The Stepsister Scheme

by Jim C. Hines

  Charlotte glared at Danielle. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  “I don’t want you punished,” Danielle said, surprised to realize it was the truth. “I just want you gone from my life.”

  “The fairies, on the other hand, tend to be much more interested in punishment,” said Talia. “Snow, can you contact the fairy queen from here?”

  Snow unclasped her choker and held the front mirror to her face. “Mirror, mirror, how you gleam. Show me now the fairy—”

  “Wait,” said Charlotte.

  Snow closed her hand over the mirror and rolled her eyes. “I know, I know. Gleam and queen don’t really rhyme. But it’s a pretty basic spell, so it doesn’t matter. It’s the flow of the words that counts.”

  Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Idiot,” she muttered. She reached for Danielle, who took her hand without thinking. Talia moved closer. She didn’t speak, but the unwavering tip of her sword made her warning clear.

  “Let him go,” Charlotte said. Her fingers were thin, the skin damp with sweat. Her shoulders trembled, and she refused to look Danielle in the eyes. “You can’t save him. If you try, you’ll only make things worse.”

  “Worse for whom?” Talia asked.

  Charlotte ignored her. “Danielle, I swear on my mother’s grave I’m telling you the truth. Get out of Fairytown.”

  Talia sighed. “Call the queen, Snow.”

  “Wait,” said Danielle. She tried to remember if Charlotte had ever called her by her proper name before. Maybe in the very beginning, before her father died, but that was a lifetime ago. “Charlotte, you know I can’t leave my husband.”

  “He’ll be happy,” Charlotte snapped. “The potion guarantees that much. And isn’t that what you want? For your true love to be happy? Please believe me. You have to flee.”

  “Why?” asked Talia. “You’ve already lied to us, and the fact that you tried to murder the princess doesn’t do much for your credibility.”

  “Killing this farce of a princess is one thing,” Charlotte snapped. She turned her attention back to Danielle. “But believe me, if you keep searching for Armand, you’ll wish I’d finished the job.”

  Danielle pulled her hand from Charlotte’s grasp. “What are you afraid of? Tell me.”

  “If I could, I would.” Charlotte touched the mark on her shoulder. “You can’t imagine—”

  Charlotte’s breath caught. She pushed herself to the back of the bed, her wide eyes fixed on the doorway, where two rats darted past Arlorran’s feet.

  “Off with you, you blasted pests,” Arlorran shouted. He grabbed a candlestick from the dresser and flung it at the nearest rat, who scurried to one side. “Damned things sneak down the chimneys from time to time. I built a grate, but you’d be amazed at the spaces a rat can squeeze through. Most of the time they fall and break their flea-bitten necks, but every once in a while one makes it down, usually when I’m here with . . . company. Ruins the mood something awful.”

  The two rats ran toward the bed. Snow watched them run, a confused expression on her face. Her hand went to her knife. “Talia—the black rat. Kill it!”

  Talia didn’t hesitate. She whirled away from the bed and swung her sword. The blade whispered through the air, slamming onto the rat’s back with a dull thump. The second rat scampered away.

  Talia raised her sword. The black rat shook his head. The blow had flattened the middle of his body, but he appeared unharmed. His pink tail lashed once, and then he began to grow. His fur seemed to absorb the light, until he was little more than a shadow which gradually stretched into the shape of a young boy.

  The other rat was doing the same. This one grew even larger, taking on the form of a human woman.

  “Stacia.” Danielle raised her sword. The glass blade shone as she aimed the tip at her stepsister.

  “That little fox,” Arlorran whispered. “She didn’t block my summons. She rode it right to my doorstep, then hopped free. I thought you said your stepsisters were new to witchcraft.”

  “I thought they were,” Danielle whispered. But the Stacia she remembered had little in common with the calm, confident woman standing before her.

  Stacia wore a gown of blood-red velvet, trimmed with black leather. A silver belt circled her overlarge waist. A web of delicate gold chain and rubies decorated her shoulders and chest, with a ruby teardrop suspended between her breasts. Pink spirals had been tattooed onto her left cheek and around her eye, partially concealing the scars left by Danielle’s birds at the wedding.

