“The chains inhibit her magic,” Laurence said softly. “From the moment she was captured, she was unable to use spellcraft. Her ice wasps were destroyed. Any that tried to follow would have been stopped by the magic of the palace walls.”
The sound that wrenched from Talia’s throat was somewhere between a whimper and a shout. Nobody tried to stop her from approaching the body, but as she reached the chalk marks, she found herself unable to move closer. Nothing pushed her away, but when she tried to take another step, her foot slipped to the side. She stretched out, and her arm was deflected to the left.
She dropped to one knee. She could smell the wards, like dust and honey. The smell grew stronger as she pressed one hand toward Snow, but the more she forced her hand forward, the more that force was turned against her.
“Even the magic of your cape isn’t strong enough to break through this barrier,” Laurence said.
“Why?” Talia gestured at the rectangle.
“If this is truly who it appears, then the demon was banished with her death, but we don’t know what other protections she might have carried. It will take days to cleanse her body. Until we do, nothing can pass in or out of the wards.”
Gerta sighed. “Only this isn’t her body.”
“Where was she captured?” Danielle asked. Her body was taut, and she blinked back tears as she looked at Snow.
“In the mountains to the north.”
The mountains. If Jakob was alive, that was where they should start hunting for him. For him and for Snow.
Talia closed her eyes, choosing Gerta’s truth over the evidence before her. What did the demon gain? This was more than simply an attempt to throw the Stormcrows off of her trail. Could the body be diseased? Plague was a mundane threat… but it was too slow and uncertain a weapon. Anything carried by the imposter was trapped with her.
She spun toward Laurence. “Who captured her?”
“Selerin led a force of six Stormcrows.” He bowed his head. “Two were killed in the fighting. A third was badly injured, though he will survive.”
Meaning four had returned with the body. Snow could have infected them-Or would Laurence’s magic have detected that? Inspector Relmar had recognized the demon’s touch, back on the Phillipa. Better to sneak her mirror shards into the palace, but how would she hide their magic?
“Those chains,” she whispered. “Do all of your Stormcrows carry them?”
“Yes,” said Laurence.
And Snow had fought and killed any number of Stormcrows. “What would happen if a splinter of glass were set within one of the links?”
“The metal would render it inert.” Laurence’s expression turned grim. “Until something jostled them free.”
“The injured Stormcrow.” Snow could have planted the chain on him during the fight. All it would take was for a single splinter to fall free, at which point its magic would return. It would pull the cold and moisture from the air, using its ice body to climb up and infect the Stormcrow, who could then shake the rest loose.
“Where are Selerin and the others?” Laurence demanded.
“They left after the execution,” said one of the Stormcrows, an older woman with a collection of silver-and- gold rings squeezed onto the fingers of her left hand. A minor enchantment decorated her fingernails, which shone and changed color like the sunrise. An intricate tattoo of interlinked symbols circled her bald pate like a crown.
Laurence’s scepter rang against the wall.
“Spiderweb,” Gerta said. “A spider’s silk is strong enough to hold a shard of glass. Even I could command spiders to weave their webs into the links of the chain.”
The older Stormcrow took the king’s arm. “Your Majesty, if there’s a chance this demon has infiltrated the palace, we must get you to safety.”
The king’s response was far too coarse and common for royalty. He kept his scepter pressed to the wall. “There are reports of a commotion at the library.”
“You underestimated her,” said Talia.
He didn’t try to deny it. “Ermillina was never formally schooled.”
“She taught herself,” corrected Gerta.
To the Stormcrows, he said, “Half of you find Queen Odelia and our children. Once they’re safe, search the palace for Selerin and the rest. We may yet have time to stop this. Summon as many guards, magical and mundane, as you need. Princess Whiteshore, you and your friends will come with me.”
Lightning struck outside as they were leaving, close enough to illuminate the staircase through the shuttered window. The thunder sounded like someone had fired a cannon inside the palace. As the sound faded, Talia heard a low humming in the distance. “Her wasps are here.”
“Fire magic works well against them,” said Gerta.
Laurence didn’t break stride. He spun his scepter, and a ball of blue fire appeared in the ring at the end. When the first wasp appeared at the base of the stairs, he jabbed his scepter, and the flame shot out like a smaller version of the dragon fire from the city walls. Both wasp and flame vanished in a hiss, and a tiny spark of glass dropped to the floor. One of the Stormcrows conjured a small ball of clay, which he used to retrieve and encase the glass.
Danielle raised her voice as another lightning bolt struck outside. “Whatever Rose Curtana used to summon the demon is here. Are you sure there’s nothing that might have been overlooked?”
“Most of her artifacts were destroyed. The rest were locked away, and have been thoroughly studied by myself and others.” Laurence grimaced. “With one significant exception, of course.”
Talia pushed open the shutters of the closest window, trying to see what was happening outside. Across an open, circular courtyard, a tower of black smoke rose from the opposite side of the palace. “How good are your Stormcrows at summoning rain?”
“Easier to steal the life of the fire itself.” Laurence gestured to one of his wizards, who stepped to the window and began working a spell.
A young boy stumbled into the hall ahead of them. He wore what appeared to be a page’s uniform, dark blue and yellow, and slightly too short for his gangly limbs. His cheek bled from a single small cut.
Talia moved to the side, one hand palming a dagger. “So much for getting the king to safety.”
“Hello, Talia.” The page smiled. “Before you act, please keep in mind that I’m merely borrowing this body. Go ahead and destroy it, if you like. I’ve found plenty more.”
The Stormcrows stepped forward to protect their king. The hair on Talia’s neck rose as they prepared their magic, but the boy didn’t seem to care.
“What do you want, Ermillina?” asked Laurence.
“To begin with, I’d like you to stop calling me that. Ermillina is the name my mother gave me. I prefer Snow.” The page strode toward them. “I trusted you. You knew what she was like, Cousin. You knew what she did to me. What she did to Roland. Yet you signed the order for my death all those years ago.”
“I protected you as much as I could,” Laurence protested. “But when you killed the queen-”
“Yes, yes.” He waved a hand, sounding bored. “So tell me, Laurence. Who will protect you now that you’ve done the same?”
Laurence frowned. “What are you talking about?”
The page sighed. “I thought about using one of your Stormcrows, but this was more poetic. I wonder what thoughts ran through your wife’s mind at the end. Did she know it was your order that put the knife to her throat, believing she was me?”
“Odelia.” Laurence paled. The scepter dropped to the floor.
The page used that moment to fling two ice wasps. One of the Stormcrows gestured, and the first wasp slammed into the wall. Talia jumped high, bringing her cape around to intercept the second. She crushed it through the cape, then ripped her zaraq whip from her belt. The thin, weighted line snapped out, catching the boy’s wrist. She tugged hard, dragging him to the floor. Before he could rise, Talia was on top of him, lashing his
