Page 22 of Stealing Snow


  I shook my head, and Howl studied my face as if trying to figure me out.

  “If I told you a rainbow had ten more colors, would you want to see them?” she asked, genuinely curious.

  “I only want to see what’s real,” I said. “I have had a lifetime of vials. Mine just came in pill form.”

  “You don’t know what you’re missing,” Howl said blissfully. The effects of the vial had kicked in, and she got up abruptly and left me alone with my purple pasta.

  As I stood up to blow out the candles, a memory flooded back. I couldn’t stop it. I was looking at the candle on the stone table, but what I saw was a completely different one.

  It was my birthday—a couple of months before I kissed Bale at Whittaker. I had had a birthday cupcake with Vern, and my mother had brought me an elaborate piece of cake with a perfect pink flower, which I crushed immediately with a plastic spoon. That night, I had woken up to find Bale sitting beside me in my bed.

  How did he get out of his room? But before I could ask, Bale put a finger to his lips, motioning me to keep quiet. I took the hint.

  Bale handed me a donut. It was the middle of the night and—hands down—the best dessert of the day. He’d probably saved it from breakfast or talked his orderly into getting it for him. The donut had nearly brought me to tears. And I was not a crier, not even when I took the Grumpy pill.

  “Wait!” Bale said.

  I sat up in bed and inched closer to him.

  “There’s more?” I asked, clapping my hands together, which was an uncharacteristically cheerful gesture for me. I was relieved only Bale saw it.

  I expected Bale’s present to be a book. Bale liked books the way that I liked drawings. It was a travesty the day he would not be even allowed to hold a book because Dr. Harris thought it would end up as kindling.

  “Close your eyes,” Bale commanded.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Just close them.”

  I could hear movement, and when I opened my eyes I saw he had placed a candle in the donut. The flame flickered in the dark room.

  No one was supposed to have candles at Whittaker. No one was supposed to have matches. And especially not Bale.

  “Bale … put it out,” I pleaded. Fire was the reason he was here. Birthday or no birthday, he was tempting fate.

  “I think it’s your move. You can’t have a birthday without making a wish.”

  Bale wanted to give me a little bit of normal. A little bit of what every other kid had and we didn’t. A simple birthday wish.

  “I already have my wish, Bale.”

  He looked at the one window in my room, as if to say the obvious wish was for both of us to be on the other side of it. Free from Whittaker.

  “Make a wish with me, Bale.” I gestured to him, giving him permission. I knew I would have to get the matches from him after I blew out the candle.

  Bale leaned over on the bed … and then it happened.

  My bedspread caught fire. Flames quickly edged along the bedspread’s hem, grazing the floor. I jumped to my feet.

  But Bale did not move from his spot. It was as if Bale were paralyzed by the flame.

  “Grab the water pitcher, Bale!” I yelled as I pulled the comforter onto the floor.

  But Bale was frozen. The flames danced in his eyes for a second or two before he finally poured water over the fire, dousing it.

  Bale began to apologize, but I cut him off and demanded he give me the matches. He passed them to me with a shaky hand.

  “Snow, I didn’t mean to.”

  “I know,” I said, palming the matches.

  “You have to go back to your room, Bale,” I ordered. “The White Coats.”

  “I won’t let you take the blame for this,” he said, sinking down onto the floor beside me and taking my hand.

  We sat there together just like that until the White Coats came. It wasn’t a happy memory, exactly. But it was ours.

  The memory done, I blew out the candles on the Claret’s dining room table. The heist was tomorrow. I still knew my wish.

  35

  And then the night of the heist was upon us. It was the night the Robber girls were going to rescue some of our own. I was supposed to infiltrate the Duchess’s Ball, find the mirror, and steal it. The whole thing sounded ridiculous and impossible.

  Howl had outfitted me in another flying dress with feathers. The dress was the palest shade of pink, a color I normally would have run from because it made me think of my mother. But it was the most exquisite thing I’d ever seen. Its bodice had a deep V that managed to be sexy and demure at once.

