The Stepsister Scheme

by Jim C. Hines

  Stacia started to laugh. “Don’t you realize you can’t—”

  Before the darkling could recover, Snow threw one of her silver snowflakes. Stacia screamed as the points embedded themselves in her thigh.

  “Hurts, doesn’t it?” Charlotte said. A bloody bandage covered her forearm from their fight at Arlorran’s home.

  “You always aim low, Snow,” Talia said.

  With a grim smile, Snow touched her choker and began to mutter a spell. A beam of white light shot down from inside the cave, piercing the darkling. His snarls changed to squeals of pain, and smoke rose from his skin. Danielle didn’t understand where it was coming from at first, and then she remembered the lone mirror Snow had sent into the cave. But why hadn’t that mirror shown Stacia and Charlotte coming through the cave?

  Stacia clapped her hands, and the light disappeared. Danielle heard glass shatter an instant later.

  “She broke my mirror!” Snow stared. “She shouldn’t be able to do that.”

  Talia dove into the water, surfacing at the edge of the cave. She pulled herself up, swinging her sword so quickly that both Stacia and Charlotte stumbled back. The darkling shook himself like a dog. White smoke still rose from his body. Talia kicked him in the head, slamming him into the cave wall.

  Danielle leaned forward and patted her aviar’s neck. “Into the cave, girl.”

  Wind soared past the ragged curtain of vines. The darkling spun and leaped to intercept her. Black fingers reached toward Danielle’s throat.

  Danielle swung her sword. The darkling somehow managed to change directions in midair, but the blade still sliced the tips from his toes. He landed hard and rolled into a ball, clutching his foot with both hands.

  Danielle climbed down from her aviar, who retreated toward the light. She spotted Talia, still driving Stacia deeper into the cave. Charlotte lunged at Talia from the side. Talia kicked her in the face, then followed up with an elbow to the throat.

  As Charlotte fell, Talia glanced back at Danielle long enough to shout, “Get out of here, you idiot!”

  “She’s so bossy,” said Snow, coming up behind Danielle. “What does she think she is, some kind of princess?” She smiled and stepped toward the darkling. Thin beams of light stabbed the rock, surrounding him. Snow started to say something more, when her mirrors flickered. She touched her choker, and the light stabilized. “What’s wrong with these things?”

  Whether they were working properly or not, Snow’s mirrors appeared to have caged the darkling. Danielle turned to help Talia. Before she could move, the rock wall behind Talia shivered. Flakes of stone fell away, turning to dust that vanished before hitting the ground.

  “Talia, behind you!” Danielle shouted.

  Talia sidestepped, bringing her sword around to defend against this new threat, but for once she wasn’t fast enough.

  Brahkop the troll jumped down from the rock, ropes of hair twining around Talia’s sword and arm. His hair had tripled in length since Danielle last saw him. Long, silver braids wrenched Talia into the air, pinning her to the ceiling. Her sword clattered to the ground.

  “Thank you, love,” said Stacia. She limped toward Brahkop and slipped one hand through the masses of hair, stroking the troll’s arm.

  Danielle and Snow looked at one another.

  “Your stepsister has strange taste in men,” Snow said.

  Talia tried to shout, but another length of hair wrapped around her face, muffling the sound.

  “Let her go,” said Danielle. She kept her sword pointed at Brahkop.

  “Or maybe I should rip her apart instead,” Brahkop said. “I still owe her for the cut she gave me.”

  Danielle hesitated. Charlotte hadn’t gotten up from the floor, and Snow had the darkling trapped. Stacia looked battered and exhausted, but she might still have a spell or two in reserve. “I thought you were banished from Fairytown,” she said, stalling for time.

  Somewhere beneath all that hair, Brahkop shrugged. “I am. But marriage transcends all, here in Fairytown. My wife is a guest of the Duchess, and that means I’m welcome here. A good thing, considering what you did to my home.”

  “You’re married?” Danielle looked back at Stacia. Ridiculous as it was, a part of her felt hurt that Stacia hadn’t told her about the wedding.

  “We can’t all win princes,” Stacia said, her voice raspy with pain and hate. “Brahkop is a better husband than you or Charlotte will ever have. Strong, loyal, powerful . . . he loves me more than life itself.”

