Red Hood's Revenge

you really are,” Snow said brightly. “With some help from Ambassador Trittibar of Fairytown.”
    “Don’t blame me for this mess, you miserable dwarf!” Lang shouted. “You’re the one who said Lorindar would be an easy target! I told you we shouldn’t have come here!” With those words, Lang seized Talia’s wrist with both hands, forcing her knife back. He twisted free of her hold and swung a fist at her.
    Danielle winced as Talia ducked easily beneath Lang’s punch. In the same movement, Talia stepped close and drove an elbow into his stomach. Danielle winced again.
    Shortly after Talia’s birth, the fairies of Arathea had blessed her with various “gifts,” including superhuman grace and the ability to dance like an angel. Such skill and grace had helped her to become the deadliest warrior Danielle had ever known.
    “Never tell the prisoner you want him alive,” Talia said, following up with a kick to Lang’s knee. “It makes them overconfident.”
    “Sorry.” Danielle rested both hands on her sword. “Tell me, Rumpelstilzchen, how many children have you stolen over the years?”
    He watched Snow and Danielle warily. “The boy’s right. I should have known better than to set foot on this isle. Your people and your damned treaty, shackling fairykind like dogs.”
    “ We shackle you ?” Danielle looked pointedly at Heather, who continued to play in the straw, oblivious to everything going on around her.
    “She’s happy,” he insisted. “Free of worry or woe.”
    “With no memory of who she was.” Danielle raised her sword. “Victim of the same spell you meant to cast upon my son , robbing him of his memories before you stole him away.”
    “I rescue them from lives of mortal drudgery!” He clapped his hands again, then scowled at the walls.
    “A gnomish friend taught me how to block summoning magic,” Snow said. “He was much better at it than you. Better looking, too, with a much longer beard.”
    Outside, Lang shouted, “Get out of my way before I rip you apart, wench!” His voice carried clearly through the open doorway. A moment later, the wall trembled, and a shower of dirt and dust rained down from the roof. Danielle could hear Lang groaning.
    Snow shook her head. To Talia, she called out, “Remember, Beatrice is going to make me patch him up when you’re through!”
    Shouts carried through the courtyard. The guards must have heard the commotion. Even now they would be racing down the stairs.
    “Why?” Danielle whispered to Rumpelstilzchen. “Why do you take them?”
    “Can’t help myself, really.” He edged closer. Snow folded her arms, and moonlight flashed from her choker. Rumpelstilzchen raised his hands in surrender. “It started with just the one. Is a single unborn child so much to ask in exchange for turning a peasant girl into a queen? But after the first, I wanted more. Your people will trade anything for the promise of wealth and power. I’ve collected royal children from lands you’ve never dreamed of, Princess.”
    “And now you’ll turn them over to me.” Danielle was amazed she could still speak with such calmness. This wretched creature had come here to take Jakob, to rip away her son’s mind and turn him into another pet prince for his collection.
    “You want them back?” Rumpelstilzchen smiled. “Then it seems we’ve a bargain to arrange. You can keep the girl, of course. I’ll throw in a bouncing lad in exchange for your witch lowering her wards. Keep Lang, too. The boy’s long since outlived his usefulness.”
    Danielle’s sword hissed through the air. Rumpelstilzchen yelped and dove behind the spinning wheel. The severed feather from his cap drifted down to land in front of his chin.
    “You misunderstand me,” Danielle said slowly. “You will release every child you’ve stolen, and you will give us their names so that we can restore them to who they were. When I’m satisfied, you will be turned over to Lyskar to face whatever punishment they see fit.”
    Rumpelstilzchen picked up the feather. “Forgive me, but that doesn’t seem like much of a bargain, Highness.”
    “I’m. Not. Bargaining.” Danielle jabbed her sword into the dirt. For three nights she had swallowed her anger, watching helplessly as Lang Miller whisked Heather away each morning. Three nights working to confirm Heather’s identity while Snow prepared her spells. Tonight this ended. “Refuse, and I’ll give you to Fairytown. I’m told human justice