  Fathom had interrupted and given me a locator moth and a blade with a handle made of a burnished metal that looked a lot like the Enforcer’s armor. “I know you plan on fighting snow with snow.”

  “I didn’t plan on fighting at all.”

  “None of us do—except maybe Howl. But it doesn’t mean you don’t need to be prepared.”

  She handed me the knife. The handle felt like the wrong end of a fire poker. I released it, dropping it to the ground.

  “Ouch! Are you trying to hurt me?”

  “I’m trying to protect you. I should have warned you. It’s going to hurt, but if you get in a bind…”

  “I have my snow.”

  “But there is another way to fight, Snow … Fire.”

  She held the dagger out, and it glowed like Jagger’s cuff.

  She reached into her saddlebag, which seemed to have an endless supply of whatever was needed and when.

  She produced a garter with a holster and slipped the knife inside. She handed everything to me.

  I took it grudgingly.

  “Aren’t you Robbers supposed to be so good that it won’t come to this?”

  “We’re good enough to know that someday it always comes to this. May that day not be today.”

  She took the knife back and kissed the blade.

  A Robber blessing. I was not comforted. But as I hitched up my skirt and slid the garter up my leg, the knife did not burn my skin through its holster. And I hoped that her blessing held through the night.

  When she was gone, I looked at myself in the pond glass. Sometimes I was more in awe with the small magic than the big. Robber clothes were different from everyone else’s. They were not for the practical purpose of warmth or propriety. They were for beauty and they were for magic. With enough magic, even their skirts could take flight.

  I waited until the very last second to change my face in the mirror. Countess Darby’s face looked different on me. And it wasn’t just the contents of the smile vial that I was pretty sure Fathom had slipped into my water earlier.

  I joined the others downstairs. But when my eyes met Jagger’s, neither one of us spoke of the dream he had invaded, and I still wasn’t sure what, if any of it, had been real. Jagger’s hair was short and cropped, and I wanted to run my fingers over the buzz.

  “This time we’re taking the River,” he said as if trying to respect the distance I had put between us.

  I thought about the River Witch. I wondered how things would have been different if I’d stayed with her—if I’d believed her from the start. What would she think if she could see me now?

  Howl approached. She looked positively radiant in a modelesque face that had razor-sharp cheekbones. “Did you get it?”

  “What?”

  “The knife. Fathom put a double whammy on that blade. You don’t have to know how to fight. The blade knows what to do. This doesn’t mean we like you. But you have to be alive if you are going to bring home the mirror.”

  I realized that the weapon had been her idea. I was half-unsure about taking a weapon from her that had a mind of its own. What if she and Fathom had spelled it to stab me in the heart?

  Margot called us together for one last spell.

  “It’s a oneness spell,” Jagger whispered. “When we are on a mission, we all take it so that we can act as one. We are all in one another’s heads.”

/>   “What if there’s something that we don’t want other people to know?” I asked.

  “We have no secrets in the Robber palace,” Howl said and leaned in beside me as we all took hands.

  “Relax. There’s a trick to it.” Jagger took my hand in his.

  There was a trick to everything at the Robber palace. And somehow Jagger always held the key or the lock pick.

  “Another bottle?” I wondered out loud. I needed to learn quickly, or everyone would know my secret, which was no secret at all, really. That I wasn’t done with Jagger.

  “No, just your will. The trick to the spell is that it only lets you tell the things that you really want to tell.”

  “It binds us together so that the operation moves smoother,” Howl added.

  I felt my stomach flutter as Jagger’s hand moved in mine.

  Still, I could not back out now.

  Margot chanted something, and we all followed suit.

  My pronunciation was not as good as the others’, and I hoped the magic didn’t demand it. I hoped I didn’t ruin the spell.

  “Sometimes the magic needs the words,” Queen Margot said, “because magic is something that has to be fed.”