  Stacia glanced at Charlotte. “Witchcraft was her idea, but Brahkop knew at once which of us was stronger.”

  With that, Stacia took a deep breath and blew, like she was trying to extinguish a candle. The light in the cave faded, and the darkling scrambled free.

  “That’s a nice blade, dear stepsister,” Stacia said. Her voice grew deeper. “Give it to me.”

  To her horror, Danielle found herself obeying. She could hear Snow and the darkling fighting behind her, but when she tried to turn and help, her body wouldn’t cooperate. She could do nothing but reach out, passing the glass sword to her stepsister, who grinned as she yanked it from Danielle’s hand.

  “I think I’ll start with your feet,” Stacia said, swishing the blade through the air. “That seems only fitting, given what Charlotte and I endured.”

  Danielle tried to back away. Now that she had complied with Stacia’s command, she seemed to be back in control of herself. She had only taken one step when a length of Brahkop’s hair slipped around her ankles, and she fell.

  “After the feet will come the eyes. Just as your cursed birds blinded our mother, you will lose your sight as well.” She touched the blade to the tip of Danielle’s boot. “Soon you’ll wish you’d never—”

  With a curse, she dropped the sword and yanked her hand away. Droplets of blood covered her palm. Danielle stretched out, reaching for the falling sword. Brahkop yanked her back, nearly snapping her ankles, but she managed to catch the sword’s crossguard. One awkward swing, and she was free.

  Stacia’s face was almost as red as her tattoo. “Drop that—”

  A ball of shadows crashed into her stomach, knocking the wind from her. Snow brushed her hands together as she strode after the darkling. “Thought you were going to put those filthy claws on me?” she muttered. “I’ll throw you to the desert and lay you out until the sun burns you to ash.”

  “Stay back,” Brahkop shouted. He lifted the still-struggling Talia, his hair forming a noose around her neck. “Surrender, or I’ll—”

  Danielle lunged and swung, just as Talia had taught her. Her blade cut cleanly through the troll’s hair.

  “Aw, crap,” said Brahkop.

  Talia rolled away, snatching her sword from the ground. She came to her knees and dodged to avoid another strike from Brahkop. She landed next to Stacia, the point of her blade resting beneath Stacia’s chin.

  “Wait!” Brahkop raised his huge hands. “You win. Don’t hurt my wife.”

  Talia licked blood from her bruised lip. “Snow, get over here. Find out where they’ve got Armand.”

  Snow hurried to join her. Talia glanced at Danielle. “You keep an eye on Charlotte. She may look broken, but I don’t trust her.”

  Danielle moved toward Charlotte, leveling the sword at her chest. “Please don’t move,” she said.

  Charlotte laughed, a sound so hoarse and bitter Danielle almost pitied her. Blood dripped from her nose, courtesy of Talia’s kick.

  “Look at you,” Danielle whispered. Bloodstains soaked Charlotte’s shirt. She hated to wear anything with the faintest stains. “What have you done to yourself, Charlotte?”

  From the corner of her eye, she saw Snow bending over Stacia. Snow had taken one of the mirrors from her choker and was whispering a spell.

  “Hurry,” said Talia. “We’re trespassers in the Duchess’ home. I’m amazed we’re not hip-deep in darklings.”

  “It’s not the Duchess you need to worry about,” Charlot
te whispered.

  Danielle dropped to one knee. “What do you mean?”

  “You should have listened to me.” Charlotte pressed her lips together.

  Behind her, Brahkop shifted nervously. “What are you doing to her, witch?”

  “Sorceress,” Snow said. She kissed the mirror, then placed the glass against Stacia’s forehead. “I won’t hurt her. I’m calming her, and erecting a ward that should stop her from using any more magic against us.”

  Talia moved back, keeping her sword ready.

  Charlotte turned her head, staring at Stacia. “I went to Brahkop after Mother died. I hoped he would give us a way to contact her. We tried, but—”

  “Be silent!” Stacia yelled. Charlotte’s jaw clamped shut.

  “Stop that,” said Snow, thumping Stacia on the nose. “The sooner you stop fighting me, the easier—”

  “You dare use mirror magic on me?” Stacia started to laugh, but it was a laugh Danielle had never heard from her stepsister. Angry and slightly mad.

