someone they considered beneath his station. From the expression on Danielle’s face, she knew this all too well.
“I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t know.” Danielle rubbed her face. “I don’t need sorrow or sympathy. I need you to help me find my son.”
“You know I will. But you should-”
“You know better,” Danielle said. “Tell me, what words could make you stay behind? What responsibilities could keep you off that ship while others search for Snow and Jakob?”
Talia tilted her head, acknowledging the point.
“We’ll get them back, Talia. Both of them.” Danielle turned away to resume packing.
“Do you truly believe that, or are you trying to convince yourself?” Talia asked softly.
Danielle didn’t answer.
Danielle jolted awake as the carriage hit another pit in the switchbacked road that led to the harbor.
“We’re almost there,” Talia said softly. She sat on the opposite bench, a small hand crossbow on the seat beside her.
Danielle fought the impulse to ask the driver-again-for greater speed. The roads were too slick, a result of their exposure to the ocean winds. Slush and snow had frozen into the cracks between the paving stones. Any faster and they risked the carriage sliding from the road.
“Hephyra is going to be furious,” said Talia.
“I know.” Danielle had once seen Captain Hephyra fling a man almost twice her size from the deck of her ship. She rubbed her eyes, trying to scrub away the fatigue and the lingering remnants of her dreams. “Trittibar says this should work.”
“Easy for him to say. He’s not the one who has to protect you from a pissed-off dryad. We should have brought an escort.”
“And make it look like we’re threatening her?” Danielle shook her head. Bad enough an extra garrison of the king’s soldiers had been dispatched to the harbor. King Theodore had ordered them dispatched around sunrise, after news reached the palace that the harbor-master and several of his men had fallen to Snow’s magic.
The rhythm of the carriage changed as they left the frozen dirt-and-stone road for the wooden planks of the docks. The driver called back, “Keep the shutters drawn, Your Highness.”
Danielle double-checked that the shutters were latched. “What do you think of Gerta?”
Talia sighed and leaned back. “She’s a magical construct created by a woman who was fighting demonic possession.”
Gerta was currently waiting back at the palace. She would follow as soon as Danielle sent word. If all went well, they could be off in less than an hour, just in time to catch the high tide at midmorning. “You don’t trust her.”
“We don’t even know what she is. I’ve seen Snow cast incredible spells before, but to create a new human being… it seems impossible.”
“I created Jakob,” Danielle pointed out. “With a little help from Armand.”
“That took nine months. Snow did it in nine heartbeats. She’s the one who always says magic has a price.”
Danielle’s thoughts had followed a similar path. What was the cost of creating a new life? “Gerta claims to be a part of Snow.”
Talia nodded. “A part which Snow ripped from herself. The part she tried to protect from the demon.”
“So what happens to Gerta if we succeed?” Danielle knew little of magic, but if Gerta was incomplete, a fragment of Snow White, would Snow eventually need to reclaim that fragment? How long could Gerta even survive on her own?
“I imagine she’s asked herself the same questions.” Talia’s jaw was tight. “Gerta didn’t ask for any of this.”
“I know.” The carriage slowed. “Watch her. She’s done nothing to earn our suspicions, and I’m grateful to her for trying to save Armand, but she’s not Snow. It would be easy to forget she’s a stranger to us.”
Talia quirked an eyebrow. “Princess, I’ve made certain she was under guard from the moment I found her.”
“Of course you have.” Danielle gave a faint smile as she wrapped her cloak around herself. The carriage sheltered her as she stepped down, but as soon as she moved past it, the air buffeted her toward the white cliffs that rose behind her.
They had passed the commercial ships, rounding a bend in the cliffs to reach the part of the harbor used by the Lorindar navy. Banners fluttered from the signal tower built into the cliffs a short distance ahead. Tall ships aligned in the docks like horses in their stables.
The road here was raised against the tides, but a salty mist still filled the air as waves broke against the rocks. Chimneys from the buildings packed along the base of the cliffs spread lines of smoke across the sky.
Danielle spotted the Phillipa at once, docked about a third of the way down the harbor. Unlike the other ships, the Phillipa was unpainted, a narrow double-masted ship of fairy design. Silver sails were furled tight to the yards. A carved swan extended from beneath the bowsprit. The Phillipa carried fewer guns than most naval vessels, but she was as tough as any warship.
“Princess Whiteshore!” Captain Hephyra stood at the rails. Even from a distance, Danielle could see the fury on the captain’s expression. “Was it you who ordered the harbor closed?”
The order had come from King Theodore, but Danielle doubted that would matter. She cupped her hands to her mouth. “I would speak with you, Hephyra.”
Hephyra jumped from her ship, not bothering with the gangplank. She landed hard enough that Danielle feared the impact would shatter the planks of the dock, but things of wood obeyed different laws for Hephyra.
Captain Hephyra was a dryad, exiled from Fairytown for crimes against her queen. She was taller than most humans, dressed in a fashion that gave no consideration to the cold weather. Her black trousers were tied off at the knees, leaving her lower legs and feet bare. A matching black shirt exposed her midriff and her arms from the elbows down. A green bandanna swept auburn hair back from a face both severe and beautiful.
Her stride swallowed the distance between them. For a moment, Danielle thought Hephyra meant to simply toss her into the water. But she came to an abrupt halt half a pace in front of Danielle. Suspicion filled her cold, gray eyes. “Beatrice is dead.”
“Yes,” said Danielle.
Hephyra rubbed her wrist. The last time Danielle had seen the dryad, a golden tattoo had circled her wrist, a sign of her bond to Queen Beatrice. Today, Hephyra’s skin was bare. “The fairy queen gave my ship to Beatrice. With her gone, you’ve no hold over me or the Phillipa, and no right to keep me here.”
Danielle held her ground. “I need you to take us on one final voyage. To Allesandria.”
“And back,” Talia added. “No stranding us across the sea.”
Hephyra snorted. “Good to see you again, Talia.” To Danielle, she said, “This is about your witch friend, isn’t it? The one who sailed from here like a hellstorm earlier today.”
“You saw her?” Talia asked.
“She took a merchant vessel. Not one of those gutheavy cargo ships, but an escort, fast and armed.” Hephyra jabbed a finger at the sea. “She stood at the bow, hair and cloak flapping in the wind. Even I could feel the magic she wove as she raced from the docks. She passed through the chains at the harbor mouth like they were mist. I’d have done the same, had I her powers.”
Danielle’s throat knotted. “Was Jakob with her?”
“I couldn’t say. Sorry, Princess. Best of luck finding the little sapling, though. I liked him.”
“I saved your ship, almost two years ago,” Danielle reminded her. “You owe me.”
Hephyra snorted. “You made no bargain with me. I appreciate what you did for the Phillipa, don’t get me wrong. But it was your quest that put us in danger to begin with. Yours and Beatrice’s. I owe you nothing, and my answer is no.”
“I told you,” Talia whispered.
“I know.” Danielle had hoped it wouldn’t come to this. “I didn’t ask you for your help, Captain. The fairy