  Danielle’s stepmother would have died to see Stacia dressed so.

  Behind Stacia, the boy remained covered in shadow. Danielle could see enough to know he wasn’t human. The limbs were too long, and his movements too fluid, as if his bones were nothing but water.

  “Sweet, merciful queen,” whispered Arlorran as he spied the boy. “Sorry, ladies. Best of luck to you!” With that, he turned and scurried out of the bedroom.

  Talia lunged at Stacia, but the shadow was faster. He jumped to interpose his body between them. The sword slammed into his torso. He seized the blade with both hands as he fell to the ground, nearly ripping the weapon from Talia’s hand.

  “That wasn’t nice,” Stacia said. She pointed to Talia. “Kill her.”

  The shadow hopped to his feet, shoved the sword aside, and leaped. Talia brought the ball of her foot up to kick where his jaw should have been. He fell, twisting like a cat and springing again before Talia’s foot touched the ground.

  “Back!” Snow shouted. The light from her choker grew almost blinding. The shadow raised his hands and scampered away. Danielle started to follow, hoping to help Talia, when Charlotte kicked her in the side.

  Danielle fell against Snow, and the light dimmed. Instantly, the shadow attacked again.

  Talia dove away, changing the movement into a somersault and drawing her knife as she rose. With a weapon in each hand, she turned and sliced at the shadow’s face, momentarily driving him back.

  Charlotte was mumbling and pointing one hand at Talia. Danielle twisted around and smashed the flat of her blade down on Charlotte’s wrist. Charlotte screamed.

  “It’s your own fault for being so clumsy, you stupid cow,” said Stacia.

  “They took my necklace,” Charlotte shot back. “I’m doing the best I can.”

  “I know. That’s the sad part.” Stacia pointed to the bed, and one of the blankets twisted itself into a rope and coiled around Danielle’s waist. “That’s an interesting toy,” Stacia said. “One last gift from your dearly departed mother?”

  She crooked her finger, and the ends of the blanket whipped around Danielle’s arms. Danielle braced herself, twisting her wrists until the edge of the sword touched the blanket. The heavy material parted at the lightest touch, and the blanket dropped to the ground. She raised her sword to strike.

  Stacia’s eyes widened with fear, and Danielle hesitated.

  The shadow tackled her from the side. Cold hands clamped around her sword arm. Danielle saw Snow touch her choker, but before she could use her magic, Charlotte reached out with her good hand and grabbed Snow by the hair. Then Charlotte disappeared.

  “Stop summoning me, you stupid gnome!” Charlotte screamed from another room. Danielle could hear Arlorran giggling.

  Snow’s light drove the shadow off of Danielle. Her arm felt weak and heavy, but she wasn’t bleeding. She rolled to her side and stabbed the tip of her sword into the shadow’s leg.

  He let out a childlike scream, the first sound Danielle had heard him make, and scurried back to Stacia’s side. Stacia opened her mouth to cast another spell, then twisted away as Talia threw her knife. It ricocheted from the wall behind her.

  Stacia tried again, but Talia had already snatched the fallen candlestick and thrown it after the knife. The base caught Stacia in the side of the head. She dropped to her knees, and a line of blood trickled down her face.

  “So it’s only your friend who’s invulnerable,” Talia said. “Good to
know.” She spun her sword and strode toward Stacia.

  The shadow darted around Stacia, putting himself between her and Talia.

  “Flank her,” Talia snapped to Danielle. “She can’t fight us both. Snow, get this half-grown wisp of darkness out of our way.”

  This time, though the shadow cowered from Snow’s light, he didn’t flee. He whimpered and looked up at Stacia, but refused to leave her side.

  Stacia touched her head where the candlestick had struck. Blood dripped freely, a gruesome mirror to the tattoo on the other side of her face. She wobbled as she backed toward the doorway.

  Danielle moved to intercept her. Black, oily blood marred the tip of her sword where she had struck the shadow.

  “Stacia, help me!” Charlotte shouted from the other room. “This stupid gnome keeps dancing about, summoning me this way and that. I’m going to be sick!”

  “Idiot,” Stacia mumbled. She brought her bloody fingers to her mouth and began to whisper.