  To Margot, magic was something as alive as me or her or the roomful of Robbers.

  Sometimes words could be a sacrifice, too, I guessed.

  An hour later, we were in a boat on the River to the Duchess Temperly’s palace.

  The boat glided along another passageway underneath the palace. The walls were muraled with drawings of the Snow King bringing eternal snow to Algid. His face couldn’t be seen, and the pictures made it look like the people were grateful for the snow.

  I knew Margot believed that I would locate the mirror with my Snow Princess powers, but I wasn’t so sure.

  “How will I find the mirror in the Duchess’s room?” I asked Jagger.

  “You’ll know. You’ll feel it when you get there.”

  “Won’t there be guards?”

  “Yes, but they’ll be a little busy. With us,” Jagger said confidently. “The door to the dungeon may just happen to find its way open.”

  There was a noise behind us. It felt as though someone were watching us. I reached for the knife that Fathom had given me.

  “Take it easy, Princess. It’s just an invisibility spell.”

  “Cadence,” I whispered in recognition. It was Cadence, the girl we had rescued from the club. She now was at full Robber girl glow. She wanted to help rescue the others.

  “Invisibility spell?” I asked redundantly as Cadence disappeared back into the night.

  Jagger nodded and shushed us as we pulled closer to the palace.

  Focus. I heard his voice in my head.

  Focus. There was an echo from all the rest.

  Jagger had said that the palace being on the water had something to do with fortification. Spikes jutted out of its underbelly where the water met the palace, and our boat halted as if it knew it was a breath away from being impaled.

  Jagger had used magic for navigation. He used magic for everything.

  A thought, errant and wild, crept into my head. What would he be like without magic? Would I like him?

  “This had better work,” Jagger said. He flipped one of the gold coin invitations in his hand, and the spikes split apart. Each spike transformed into a petal, and the petals fell open, revealing a door.

  Our boat pressed on—without a moment more of hesitation.

  It seemed as if I didn’t breathe the whole time.

  When it seemed we were finally safe, I inhaled deeply. The scent that filled my nostrils was from flowers growing on the walls of the underground passage.

  I thought of Gerde. Had she been here? I reminded myself that she probably wasn’t the only person in the world who could grow things, anymore than Kai was the only one who could build them.

  We docked alongside a little-used entrance to the castle and made our way to the ballroom.

  Jagger pulled me into one of the hollows of the palace. He pushed me gently against the wall and took my hand in his.

  “If it all goes south,” he began, “drink this and say home…”

  His hand closed around mine, pressing a tiny green bottle into my hand. For a moment, I thought he was going to kiss me.

  “Home is the other side of the Tree,” I countered, trying to hide my disappointment.

  He looked at me, reading my mind without the aid of the spell.

  “It won’t take you that far. It will take you back to the Claret. It will take you back to me. I promise you that it will take you only where you need to go. Only if there’s no other way.”

  I bit my lip, considering.

  I grabbed the vial.

  36

  Emerging from the underbelly of the Duchess’s palace into the luxe main hall was like night and day. Mildewy concrete buttresses turned into marble staircases, tapestries woven with spun gold, and crystal candelabras.

  All the guests were announced by an extremely tall man who took our second gold coin invitation. He flipped it over and up into the air. The coin disappeared. A piece of paper floated down in its stead. Fathom’s magic worked perfectly.

  The coins were apparently part of an intricate magical security system. They knew their invitees and would alert the palace guards of imposters. Fathom had modified the coins so we could enter without incident.

  “May I present Lord Rafe Mach and Countess Darby Mach of Glovenshire,” he said regally.

  “I almost feel guilty for the poor sap,” Jagger said as we took the red-velvet-lined stairs down into the grand ballroom.

  “Since when are you capable of guilt?” I mused. From what I’d seen, Jagger and the other Robbers did not allow themselves much room for guilt. But I could see what he meant. The real Rafe Mach was missing something quite beautiful.

