“Make me.” Gerta’s brows wagged, but then she sighed and looked away. “I’m sorry. I only thought, since the cape hid you from Noita’s visions… maybe if I were wearing it, that would explain why I saw nothing of my own future.”
Her matter-of-fact tone made Talia flinch. “Noita couldn’t see me, but she saw the rest of us. The cape might hide you, but from what Noita said, you still should have seen something.”
“So now you take Noita’s word?” Gerta snapped. “When did you become so trusting?”
“Gerta-”
“Or is it just me you don’t trust?”
Talia stared heavenward. “Can you blame me? You showed up in the most secure room of the palace-”
“Naked,” Gerta added, her anger vanishing as quickly as it had come.
“Yes, naked.” Talia scowled. “You were conjured by Snow White, who then kidnapped the prince and set off to conquer a nation. We don’t know how you were made, or to what end. Would you trust you?”
“I think so,” Gerta said slowly. “I have a very trustworthy face.”
Gerta’s expression was so serious Talia couldn’t help but laugh again. She nudged her horse sideways, grabbed a handful of snow from a low-hanging pine branch, and flung it at Gerta. Gerta ducked, grinning.
Unbidden, Talia found herself thinking back to those first weeks in Lorindar, and her growing awkwardness and confusion around Snow White. Talia had been young, lost, and furious with the world, but when Snow smiled at her, all of that had melted away.
“What do you think will happen to me if Snow dies?” Gerta asked softly.
Talia’s shoulders tightened. “She’s not going to-”
“You don’t know that.” Gerta nudged her horse ahead, squeezing through a narrow spot on the path where the trees crowded together. “We’re connected. Does that mean whatever happens to her will happen to me as well? Or can I survive alone, independent of my sister?”
“I’ve never understood magic,” Talia said, troubled by the direction of Gerta’s thoughts. How far would she go to protect herself? “What do you know of King Laurence?”
Gerta gave her an amused look, as if she knew exactly what Talia was doing. But she played along with the change of topic. “He was young when we met him. Cute, but a little too skinny for Snow’s taste. He grew up east of the mountains. The politics weren’t quite as nasty in eastern Allesandria, away from the capital. He’s a skilled wizard. Not as powerful as Snow, but trained since the time he could walk, like all nobles.”
“I hate magic,” Talia muttered.
Gerta laughed. “Says the woman blessed by fairies, wearing an enchanted cloak while riding horses charmed by her friend.”
Talia grabbed another handful of snow.
“Allesandria was founded by magic,” Gerta continued, smiling. “It’s in our blood. People from throughout the world come here to study spellcasting.”
“Talia!” Danielle had crested the hill. She was staring at a cloud of smoke in the distance, black against the gray sky.
Talia squeezed her knees, urging her horse forward. When she reached the top of the hill, she swore.
Kanustius, capital city of Allesandria, was on fire.
The flames spread in a perfect circle around the city, burning as tall as the palace walls back home. The flames were purple at the base, turning blue higher up. Violet sparks popped and flew from the ground.
“It’s all right,” Gerta said. “It’s supposed to do that.”
Danielle stared. “They set the city on fire on purpose?”
“Not the city. Only the wall.” Gerta pointed to the flames. “When we get closer, you should be able to make out the fence within the flames.”
“A fence?” Talia squinted. “Why?”
“Stone walls can be scaled,” Gerta said cheerfully. “It’s much harder to climb a wall that’s on fire.”
“It wouldn’t do much against cannons or catapults,” Talia said.
“Kanustius has other defenses.” Gerta gestured. “Two fences of flame circle the city. Each fencepost generates its own flame, adding to the wall. The Stormcrows can also manipulate the individual flames, sending them out like weapons to defend the city. In wartime, the entire outer ring can be used to repel attackers while the inner ring protects the people. Cannons and black powder don’t last long here. Nor catapults, for that matter.”
“Stormcrows?” asked Danielle.
“The magical branch of the king’s army,” said Talia. “Nasty fighters, but they rely too much on their spells.”
“How do you know that?” Danielle shook her head and held up a hand. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”
“So what triggered the defenses?” asked Talia. There was no sign of any army. What she could see of the clearing around the city appeared calm. Judging from the size of the smoke cloud, the gates had been burning for at least an hour.
Gerta’s smile faded. “Snow. They know she’s coming, if she’s not already here. Allesandria doesn’t take chances when it comes to magical attacks.”
“Will the wall stop her?” asked Danielle.
“I doubt it. She’s of royal blood.” Gerta sucked her lip as she stared down at the city. “The flame will burn anyone she brings with her, though. She’ll be able to enter the city, but there are other guardians protecting the palace. She won’t have an easy time reaching the king.”
Talia nudged her horse down the path. “Whatever secrets your mother left in the palace, we need to find them soon.”
CHAPTER 13
Danielle had grown up within sight of Whiteshore Palace. She had visited most of Lorindar, as well as four other nations, since her marriage to Armand. But Kanustius was easily twice the size of any city she had seen.
From the hills she could just make out the palace at the center. The architecture was similar to the palaces of Hilad, a design that always reminded Danielle of oversized toadstools pressed together. Every domed roof shone like gold. Given Allesandria’s wealth, it wouldn’t have surprised her to learn it really was gold.
The burning city wall blocked her view as they approached. Back home, small homes and businesses had sprung up outside of the city, crowded most closely at the gates, but here the clearing was empty. The snow had melted, turning the ground to mud. Steam rose from the earth nearest the wall. She could see stone towers positioned beyond the flames, little more than dark shadows. There would be lookouts watching the roads from within, no doubt. “How do we get inside? There’s no gate.”
“There is, but we can’t reach it unless the Stormcrows decide to let us through.” Gerta pointed to where the road met the fire. “You can see it behind the flames.”
Danielle pushed back her hood and wiped sweat from her brow. She squinted until she spied the rectangular framework in the flames. “You said the fire could be used as a weapon against intruders?”
“They say the wizard who founded Kanustius slew a hundred dragons by magic. He buried their skulls in a ring around the city, binding them to protect all who lived within.” Gerta watched the flames as if entranced. “I remember Mother ordering the fires raised once, when we were young. We were returning from the mountains, and she had heard rumors of a Morovan assassin. I remember thinking how pretty the sparks were. Snow used her magic to call one to our carriage, thinking to keep it as a pet. She burned a hole in her cushion.”
“What will it take to persuade them to admit us?” asked Talia. Her gaze flicked from one tower to the next as they left the protection of the trees. “They’ll have been watching us ever since we crested that last hill.”
Talia’s horse whinnied and stepped sideways. Eyes wide, tail compressed against her hindquarters, the mare backed away from the wall, ignoring Talia’s commands.
“Easy,” Danielle whispered. She stroked her own horse’s neck. She didn’t blame them for being afraid. If the
