Read Online The Snow Queen's Shadow by Jim C. Hines - Free Book Online Page B

him.”
    Locking the gates wouldn’t stop Snow. She could be anywhere, or anything. Her magic could change her and Jakob into mice, or it could create an illusion to disguise them both. “We’ll need hunting dogs. Trittibar, get the hounds and give them something with Jakob’s scent. Nicolette can—”
    “Nicolette was cut, too,” Talia said softly.
    Danielle nodded, refusing to let the news affect her. “She’ll need to be watched as well.” She touched her bare wrist where her mirrored bracelet had rested. Yesterday, a single kiss to that mirror would have conjured an image of her son. “Get Armand to Father Isaac.”
    Isaac’s magic wasn’t as powerful as Snow’s, but of everyone in the palace, he had the best chance of reversing whatever Snow had done. She waited until the others hurried from the room, leaving her alone with Talia. “Why would she take my son?”
    “I think . . . I think she was curious.” Talia was staring at the overturned bench. “She wanted to know why her mirror didn’t affect him.”
    “Do you think she’ll . . . what will she do to him?”
    Talia looked away. “I don’t know.”
    Danielle could feel the fear pushing up from her chest. She put one hand on her sword, but even the touch of her mother’s final gift couldn’t quell that terror. Snow had taken her son. “Tell me the truth. Are you well enough to fight?”
    “Always,” said Talia. The blood trickling from her left nostril made her assurance less convincing, as did the obvious stiffness in her arm, but Danielle took her at her word.
    “Search Snow’s library. I doubt she’d take Jakob there, but whatever happened started with the destruction of her mirror. Be careful.”
    “What will you be doing?”
    Danielle was already on the stairs. “My husband was one of the first to be cut. With Snow missing, perhaps he’ll hold some answers.”
     
    Talia took the bronze rungs two at a time as she descended the narrow passage hidden in the room Danielle shared with her husband. When she neared the bottom, she loosed her grip and dropped silently to the cold, hard-packed earth. The impact jolted the bruises in her side and reawakened the throbbing pain in her shoulder.
    There was no light here. She stepped away from the ladder and did her best to slow her breathing. She heard nothing but the pounding of her own heart.
    Talia moved from memory, taking two steps and reaching out to touch the smooth wood of the door. She pressed her ear against it, listening for several heartbeats before pulling it open and stepping inside.
    She ran one hand along the whitewashed wall to her right, seeking the lamp and tinderbox stored there. She pulled the tinderbox from its oiled leather pouch and retrieved the steel striker and flint. Dropping to one knee, she placed the box on the floor, arranged the char cloth, and scraped flint to steel. The equipment was well-tended, thanks to the vigilance Beatrice had drilled into them all. Moments later, the lamp was lit.
    Black tiles littered the floor before her, each one carved in the shape of a sailing ship. Snow’s magic had bound those tiles to the map of Lorindar on the ceiling, allowing them to track various ships through their waters. Now the lapis lazuli seas were empty.
    Weapons shone on the walls to either side. Talia took a curved Arathean dagger, sliding it through her belt, then turned to light another lamp.
    A set of sharpened steel snowflakes, each one about the size of a playing card, rested on a small shelf in the corner. The original snowflakes had been a gift from Talia, years before. Snow kept losing the things, which meant Talia had to commission a new set at least once a year.
    There was no movement in the library. She retrieved a steel-banded Hiladi war club before stepping through the doorway, just in case. Light glinted from the empty platinum frame of Snow’s mirror, which lay on the floor. Dark smears of dry blood showed where Snow had tried to grip the frame,