A Fair Account of the Traitors Snow White and Rose Red

Gladeskin

Jack interrupts my grand pronouncement as he lays a hand on my shoulder. "I told you already, you're more than your tiara's worth in trouble. But I did promise Snow that I would protect her meddlesome little sister—don't make me a liar now, Princess. Whatever you must do, I am with you."

I am grateful, even glad for his company, though we must soon part ways. I cradle Snow's head in my arms. "Help me hold her," I command.

But Jack never gets the chance as Micah kneels beside Snow, carefully gathering her into his arms. He's staunched his wound with a makeshift bandage of torn rags and leather belts, but his legs almost buckle as he rises to face me.

"I am Snow's guard," Micah says defiantly, as if challenging us to test his strength. I would smile at his stubbornness if I didn't know it's almost truly spent. He's spilled far too much blood; yet I can't let Micah know that he may outlive Snow's hours. I shouldn't let him come—the huntsman won't ever understand the task I must complete at the Burning Lake's shores. But he'll never forgive me if I leave him behind. "But I have failed her . . . failed my lady again," Micah continues bitterly as he cradles my sister close. "How do we wake Snow?"

"We must return what was taken from the Wildershade," I say.

An iron calm settles through me as I realize I've gone leagues beyond the point of no return. A curious weight lifts from my head, as if I'm surrendering an invisible diadem that has been digging heavy prongs into my skull since childhood. I want to laugh as I think of how paltry my worries were only days ago as I dithered over my decision to marry Faylen and wondered what would happen to me if I lost the title of crown princess to Snow. But neither title nor tiara will help me to save the last of my family—

I will be enough . . . I must.

"Don't breathe," I warn.

I clap my hands over both Jack and Micah's shoulders as dirt rises from cracks in the surrounding cobble stones and swirls in a tight circle around us. The gleam of the silver and blue livery of Leona's guard cuts through the cloud of grit as a dozen soldiers enter High Court. A stab of pity fills me as their startled gazes meet mine.

Poor, dear Albemar; if my plan fails, Chant's fractured sanity will only grow worse and my countrymen will soon lose their isle to her madness. Even now, the soldiers clutch their heads as Chant's harmonics split the air like the aria of a thousand fingers thrumming a thousand crystal goblets' rims.

I exhale before I can scream as each note rips through my pores and curves the space around us like a lens. The air sizzles with the intolerable heat of a lightning strike as the sky tears in the blink of an eye.

My choking gasp is echoed by the coughs of Micah and Jack as we collapse to our knees in silver-stained grass, only Snow remaining locked in her chill silence. Chant's kinsight has transported the four of us to a small meadow in the midst of the Wildershade. But there is no time to even catch our breath as the forest erupts into a nightmarish cacophony of splinters.

"Duck!" Micah cries.

He slams my head down into the grass, enveloping both Snow and I under his huge arms as a pine tree explodes overhead in a hail of jagged beams and needles. Trees crackle and roots groan in earthbound thunderstorms. Leaves shiver and curl, falling in argent showers that pierce the ground like darts. I grit my teeth against the agony seething through the forest; the delicate resonance of the lucidium network is horribly off-tune. Only the rhythmic beat of hooves carries over the thrashing din—

Chant has summoned our ride for the final journey.

Micah and Jack tense beside me as an unseen force stampedes through the brush, but I welcome the thundering gallop. A silhouette of glistening darkness explodes through a thicket. Leaf blades bounce harmlessly off a tough dappled hide the sheen of midnight stars as a unicorn rears in front of us.