A Fair Account of the Traitors Snow White and Rose Red

Even a Falling Star makes its Own Wish

Pressing my eyes hard to quell the prick of tears, I turn back to the palanquin. The canvas and poles have snapped off, but the platform is solid still. I yank the wreckage free as Micah leans against a boulder. His arm shakes as he grasps my sister close to his breast.

"This place can only be our grave, so why have you brought us here?" Micah demands. "Tell me the true price to save Snow, and I'll pay—"

"I know," I interrupt as I tug Snow from his arms and lay her on the palanquin. "But you can't, Micah. Not this time."

My fist slams into the wound in his torso, twisting hard. He gasps, doubling over as his eyes meet mine with the agonizing clarity of betrayal. Standing beside my sister, I kick the ground and the palanquin slides forward again, swiftly leaving Snow's huntsman behind as it picks up speed.

I wince as tiny droplets of boiling lucidium splash up and sear my skin as the palanquin hits the silver fluid. Yet the absence of pain is what startles me most as the Burning Lake finally drowns out the fractured dissonance of the Wildershade. We glide into the calm eye of the storm; the angry buzzing disappears from my skull, along with the sharp stabbing aches of Chant's shards in my veins. I feel as if I've been caught once more in the strange dead air that hung inside the Mines of Kadith. My sister lies blessedly, thankfully still beside me as rivulets of boiling hot lucidium spread fingers through the rose vines.

"Rose, what have you done?" Micah bellows behind me as the splintered palanquin sinks. "Toss me Snow! I can still reach you—" Stones scatter as he limps down the bank, but I steel myself against his pleadings.

Poor huntsman, he just can't understand; there are some things only a sister can do. Snow, Chant and the Wildershade's fate are intertwined in a way I can't begin to understand. But I do know that unless I find a way for the three to become one, I will lose them all.

Closing my eyes, I pull my sister close so that her head rests against my neck. Her brow prickles colder than the dead of winter. I can be the flame, the counter spark to her ice! Lucidium roars through my veins as Chant channels the mirror shards of the Star of Kadith through the pores of my left palm. The flames of my sapphire gloriphagy leap through the crystalline motes and meld them into a long blade sharper than a slant of noon light. I plunge the glittering glass blade through Snow's back, deep into her heart.

Deep, where the fierce scintilla of lucidium lodges, once the tiny seed of an apple.

Deeper still into my own chest, where Chant twists formless, yet wide-eyed within me.

A shuddering scream builds in my throat as my sister's blood flows along the length of the blade and mixes with my own. Chant's exultance overpowers my senses. Still caught in her slumber, Snow laughs with me in a strange dual fit as Chant commands both our tongues.

At last, such sweet ecstasy of shards coming together!

Chant's euphoria almost makes me forget that Snow and I must come apart first. Almost—and then the sizzling heat of the Burning Lake eats into my limbs as it swallows the palanquin. I welcome it, unraveling my blue aura to add kindling to the flame.

Combine your gloriphagy with the fiery heat of the Burning Lake to forge my new form, Chant commands. Only then can I restore your sister's life to her.

I lose hold of my sister as I spasm in the exquisite torment of the Burning Lake. My body writhes as the marrow boils in my bones, scarlet hair blackening and breaking into singed strands, eyes live coals in my skull's sockets that sear into darkness—until Snow's fingers find mine. She seizes my hand as frost erupts from the wound in her chest. Unbearable clearness floods my mangled flesh like the crack of lightning.