  Danielle rose, turning to face Stacia “What happened to her?” But Charlotte merely closed her eyes and shook her head.

  Snow’s forehead wrinkled. “How are you doing that?”

  The mirror in her hand shattered. Shards of glass cut Stacia’s face as they fell, but she didn’t appear to notice. She reached up with one hand to touch Snow’s choker. One by one, the other mirrors fell away. All but one broke into pieces on the rock. That last mirror landed squarely in Stacia’s hand.

  Talia raised her sword.

  “Back!” Stacia shouted. Talia flew across the cave like she had been thrown. She landed hard near the entrance. Her weapon clattered to the ground beside her.

  “What’s happening?” Danielle shouted. “Charlotte, tell me.”

  Charlotte didn’t answer. Whether fear or the magic of Stacia’s command held her mute, Danielle couldn’t have guessed.

  Snow’s hand closed over Stacia’s. Neither spoke. They seemed to be fighting for control of the one remaining mirror.

  “Pitiful,” whispered Stacia. She sat up and twisted her wrist, pushing Snow to the floor.

  “Drop the mirror,” Talia said. She had drawn another knife, and held it ready to throw.

  “Or you’ll do what?” Stacia asked. “All that fairy magic pumping through your blood makes you arrogant. What would you do, I wonder, if you were deprived of those gifts?”

  Talia threw. The knife spun through the air . . . and missed. Talia stared at her hands. She took a single step and nearly fell, grabbing the side of the cave for balance.

  Stacia began to laugh.

  “You can’t be here,” Snow whispered. “You’re dead.”

  “And you’re a fool.” Stacia cupped the mirror in her palm and brought her hands together, just as Snow reached for her own knife.

  Stacia’s magic was faster.

  With her fingers still curled around the hilt of her weapon, Snow collapsed to the ground. The broken shards of her mirrors slid along the ground, surrounding her. Slowly, the shards began to multiply. The sound they made reminded Danielle of a thousand stones being drawn across panes of glass. They grew higher, taking on the shape of a glittering coffin.

  Danielle moved sideways, never taking her eyes from Stacia. “Talia, are you all right?”

  Talia’s voice was that of a frightened child. “I can’t walk.”

  Danielle spared a brief glance, long enough to see Talia standing with both hands pressed to the wall.

  Stacia reached into the open coffin to poke Snow’s arm. “Like poor Snow White here, your friend Talia carries the remnants of a potent curse. It should be simple enough to revive that magic, plunging you into another century of sleep.” She smiled. “I’ll have my own matching set of princesses.”

  “Who are you?” Danielle whispered.

  “Don’t worry, my dear Cinderwench,” said Stacia. “We have plans for you. Plans which, unfortunately, preclude me from burning you where you stand.”

  “Get out of here, Princess,” Talia snapped. She lurched away from the wall, walking like a toddler. Her arms were outstretched for balance. With every step she seemed on the verge of falling. Her appearance had changed as well. Her hair had lost its shine, and her skin appeared rough and leathery. Acne scars covered her cheeks and forehead.

  “What do you want?” Danielle asked. She raised her sword and moved toward Talia. Stacia’s eyes narrowed as she eyed the sword. Good. That meant Danielle wasn’t completely powerless.

  “Poor Charlotte,” said Stacia. “Without her dear mother to look after her, the poor wretch was a complete disaster. Lost and desperate. Time and again she and Stacia tried and failed to summon the old bat. Fortunately, I was nearby.” She scowled at Charlotte. “Took them four attempts before they got the spell right. Charlotte is an idiot, but Stacia turned out to be nearly as gifted a student as my own daughter.”

  “Your own . . .” Danielle glanced at the glass coffin where Snow lay. “You’re Snow’s mother.”

  “Queen Rose Curtana of Allesandria. And I disowned that wretched girl years ago,” Stacia snapped. “I tried to teach her, to raise her to follow in my own footsteps, and she turned her back on my teachings. She fled, choosing instead to live with that filthy peasant.”

  “Maybe that’s because you ordered her heart cut out of her chest,” Talia said as she reached the edge of the cave. The light from outside turned her into a shadow.