  Another blanket snarled around Danielle’s legs. She swung her sword down, awkwardly trying to cut herself free. She succeeded, but nearly sliced her own foot in the process. Her arm was still weak from the shadow’s attack.

  Stacia had already turned to flee. Her body began to twist and shrivel back into its rat form. “Come!” she squeaked as she transformed. The shadow followed.

  Talia snatched her knife from the floor and threw. The blade spun straight toward Stacia, but again the shadow saved her.

  “Dammit,” Talia said, hurrying after the rats.

  Snow and Danielle followed Talia through the doorway, into a larger room with two iron-rimmed holes built into the walls. Danielle could see a pink tail disappearing into the closest hole. “Where’s Charlotte?”

  “Turned into a rat and scurried after the rest of’em,” said Arlorran.

  “Can you seal the top of those chimneys from here?” Talia shouted.

  Arlorran ran to grab a small wheel to the left of the holes. He yanked his hands back the instant he touched it. He jammed his fingers into his mouth. “Hot as new-forged steel,” he shouted, his words muffled.

  Danielle sheathed her sword and ran back to the bedroom. She grabbed the torn blanket and wrapped it around her hands as she hurried toward the chimneys. Smoke rose from the blanket, and the smell of burning wool filled the room, but slowly the wheel began to turn.

  “It’s too late,” Arlorran said. “Only a short hop to the surface. And even if we had closed them off faster, I don’t fancy being stuck down here with the likes of them.” He walked away, shaking his singed hand in the air. “I need a drink.”

  “Can you summon Charlotte back?” Talia demanded.

  Arlorran muttered Charlotte’s name, then shook his head. “Sorry. Either she or her sister finally remembered to shield her.”

  He ducked through a rounded door. Danielle caught a glimpse of bare stone walls and wooden barrels. Arlorran reappeared a moment later with a bottle of pale blue liquid, shutting the door behind him. He nudged the blanket with his foot. “Genuine unicorn hair, that was. At least, that’s what the fellow who sold it to me said.” He sniffed the air. “Smells like lamb wool to me, though.”

  Danielle looked around for somewhere to sit. This room appeared to be some kind of study. Like the bedroom, the ceiling was made of quartz. Here, the crystal had been cut into flat facets that reflected the candlelight back to the far side of the room, where a worn, heavily padded rocking chair sat. Dust and flakes of stone covered the floor. Danielle could see tiny tracks where the rats had scurried back and forth.

  A rack of stonecarving chisels and hammers hung on one wall. “Planning to carve myself a proper kitchen one of these days, but I never seem to get around to it.” Arlorran stepped toward the rocking chair, but Snow was faster. She grabbed Danielle and dragged her to the chair.

  “Pull back your sleeve,” Snow said. “Let me see that arm.”

  “It’s nothing.” Danielle flexed her arm to demonstrate. “You drove him back before—”

  “I’m the healer,” Snow interrupted, with no trace of playfulness. She tugged the sword from Danielle’s hand and set it on the floor. Then she unbuttoned Danielle’s cuff and folded back the sleeve. “I get to say whether it’s nothing.”

  “But it doesn’t even hurt.”

  “Listen to your friend, lass,” said Arlorran. “You don’t fool around with wounds from one such as that.”

  Snow sucked air through her teeth, pulling Danielle’s attention back to her arm.

  “What did it do to me?” Danielle whispered.

  The skin was unbroken, but Danielle could clearly see where the shadow had grabbed her. Pale, dry skin had already begun to flake away. She touched one of the dark freckles that hadn’t been there before. They reminded her of age spots.

  Snow gently pinched her arm, then let go. The skin was dry and wrinkled, and retained the impression of Snow’s fingers for several heartbeats.

  “What was that thing?” Danielle asked.

  Arlorran shook his head. “Listen, Princesses. I vowed to help you, whether I like it or not.” He took a swig from his bottle. “So I’ll tell you this much. Your stepsister gave you some good advice. I’d get out of Fairytown if I were you. The sooner the better.” He kept glancing behind, at the closed chimneys.

  “Her skin looks like his,” said Talia, pointing to Arlorran. “It looks old.”

