The Raven and the Reindeer

by T. Kingfisher

The days passed, and the spell on Gerta deepened. Helga was not a powerful witch, as such things are measured, but she did not need to be powerful for this. Gerta’s desire to be useful was an open road down which nearly any magic could walk. “It is for her own good,” Helga whispered to herself, fiercely. “It is for her own good. She would never reach the Snow Queen. She would be set upon by bandits, wolves, bears, anyone at all. And if she did somehow reach the Snow Queen…” She shuddered. The notion of Gerta, who was sturdy and cheerful and kind and quite desperately mortal standing up against that terrible icy power... “She is safe here,” said Helga. She rested her forehead against the windowpane, gazing out at the garden. “She is safe and she is not unhappy and I am glad of the company.”