  “I suppose that’s true.” Stacia lifted the mirror she had taken from Snow and studied her reflection. “A shame the pretty one wasn’t strong enough to summon me.”

  Stacia rolled her eyes. “The pretty one would have gotten herself killed the first time she went after Cinderwench, if I hadn’t helped.” A faint change in inflection told Danielle this was truly Stacia speaking now, not Rose. They were both there, though Rose appeared to be the stronger of the two.

  The darkling tried to scurry toward Talia. Danielle stepped to the side, waving her sword to keep it back.

  “You said you were nearby,” Danielle said. The longer she stalled, the more time Talia had to adjust to a body untouched by fairy grace. “I thought Snow killed you.”

  “Ermillina destroyed my body, but she lacked the strength to finish the job. I followed her over the years, hoping to catch her unaware and claim her body for my own. A fitting vengeance, don’t you think?” She drummed her fingers on the edge of the coffin. “Unfortunately, the protective spells she wove with my mirror were too tight to pierce.”

  “Why did you take Armand?”

  Stacia laughed again.

  “To get you,” said Talia. “This whole thing was a trap to lure you to Fairytown.” She grabbed one of the broken vines for balance. “I told you that you’d be better off staying behind.”

  “Why would I care about a filthy servant girl, even one who married into royalty?” asked Stacia. No, not Stacia. This was Rose. “In the beginning, Armand really was the only one we wanted.

  “Without a body, most of my power was stripped from me.” The tilt of her head was different, more regal, and she spoke with a faint accent. “Age will soon take my daughter’s beauty, and in this land she’s little better than a peasant anyway. So I thought, what better host than the heir to the kingdom? Armand would father a child on this body, and I would grow up to claim this land for my own. Neither Brahkop nor Stacia were thrilled by the idea, but I was able to . . . persuade them.”

  Danielle turned to Charlotte. “You said Armand was enchanted to love you, not Stacia.”

  Charlotte turned away, but not before Danielle saw the tears in her eyes.

  “Her?” Stacia laughed again. “Why would I choose such a weak mother? Stacia’s gift would flow through my child’s blood, making me that much stronger. Charlotte tried to prove herself by killing you. Fortunately for us all, Charlotte’s attempt on your life was a miserable failure. And then my dear husband was kind enough to tell us of your news.” She smiled and stepped toward Daniell
e, one hand reaching for her stomach. “You have no idea how delightful it was to learn I was going to be an aunt.”

  Danielle raised her sword. She didn’t know what she would do if Stacia kept coming, but something on her face must have convinced her not to try. Stacia backed down.

  She walked to Brahkop and ran her fingers through his hair. “Why settle for a royal bastard when I can take the true scion of Prince Armand and Princess Danielle? Everybody wins. I have the rightful heir, and Brahkop doesn’t have to endure the thought of your husband having his way with this body.”

  Danielle shook her head. “Beatrice will—”

  “She will do what?” Stacia asked. “Declare war on Fairytown? The Duchess’ home is well-protected, child. Imagine poor Beatrice . . . her son and daughter-in-law taken from her. Then, months from now, her grandson is miraculously saved by some benevolent fairy. Think of her gratitude. Queen Beatrice will embrace the one tie she has to her dead son, and I will have a lifetime to take back what my traitorous daughter stole from me.”

  Danielle looked over her shoulder. Even if she made it out of the cave, Rose could still cast a spell on her. Look at how easily she had taken Snow and disabled Talia. Or she could simply send Brahkop or the darkling to catch her.

  Stacia cast a disgusted look at Charlotte. “Get up.

  Charlotte pulled herself to her feet, her head bowed.

  Danielle stared at Charlotte, unable to feel anything but pity. She had tried twice to murder Danielle, to prove herself so that she could have Armand to herself. “It wouldn’t have been real. He never would have loved you.”

  Charlotte didn’t look up. “It would have been real enough.”

  “Enough of this,” said Stacia. “Drop your blade, and I’ll let your friend Talia live.”

  “So I can sleep for another hundred years?” Talia asked.

  “Give or take,” said Stacia. “These things really aren’t that precise. You’ll sleep, untouched by the years, until some dashing hero arrives to awaken you.”