Treaty. Not only did he ‘perform or otherwise facilitate the use of dark magic in a clear and deliberate attempt to cause harm to one of noble birth,’ but Charlotte used magic when she tried to kill Danielle in her room, which means he ‘aided in the use of dark magics on palace grounds.’”
Talia snorted. “Don’t get her started. She’ll recite the whole treaty from memory, then cite every case in the past century where humans or fairies were found guilty of violations.”
“I like to read,” said Snow, blushing. “There are so many books. I’ve read everything in the palace library at least once.”
By now, scattered evergreens had taken the place of the makeshift town outside the walls, and the noise of the city was a distant whisper.
“And did any of those books tell you where to find the troll?” Talia asked.
“He’s a troll, silly,” said Snow. “We’ll find him under a bridge!”
“I don’t suppose there’s another troll,” Talia asked, her nose wrinkled. “One who lives beneath a less putrid bridge?”
Snow shook her head. “I check on him from time to time with my mirrors. He’s there, halfway up Fisherman’s Canal.”
Fisherman’s Canal ran along the inner edge of the wharf, a rocky strip of land at the base of the cliffs which had grown into a small town of shipbuilders, fishermen, and sailors. Seagulls filled the sky, occasionally diving toward one of the boats to try to swipe a meal. Others hovered over the canal, fighting the rats for the remains of those fish which had already been gutted. Their cries were a pleasant change from the shouts of the town.
Danielle cupped her hand over her eyes, grateful for the chance to rest. Palace life had spoiled her more than she realized, to be so out of breath.
Four footbridges crossed the canal, spread evenly between here and the end of the wharf. A short distance downstream, two rag-clad children had chased the birds away and were gathering bits of gut and meat from the water.
“What are they doing?” asked Snow.
“They use it for bait.” Danielle grimaced. “At least, I hope that’s what they’re doing.”
“They’re standing right beside the troll’s bridge.” Talia muttered a word in a language Danielle didn’t understand. “I’d rather not tell every kid in Lorindar what we’re doing. Bad enough your neighbor saw you.”
“Erik won’t tell anyone,” said Danielle. She glanced at a pair of gulls who were squabbling over a small black crab. Lowering her voice, she called out, “Come here, friends. I need your help.”
“That’s a neat trick,” said Snow, as the birds swooped toward Danielle’s head.
A few whispered instructions later, the gulls were flying past the bridge, the crab forgotten. They swooped low, their barking cries loud as they pretended to squabble over the gold coin Danielle had given the larger gull. The coin dropped into the water, and the gulls flew onward.
At first, Danielle wasn’t sure the children had seen, but then the girl began wading away from the bridge. Danielle couldn’t hear what she was saying, but the boy soon followed, shaking his head over what he probably thought was another childish fantasy. He yelped with surprise when the girl snatched the coin from the water, and then they were both running along the docks toward the road.
“Was that inconspicuous enough?” Danielle asked.
Talia rubbed her forehead. “It would be, if Snow would stop flirting with the sailors.”
Snow stopped in mid-wave. She blushed as she clasped her hands together and turned away from the sweaty, shirtless men who were rolling barrels from one of the ships. “Sorry.”
“Snow’s not very good at ‘subtle,’” Talia said.
Snow tugged her scarf off of her neck, earning a sharp whistle from the ship. She started to smile, then sighed when she spotted Talia’s expression. “Fine. Subtle it is.”
She brushed her fingertips over the front mirror of her