return.”
Danielle nodded. “We’re prisoners in the winter palace in Kanustius. Can your darkling help us escape?”
The Duchess’ smile was visible even through the rug. “Once you are free, he will bring you to those who can help you save your son.”
“Who?” demanded Danielle.
“Bellum and Veleris, fairy queens of the underworld in Allesandria. They can protect you and help you rescue little Jakob. I imagine they may even be able to help you save Snow.”
Fairy queens in Allesandria. Danielle stared into the illusory pit. “I don’t understand. Allesandria drove the fairies from their land.”
The Duchess laughed again. “My people are not so easily banished. We can be defeated. We can be pushed into hiding. But we existed long before your kind claimed dominion over this world, and we shall exist long after your age ends.” She leaned closer. “If you agree to my terms, spill three drops of blood into the portal.”
Danielle looked to Talia and Gerta. Gerta sat against the wall, staring into the pit. Talia’s jaw was tight, but she nodded ever so slightly.
They had no weapons. Danielle searched for a way to provide the blood to seal the bargain, but nothing in the room appeared sharp enough to cut skin.
“Your nails,” Talia said softly.
After a week of travel, Danielle’s nails were a ragged mess. She bit one, tugging the corner until the skin tore and blood seeped from the skin.
As she held her finger over the carpet and squeezed blood from the tear, she wondered if Armand would be able to forgive her… or if she would ever forgive herself.
Talia inhaled sharply, then slowly forced the air from her lungs. It was a sik h’adan breathing exercise designed to control fear and anger before a fight. It had never worked very well for her. Her jaw was tight. Her fists clenched as she waited.
The darkling didn’t climb from the hole so much as he flowed. His limbs were shadow, the edges of his form a blur. Long fingers yanked the illusory rug aside.
“What is he?” whispered Gerta. Snow must not have shared those particular memories when she created Gerta.
“A darkling, a child of the Dark Man.” A single drop of sweat trickled down Talia’s back. The Dark Man was both bodyguard and assassin. His touch could wither a limb or turn a man’s eye to dust in the socket. He served none but the queen of Fairytown, and nobody knew how the Duchess had come to control his children.
The darklings they had faced in Fairytown had been little more than children. This one was older, a slender adult with overly long limbs. His movements reminded Talia of a sea creature, sinuous and boneless.
“The king may have sensed the darkling’s arrival,” said Gerta. “The palace’s wards may be damaged, but if he holds his scepter, he’ll know magic was used to transport something into these walls.”
“Can you get us out of here?” Danielle asked the darkling.
It stepped to one wall. Illusion melted away like ice shying from a fire as he reached out, revealing bare stone walls. He touched the wall, then drew back.
“The prison was built to contain magic,” Gerta said. “Even fairy magic. Entering is easier than leaving.”
“So we fight our way out.” Talia slipped out of her jacket, wrapping it tightly around her left forearm as a makeshift shield. “The walking ink stain should help. If the king sensed this thing’s arrival, he’ll be sending his people to investigate.”
Talia kept most of her attention on the darkling as she stepped toward Gerta. “You were able to pass through the city walls. Could you also control this room enough to create an exit?”
Gerta tugged the chain around her neck. “I might be able to, if not for this.”
“Good.” To the darkling, she said, “Your touch ages flesh. Does it work on metal?”
Without a word, the darkling reached out. Gerta shuddered as black fingers curled around the necklace. Talia stepped closer.
“It’s all right,” said Gerta. “He’s not hurting me.”
The darkling backed away a short time later. The necklace remained around Gerta’s neck, but the metal had lost its luster where the darkling had held it. The links were pitted, and rust flaked away as Gerta grabbed the chain and tugged. The necklace snapped. She flung it against the wall where the door had been a moment before.
“Did you do that?” Danielle asked, indicating the vanished door.
Gerta shook her head. “They know about the darkling. The first thing they’ll do is try to use the room against us.”
“How-?” Talia bit off her question as the cot behind Gerta disappeared. The candles vanished next, though the light remained. Gerta had captured the candle flames, which now flickered upon the tips of her fingers. The light illuminated water seeping through the naked stone floor.
“Is it real?” asked Danielle.
“Real enough to drown you.” Gerta moved to the wall, splashing through ankle-deep water.
“I thought they intended to keep us alive,” said Talia.
“Laurence could remove the water before we drown. He might just want to make sure we’re helpless when they come in to deal with the darkling.” Gerta dropped to her knees, squinting at the wall. “Or Snow might have changed her mind about letting us live.”
The water was almost to Talia’s knees. Ice cold, it swirled around her legs, real enough to make her shiver. “Can you send it away?”
“I can’t fight Laurence. The palace obeys him, and he’s too strong.” Gerta was tracing lines onto the wall with her finger, over and over. She reached into the water to retrieve the chain. Using one of the broken links, she sliced her fingertip and painted blood onto the stone. The blood washed away, swirling through the water, but she didn’t stop. “But I think I can do something even better.”
Gerta pushed with both hands, and a section of wall slid outward. She held her breath, ducked beneath the water, and crawled through.
“Go,” said Talia, pushing Danielle through. She glanced around the room one last time. To the darkling, she said, “Follow after me. If anyone else tries to come through, stop them.”
The cold shocked much of the air from her lungs. The entire opening was submerged, though the water didn’t seem to be flowing out through the hole. She squeezed after Danielle, her shoulders brushing the stones to either side. Only a few paces beyond, she found herself on the floor of the icehouse. She was dry, though the frigid air was little improvement over the water. “How did you manage that?”
“The passage works both ways.” Gerta grinned, her teeth chattering. “I remember the enchantments used to connect the palace to the icehouse. I reshaped our prison to mimic that enchantment, but there was no way to do it without Laurence knowing. He’ll be sending his Stormcrows to find us.”
“Nice.” Talia turned to the darkling. Without the red cape, they had lost their magical protection. “Can you conceal us from magical eyes?”
The darkling nodded silently, and the room seemed to dim for an instant.
Talia pushed past them, hurrying up the stairs to snatch one of the chisels from the wall. The handle was too thick and the blade was triple the weight of any dagger, but it was better than nothing. Gerta followed suit, grabbing a small hammer. She handed a second chisel to Danielle. “Your sword…”
“It’s gone.” Danielle’s words were flat.
“We could sneak back inside,” Talia began. “Find Laurence and try to-”
“No.” Danielle stepped to the door and cracked it open. “There’s no time. Snow controls the palace. We have to escape Kanustius.”
Footsteps from below signaled the arrival of Snow’s slaves. Talia pushed the door wide and shoved Gerta outside. The darkling slipped past her, all but disappearing into the shadows. Talia and Danielle hurried out and slammed the door behind them.
Talia wedged her chisel beneath the door to jam it, but it wouldn’t delay their pursuers for long.
The sun had set, but the streets were as crowded as a market at midday. Families pressed together,
