There was nothing of Snow White in her voice. Her body was taut, reminding Talia of a reptile poised to strike. She frowned, and sunlight shone from her crown, piercing the darkling and pinning it to the wall. It squealed and fought, but couldn’t break free.
“What was yours?” Talia countered. “To murder the people who tried to save you? To burn your homeland and entomb its nobles the same way your mother once did to you? To loose demons upon the world and watch it fall into ruin?”
“Not to burn, but to cleanse. Oh, Talia, you don’t understand what it’s like to finally see. The spirits you call demons will purge the lies and the corruption from this world.”
“What of joy?” Danielle asked. “Will you purge that, too?”
Snow tapped a foot to the floor. Her reflection shivered, and for a moment Talia saw not the demon but Snow White, unscarred and trapped within the icy mirror. “Your friend’s spirit survives, you know,” she said lightly. “It was Jakob who found that lingering shred of humanity, thinking it could save him. Kill me and you kill what remains of her as well.”
Talia stepped forward. As if that were a signal, cold winds swirled to life. She tried to cling to Gerta’s hand, but the wind ripped Talia away and flung her against the wall. Ice and snow all but blinded her, turning the others to mere shadows.
“Not that I mean to give you the chance,” Snow added.
“Talia!” She could hear Gerta’s cry, but couldn’t see her. And then the wind weakened enough for Talia to push away.
Gerta clung to Danielle’s arm for support. Her eyes were squeezed shut, fists knotted.
“You’re trying to possess a demon?” There was no strain in Snow’s voice. She sounded delighted, as though a pet had just learned an unexpected trick. “Not even Snow White was bold enough to try that.”
Gerta crumpled to the ground. She turned toward Talia. “Please.. .”
“I won’t let her take you,” Talia promised. Tears froze on her cheeks.
Snow’s voice hardened. “She was mine from the moment I created her.”
Gerta’s lips moved in unison with Snow’s. Her face had gone slack. Whatever magic she had used to try to control the demon-to try to protect Talia-had merely opened her to the demon’s power.
Talia lunged to the side, stepping between Snow and the darkling. The sunlight was warm, but didn’t burn human flesh the way it did the fairy. The darkling dropped to all fours behind her. “Do it,” Talia snapped.
The darkling scrambled forward, its body smoldering from Snow’s attack. Snow’s crown flared with light, but Talia kept herself ahead of the darkling, protecting it as it crawled not toward Snow, but to Gerta. It tugged her onto her back, then pressed a single finger to Gerta’s left eye.
A scream filled the palace, shared by Snow and Gerta alike. The winds died, and the sunlight blinked away. Talia raced to Gerta. “Are you-”
Gerta rolled onto her side, clutching her ruined eye. White dust trailed from her fingers. “I can feel her pain, and her fury.”
Talia hesitated.
Gerta pushed her away. “Go, damn it!”
Danielle was already running toward Jakob. Talia tore herself from Gerta and ran after Snow. She reached into her jacket, pulling out the magic-inhibiting chain they had taken from the palace. She had braided rope handles through the end links the night before, while the others slept. She grabbed one handle in each hand, tugging the chain taut.
Snow held one hand to her eye. In her other, she had created a sword of ice. She blinked her good eye, as if trying to focus. Talia ran faster, nearly slipping on the ice. She had to strike while the demon was disoriented.
Ice swirled around Snow’s body, forming armor that resembled clouded plates of quartz. She stabbed her blade into the floor and waved a hand at Talia. Danielle cried a warning as the shards Jakob had been playing with tore from his grasp and flew through the air. Two struck Talia, but the giant’s magic protected her. The darkling was less fortunate. Three shards pierced its chest, and it fell, blackness seeping over the ice.
Snow snatched up her sword. Talia dropped into a slide, kicking Snow’s legs and sending her face-first to the ice. Talia slammed into the edge of the dais and pushed herself to her feet. As Snow rose, Talia kicked the sword from her hand and swung the chain like a whip, looping it around Snow’s neck. Talia grabbed the other end and pulled tight, crossing the links to form a circle that dug into the ice protecting Snow’s throat.
Icy claws bloodied Talia’s forearms. The demon was too strong, pushing herself up even as Talia tried to hold her. Talia kicked the back of Snow’s knees, trying to keep her off-balance.
Snow lurched backward, slamming them both onto the dais. From the sharp pain in Talia’s side, the impact had either bruised or broken a rib. She twisted the rope handles together, clutching them in one hand, and drew her knife.
“Go ahead,” Snow said, her voice harsh. “Murder the woman you love. You’ll be killing Gerta as well. How long will you survive with those deaths upon your heart?”
In the edge of her vision, Talia saw more of the white monsters enter the room. She couldn’t feel her fingers anymore. Blood covered her arms, dripping toward her hands.
Snow’s elbow cracked the back of Talia’s hand, and the knife fell away. Snow bucked, and it was all Talia could do to hold on to the chain.
She could hear Danielle shouting to her son, telling him she was sorry. Sorry for what, Talia didn’t know. Gerta lay unmoving on the ice, ignored by the creatures that spread to surround the throne. Talia pulled harder, but the armor kept the links from cutting off Snow’s breath.
And then Danielle was there, clutching her sword in both hands. Blood trickled down the edge, though Talia hadn’t seen her stab anyone with it. Perhaps Danielle had used it against one of the monsters.
No… it wasn’t their blood. It was Jakob’s blood. Fairy blood. Jakob was huddled behind the throne, and his left hand was bleeding.
Snow saw, too, and she stopped struggling. When she spoke next, she sounded almost like herself. “Danielle. You were my friend.”
“I always will be.” Danielle raised the sword.
Talia buried her face in Snow’s hair. She could feel the impact as Danielle drove the sword into Snow’s side. Snow grunted. Her armor cracked and began to fall away.
Gerta screamed. Talia could see her clutching her side.
“Gerta could still live,” Snow wheezed. “Release the chain. I give you my word Gerta will survive.”
“Don’t let go,” Gerta yelled.
Danielle had turned to face Snow’s creatures. She held her sword in one hand, and picked up Snow’s ice blade with her other. Danielle wasn’t the best student, but her years of practice with Talia had paid off. Despite the odds, Danielle stood in a low, balanced stance, her body relaxed. It wouldn’t be enough, but Talia had no doubt she would take several of the creatures with her.
They didn’t attack. Over the pounding of her blood, Talia made out the sound of Gerta chanting a spell. Her voice was weak but determined.
“I know what you left behind, Talia,” Snow whispered. “Your throne. Your lover. Your children. You could have them all back again.”
“You wouldn’t want them,” said Danielle. “You’d look upon your home and see only ugliness. Your children would be repulsive to your sight.”
“Shut up. Both of you.” Talia closed her eyes. Snow’s hair was damp with sweat and melted ice. Her body was so cold, making Talia want to pull her closer, to share her own warmth.
“Took you long enough to get here.”
Talia’s eyes snapped open. The voice was Snow’s, but without the bitter edge of the demon. It had come from within the ice. In the blood-smeared reflection, she saw herself clutching the necklace around Snow White’s throat, but in that reflection Snow had turned around to face her, a weary smile on her face.
“Snow?” Talia whispered.
“I tried, Talia. As soon as the mirror cracked, I felt it reaching for me. I realized what my mother had done. I tried to fight it-”
“It’s not your fault.” Talia’s voice broke. A part of her wondered if this was the demon’s doing, a trick to get
