none.”
Gerta paled. She stared at the flower, then inhaled again, more deeply this time.
“Death clouds everything around it,” Noita said. “Not even your mother was strong enough to foresee her own end.”
Gerta flung the flower away. “Talia-”
“Those flowers also told Noita she’d be able to capture us, remember?” Talia said. “Magic is unreliable at its best, and she doesn’t strike me as the most trustworthy witch.”
“Let me try,” said Danielle.
“You’re sure?” Noita clucked her tongue. “Like your friend, you might not want to see the truth.”
Danielle used her sword to cut another tiger lily. Without a word, she lifted it to her face until the petals stroked her nose.
“Concentrate on the one you want to see,” Talia said, continuing to relay Noita’s words. “Your will and focus guide the visions.”
Danielle sniffed the flower. The garden melted away, revealing walls of ice. Fog carpeted the floor. Jakob sat playing with flat shards of ice, so clear they looked like glass. His skin was pale, his lips and fingernails blue from the cold, but he wasn’t shivering.
“What is it?” Talia’s voice, though Danielle barely heard her. Talia sounded as though she were shouting from a great distance.
“Jakob. He’s alive.” Tears dripped down her cheeks. The fog shifted enough for her to glimpse the floor, made of broken tiles of ice so smooth she could see her son’s reflection.
Jakob’s fingers were cut and bleeding, but he continued to rearrange the pieces of ice, his round face wrinkled in concentration. His breathing was far too slow.
“Jakob, it’s me!” In the past, Jakob had sometimes been able to sense when Danielle looked in on him through one of Snow’s mirrors, but not today.
“Where are they?” Talia’s voice, hard and emotionless.
Danielle’s vision shifted. She spotted Snow sitting on a throne of ice, watching Jakob. Snow had always been pale, but now the red had faded from her lips and cheeks. Even her eyes had lost much of their luster. Her hair was swept back, and she wore a crown of crystal or ice. Animated flakes of snow and glass flew about, haloing their mistress.
“It’s a palace of ice,” Danielle whispered. Green light shimmered and danced beyond windows of clear ice.
Snow rose from her throne. Her lips moved, but Danielle couldn’t make out what she was saying. Snow’s crown brightened like the sun, filling Danielle’s sight until she turned away.
A scream shattered the fading vision. Danielle spun, flinging the flower away and grabbing her sword.
“What is it?” Talia asked.
Danielle wiped her eyes, trying to will her surroundings into focus. The flower on the ground had wilted, the petals wrinkled and brown. “I heard… I saw Jakob. He’s alive.”
“What else did you see?” Noita asked.
“There was a scream. I don’t know whose.” She could still hear the sound, sharp with fear and pain. “I glimpsed Snow. She was so pale.”
“So Noita wasn’t lying about the flowers.” Gerta stared at the tiger lily in her hands.
“I’m sorry, Gerta.” Was it Snow who killed her? For all she knew, that could have been Gerta’s scream.
“The flowers show what might come,” Talia said firmly.
“If I’m to die-”
“Shut up,” snapped Talia. “You’re not dying.”
Danielle said nothing. Could they really change Gerta’s fate? What if she refused to accompany them, trying to save herself by avoiding Snow White? Danielle could order her to return to the Phillipa, send her back to Lorindar, but who was to say Snow wouldn’t intercept her before she reached the harbor? And could they find Jakob without Gerta’s help?
Danielle spun around. Despite the garden’s impressive size, she suddenly felt closed in. She needed out, to be somewhere the birds sang and the wind blew.
“That doesn’t give us enough.” Talia grabbed one of the last tiger lilies. “We have to know how to stop her.”
“Wait,” said Danielle, but Talia was already inhaling the flower’s scent. Her pupils grew large, and her features went slack.
Relief surged through Danielle, followed immediately by guilt. She had been afraid Talia would see nothing, as Gerta had. Danielle waited, her attention split between Noita and Talia. For Noita’s part, the strength seemed to have left her. She rested on her bench, body folded over her cane as she watched.
“What do you see, Talia?” asked Danielle.
“King Laurence. He’s bleeding. Snow cut him with her mirror.” Talia shook herself, then swore in Arathean. “If she controls the king of Allesandria, she’ll have one of the largest armies in the world at her disposal.”
“We’ll send word to Laurence,” said Danielle. “How far to the palace?”
“Less than a day’s ride.” Gerta sounded distant. Her obvious fear jabbed Danielle’s heart. If they continued upon this path, Gerta would die.
No… Noita had foreseen their arrival, but she hadn’t seen Talia. She hadn’t predicted this. That future had already been changed. So could Gerta’s.
“What do we do about her?” Talia asked, waving her blade at Noita.
“Leave her.” Danielle pushed open the door. She called out with her mind, summoning their horses to the front of the cabin. She called to the birds as well, to carry a message to King Laurence.
Talia hadn’t moved. “There’s kindness, and there’s stupidity. She meant to kill us all. She helped Rose to poison Snow. She-”
“She failed,” Danielle said. “And she’s seen what will happen to her if we don’t stop Snow.” She gestured to Noita, who remained slumped on the bench. “She needs us to succeed.”
“Is that how you mean to rule Lorindar?” Talia asked. “Oh, sure, she tried to assassinate the queen, but that’s all right so long as she doesn’t do it again.”
“Which is more important, punishing her for what she tried to do, or saving Jakob and Snow?” And Gerta, if they could.
Danielle stomped through the cabin without waiting for an answer.
Talia could feel the pounding of her horse’s blood, fear making it pulse faster than usual. Even a day after leaving Noita’s cabin, with Danielle doing her best to calm the beast and allow Talia to ride, its eyes were wide, and it twitched and shook its head as if wanting to toss her free. Talia had switched horses twice, simply to make sure they didn’t exhaust themselves through terror.
“I could wear the cape for a time,” Gerta said, riding alongside.
Talia grabbed the front of the cape, instinctively pulling it tighter. “I’m all right.”
“Liar. I saw you scowling at Danielle when we left. The cape makes you tense. You’re always hunting.”
“Better the hunter than the prey,” Talia said. “Danielle was right. Noita’s no threat anymore.” Though it wouldn’t have taken much time at all to snap the witch’s neck and fling her broken body to the ground.
“Will the cape shield us if you take it off?” Gerta asked. “Tuck it away in your pack until we reach Kanustius.”
Talia tried to keep her annoyance in check. Did Gerta really think she hadn’t thought of that? “The cape has no life of its own.”
“So let me take a turn.” Gerta tossed her hair back, exaggerating the movement. “It doesn’t really match your complexion anyway.”
Talia laughed. “All of your magic combined with the wolf’s temper? That’s a bad idea if ever I’ve heard one.”
“You’re right, of course. Far better to let it continue fanning your temper until you lash out and kill one of us.” Gerta cocked her head. “Though you’re rather sexy when you smolder. It’s the eyes.”
Talia flushed. “Stop that.”
