That distraction was enough for the darkling to seize the troll’s other arm. Ice and fur fell away, and the flesh beneath withered. The troll roared, but the darkling clung tight. Dust fell from its fingers, and the limb dropped away. There was no blood.
The darkling sprang, one arm wrapping around the troll’s head, the other grabbing Talia’s dagger, still lodged in the troll’s neck. Talia grimaced as the darkling yanked the knife free and slashed the troll’s throat.
“Are you all right?” Danielle asked.
Talia nodded, watching the darkling as it tossed the knife to the ground and backed away. It had fought as fiercely as a wild beast, but that final blow had been artistic in its precision.
Gerta had dropped to one knee, brushing snow from the floor to reveal the frozen surface of the lake. The ice was clear as glass, showing only blackness below, and reflecting the tall, curved hallway around them. Green and blue light flickered within the walls, like slow flames trapped in the ice.
Gerta wiped away more snow. White cracks were spread through the ice in a pattern too regular to be natural. Like tiles, if every tile were a plate-sized puzzle piece, no two identical. “Something’s wrong.”
“You don’t say,” Talia muttered.
“The mirror… it’s tainted.” She glanced back at the wall. “When we entered the palace, we passed into a magical circle.”
That couldn’t be good. “What kind of circle?” asked Talia.
“A line of blood, traced just below the surface of the ice. I think it’s for a summoning.”
“Remember what she said back in Kanustius,” Danielle said, her voice tight. “She doesn’t mean to rule Allesandria. She means to destroy it.”
A summoning circle the size of a palace. Just like Snow’s mother had used. “Can one demon summon others?”
“I’m not sure. With Snow’s help…” Gerta trailed off.
“It’s a mirror.” Talia crouched beside her. “Snow could always shatter her mirrors at will. Can’t you do the same to this? Crack the circle enough to disrupt its power?”
“But not enough to drop us all into the lake, please,” Danielle added.
“Mirror, mirror, cold and bleak-” But even as Gerta spoke, frost spread over the ice. She swore and yanked her hand away. “It’s Snow’s mirror, not mine. The mirror, the traps, the entire palace is attuned to her.” She gave a weak smile. “In a way, it’s comforting. The fact that the palace rejects my control proves I was more than just a piece of my sister. That I was my own person.”
Talia’s jaw tensed at the word “was.” She straightened. “Stay behind me. There will be other traps.”
“We don’t have the time.” Gerta extended a hand to Talia. “I can get us through.”
“How?” Talia asked.
“Snow and the demon have been trying to reclaim me ever since she learned what I was. It’s time to let her.”
“No.” The word slipped out before Talia could stop it. Gerta had made her choice back in the fairy mines, but this was too soon. There had to be another way.
Gerta took her hand. “I’ll hold on as long as I can.” The tightness of Gerta’s grip and the cold sweat of her palm belied her calm tone. “Hopefully, as she starts to pull me back into herself, it will be enough to make the palace accept me. I should be able to control it for a short time, before I lose myself to her.”
Talia glanced down the hallway. “How long?”
“That’s hard to say.” Gerta managed a halfhearted smile. “I’ve never done this before.”
It was the kind of thing Snow would have said, only Snow would have hidden her fear better. Talia blinked. “Fight it.”
“Snow tried to fight the demon, too,” Gerta said, her fingers squeezing Talia’s palm. “She couldn’t-”
“Snow was alone when this thing took her. You’re not. Listen to my voice. Stay with us.”
“She’s always been stronger.” Gerta smiled, her eyes momentarily lost in memories. “I’m ready.”
You’re all I have left of her. Talia held her tongue, knowing the words would only hurt.
Gerta began to whisper.
“What are you doing?” asked Danielle.
“Removing Veleris’ spell on myself.” She knelt and slid her fingers along one of the cracks in the ice. Blood welled from her fingertips. For an instant, Talia spotted a glint of ice in the cut, and then it was gone. Gerta’s body tightened, and she squeezed Talia’s hand hard enough to bruise. “She’s so strong.”
“So are you,” said Talia.
Gerta clung to Talia’s arm as though she would fall without support. “It’s like balancing on the edge of a cliff, trying to lean out without falling.”
“I’ve got you,” said Talia.
“So does she.” Gerta shuddered. “This way. Quickly.”
Talia helped her down the hallway into a small, circular room. Coffins of ice were laid out in a circle. Danielle rubbed her hand on the closest, clearing the frost.
“Members of the Nobles’ Circle,” said Gerta, her voice strained. “Dead. She used their blood to form the circle.”
Gerta started across the room, but bumped into one of the coffins. “You’ll need to help me, Talia. One of the mirror shards is in her eye. It blinds me. I see what she sees. I can feel her. Them. Snow and the demon both tugging me toward them.”
Danielle peered into the far hall. “It looks clear.”
“It’s not,” said Gerta. “The floor thins here so she can drop unwanted visitors into the lake. But I can get us through. The palace recognizes me now.”
Meaning Gerta was fading. Talia held her arm, helping her through the doorway. The air was colder here, making her shiver even through the heavy furs.
Gerta stumbled. “It feels like she’s trying to drown me.”
“Stay with us.” Talia began to sing an old Arathean song about a queen’s journey into the desert to rescue her lover from a deev. She kept her voice low, pitched for Gerta’s ears alone.
“I thought… you hated to sing.”
“I do.” Talia gave a gentle pull, guiding Gerta onward. “Does it help?”
“It’s beautiful.”
One tortured step at a time, they made their way down the hallway. Three more times Gerta stopped, and each time Talia feared they had lost her. If the demon took Gerta now, it could attack them all through her, and everything they had done would be for nothing. But each time, Gerta pushed herself onward, leading them through one trap after another until they reached the door.
It opened at Gerta’s touch, swinging inward to reveal a broad, domed room. Snowdrifts edged the floor, blending seamlessly with the walls and giving the illusion of an endless white plain.
“Welcome home, Sister.” Snow White sat upon a white throne in the center of the room. Blocks of ice formed a dais, a miniature glacier atop the frozen lake. Jakob sat to Snow’s left, shivering and playing with shards of ice. He didn’t appear to notice them.
“Jakob!” Danielle started forward.
“ Wait.” Only the sharpness of Talia’s tone halted Danielle’s rush toward her son.
“Thank you for returning her to me,” said Snow. She wore a sleeveless white gown. Her skin was even paler than usual, and her lips had lost their color. Both of her eyes were open, but one was scarred and sallow. Even the strands of white in her hair blended almost invisibly into her surroundings, as if the palace were slowly consuming her. A crown of ice circled her brow, every spike gleaming like glass. She rose, and the edges of her gown clinked as she stepped down beside Jakob.
“Don’t touch him,” Danielle warned, short sword in hand. But it was twenty paces to Snow’s throne. The demon would strike them all down before anyone could reach her.
“What was your plan?” Snow asked. “I know you won’t kill me. Danielle clings to the hope that I might yet be saved, and Talia lacks the strength to murder the woman she loves. You’re welcome to try, of course. You wouldn’t be the first to betray me.”
There was nothing of Snow White in her voice. Her body was taut, reminding Talia of a reptile poised to strike. She frowned, and sunlight shone from her crown, piercing the darkling and pinning it to the wall. It squealed and fought, but couldn’t break free.