathed Talia’s skin in molasses.
    Talia grabbed her knife. Every movement tugged her skin, slowing her movements. With the wolfskin, she could have easily torn through the enchantment. Without it . . . she clenched her jaw, pulling back to throw even as the Stormcrow’s spell threatened to tear the skin from her bones.
    A dog snarled and seized the Stormcrow’s leg in his teeth. A rat scurried through the crowd to join him.
    “I told you to get to the tower,” she yelled.
    “Is that what you said?” Danielle asked innocently. “I’m sorry, I must have misheard.” She looked skyward, and a pair of blackbirds swooped down to harass another Stormcrow.
    “Don’t move,” ordered Gerta as she scrambled onto the cart. “The more you struggle, the faster you’ll be torn apart.”
    A donkey brayed and dragged its wagon across the road, barreling toward the Stormcrows.
    “Hurry,” said Danielle.
    Gerta squinted, then jabbed her thumb into Talia’s shoulder deep enough to bruise. She repeated a hasty chant, then spun and pressed her thumb to the side of the wagon.
    The pain vanished. Talia flung her club, catching the first Stormcrow in the stomach. She grabbed Gerta by the arm and jumped down.
    They had gone only a short distance when the wagon creaked and splintered behind them.
    “I couldn’t break the spell, so I had to transfer it. That’s what would have happened to you.” Gerta looked over her shoulder at the wreckage of the wagon. It had been reduced to kindling. “It’s not a nice spell.”
    Talia swallowed and grabbed Danielle and Gerta by the hands. She had already begun to sweat from the heat of the walls. “How did you get the gates open?”
    “The people in the towers haven’t been infected yet,” Danielle said. “So we told them the truth. It took some persuasion, but their spells confirmed our words.”
    “What truth?” Talia asked.
    Gerta’s voice hardened. “That Kanustius has fallen.”

CHAPTER 17

    T HE LAKE WAS THE CLOSEST THING TO beauty Snow had seen since the demon showed her the world as it truly was. With her followers waiting silently at the shore, the lake was lifeless and frozen and perfect. “What do you think of your new home, Jakob?”
    Beside her, Prince Jakob shivered and plopped down to sit on the ice. He had spoken less and less of late, but for the first time in more than a day, a spark of interest lit his eyes. He brushed off a spot on the ice and examined his reflection. “It’s a mirror.”
    “Very good.” She conjured a gust of wind to clear a larger patch. “From the outside, Allesandria appears strong. These people have warred with humans and fairies alike, defeating all who challenged their borders. When Allesandria