  The ballroom was abuzz with music and dancing. A twenty-piece orchestra played from one corner of the room. There were ice sculptures shaped like the Duchess hand in hand with a faceless suitor, her husband-to-be. Bright-yellow banners hung from the eaves. The chandeliers seemed to be floating on air. I looked for wires, but there were none. Magic.

  And in the middle of all the din was my cousin, the Duchess herself.

  She sat on a gilded throne looking perfectly poised. Braids woven into other braids formed a hair origami crown upon which her diamond-encrusted tiara sat. Her dress was an intricate brocade in a shimmering pale pink. But what made it special were the dress’s straps: garlands of flowers that wound their way down to the bodice. The skirt was also covered with live flower petals.

  Across her porcelain face was a delicate gold mask edged with glittery lace filigree. The mask covered her eyes, extended right up to her hairline, and skimmed across the bottom of her flushed pink cheeks. I couldn’t see how it was fastened on. It seemed to be floating just above the surface of her skin. She was exquisite.

  The Duchess glanced around the room, looking a little lost. She appeared to be my age, and she didn’t seem to be having a good time at her own ball. I knew that Algid was different from back home. But the Duchess seemed a little too young to be deciding her forever tonight. My fate, however, would change course before the evening was over if I succeeded in finding the mirror.

  The plan had made sense to me in the Claret. But now that I was here, I felt everything in me clench and not just because of the corset under my dress.

  “First we dance and then we split up,” Jagger reminded me.

  He had not stopped staring at me since we left the Claret. And I couldn’t help smiling as we took to the polished dance floor. I had a different face and so did he. But he was right. If you looked closely enough, you could see the real person behind the borrowed face. And we were both looking very closely. I liked the feel of his hand on the small of my back, so much so that I missed it when the dance required us to part.

  “Um, don’t you think it’s weird that you brought a date to a suitor ball?” I realized s
uddenly.

  Jagger could see my nervousness, but he talked right through it. Keeping his hand on mine, he smoothly led me into the fray.

  “In Algid, everyone is eligible to marry the Duchess. If she takes a liking to me, she’ll execute you.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. He was joking, but I needed to hear his laughter as confirmation.

  “I think the Duchess will assume that I believed I had no chance. It will read as humble,” he said.

  I laughed out loud. If the Duchess was even remotely as intelligent as she was rumored to be, there was no way she would think Jagger was humble.

  Fathom’s voice interrupted our thoughts. We have a problem.

  What’s that? Jagger replied.

  An uncloaking spell.

  I couldn’t see Fathom, but I could sense her on the dance floor among the swirling skirts and colorful tuxedos and white gloves.

  How is that a problem? I asked before I realized what it meant to my fellow Robbers.

  “She’s going to strip us of all our magic so she can see who’s at her ball,” Jagger explained. “It’s pretty clever. She’s doing it for her suitors. Which I have to say is a tad hypocritical considering she never takes off the mask.” There was trepidation in his voice. “After it happens, can you do me a favor? Don’t look at me, Snow. Can you do that?” Jagger said earnestly, his eyes brimming with concern instead of their usual mischief.

  I almost stopped dancing. I forgot the steps and nearly tripped over my own heels, crashing into Jagger’s muscled chest. He caught me and righted me on my feet as if I were light as a feather.

  He never took off his mask, either. Was he afraid I would see the real him? Was it vanity or Robber Rules? I recalled the scar on his chest. Had Lazar carved up even more of him? Was that what he was keeping from me?

  “But don’t I need to see you so that we can escape together?” I asked, instead.

  “By the time we get back to the boat, I’ll be back to myself.”

  “Okay,” I said. I wanted to tell him that I didn’t care how he looked. Because I didn’t. I wanted to tell him that I didn’t care what was under his mask any more than I cared about what was under the Duchess’s. I only cared that he wouldn’t show me his face after he had seen all my dark places. All my secrets. But I couldn’t open that up in front of the roomful of people. Especially with the entire Robber crew listening in.