  “Hey, now. None of that.” Arlorran moved toward Snow. “She’s right about the aging, though. If it were me, I’d cast that light trick of yours again. Might help destroy any leftover power in the wound. Might not, either. Who knows? You’re just lucky he didn’t hold on any longer.”

  Danielle turned her face away as the light flared. Warmth like sunlight spread over her arm, sending tingles through the old skin.

  “The effects don’t run deep,” Snow said. She put one hand on Danielle’s arm and closed her eyes. “It brushed the muscle. You may feel a little weak, but that should pass over the next few weeks, as the skin and muscle grow back.”

  “You still haven’t told us what that was,” Talia said.

  Arlorran scowled and set his wine on the floor. “’Twas a darkling,” he said softly. “Offspring of the Dark Man himself.”

  “I’ve read of him,” said Snow. “He’s a servant of the fairy queen. They say his touch can cause a man to wither away between one breath and the next. If he’s merciful, he simply shrivels a limb or turns your eyes to dust.”

  “Does this mean the queen is involved after all?” Danielle asked.

  Arlorran gave a violent shake of his head. “The Dark Man serves the queen, and none other. But his children, they’re another matter. Wild and evil, they are. Casteless, too.”

  “The Dark Man is the queen’s assassin.” Snow turned to Arlorran. “I’ve never heard of him having children.”

  “Lots of things humans don’t know about fairies,” Arlorran said.

  “Why would a darkling serve Charlotte and Stacia?” Danielle asked, trying to assimilate it all. A mere four months earlier, she had been living at home, suffering only the mundane torments of her stepsisters. Ashes ground into her blankets, or old eggs tucked away at the bottom of her trunk until the smell infested every garment she owned. She looked at her arm and shuddered. What would have happened if Snow hadn’t driven the darkling from her arm? She yanked her sleeve down, covering the aged flesh.

  “That’s the meat of it, that is,” said Arlorran. “Darklings serve neither king nor queen. Even the Dark Man can’t control them. The queen gave orders that any of those shadow-loving bastards who set foot on her land are to be destroyed. Not that most folks are likely to take on a darkling.”

  “So who do they serve?” asked Talia.

  Arlorran shook his head. “Looks like they serve the princess’ stepsisters, don’t it?” He began to pace back and forth, circling away from the chimneys. “I’m telling you, this is more than you bargained for. Charlotte might not be much to look a
t when it comes to magic, but Stacia was strong enough to manipulate my own summoning, and not one witch in a hundred could do that. If she’s got darklings scurrying after her as well. . . .”

  “You promised to help us,” Danielle said. “I need to know where they’ve gone.”

  “I am helping you, Princess. You don’t want to find those beasts.”

  Danielle picked up her sword. Darkling blood still clung to the glass. “We hurt him as much as he hurt me,” she said. She walked to the chimney and grabbed the blanket, searching for an unburned patch, which she used to wipe the blade.

  Arlorran shook his head, but didn’t answer.

  Behind him, Snow winked at Danielle. “This is where you used to talk to me,” she said, putting a hand on Arlorran’s shoulder and guiding him toward the rocking chair. The chair was wide enough for her to squeeze in beside him. She pointed toward the ceiling. “Your image always had a pink tinge to it. I hadn’t realized you could enchant quartz as a scrying surface.”

  “Took years to get it polished fine enough to hold the spell,” Arlorran said. He turned his head to one side and let out a quiet belch.

  “So why did you stop talking to me?” Snow’s lower lip jutted out slightly. “It’s been almost a month. Do you know how lonely it gets down there in my library?”

  Arlorran shook his head. “Lass, I’m well over two centuries old. Do you really think you can flirt the truth from me with those long eyelashes and big—”

  “Let’s find out,” said Snow. She kissed the tip of his ear, then twirled his beard around her index finger. “I really did miss you, you know.”

  “It’s been a rough time for me,” Arlorran said, patting her hand.

  Talia snorted. “Us, too. We’re the ones fighting assassins and demons and darklings, remember?”

  “Be nice.” Snow stuck out her tongue.

  “You’re a nice girl,” Arlorran said. “All of you are.” He frowned at Talia. “Well, maybe not all of you. Point is, I don’t want to see you get hurt.”