The Stepsister Scheme

light of the small fires flowed together, growing into a tiny sun.
    “What’s happening?” Danielle asked, covering her eyes.
    “They’re coming.” Snow’s gaze was glassy, like she was watching from a great distance.
    Crude limbs flailed from the light, moving with the awkwardness of a newborn. Soon those limbs gripped the pipe more firmly. A small, squat man formed entirely of light dropped gently to the floor. His features were vague and blurry. Pinpoints of shadow suggested eyes, while a darker spot might have been a mouth. Danielle had to squint to look at him.
    Others followed. The fires of the oil lamp still burned, appearing weak and dim in comparison to the dwarf. Again the flames came together, and soon the lantern died as a second figure dropped down to join his companion. This one retained the strange yellow fires of the lamp. Flickers of blue swept across his extremities when he moved.
    Water seeped out of the wall, congealing into a slender, feminine form. Her long hair was a miniature waterfall, ending in white mist around her waist. With every movement, she gave off a faint trickling sound, like a stream in springtime.
    Snow’s own shadow rose from the floor with reptilian smoothness. Soon it was the perfect twin to the man of light. He stepped away, leaving Snow without a shadow.
    Floorboards splintered at Snow’s feet. Danielle grabbed her sword and stumbled back. Even Talia drew her knife. Snow merely smiled and stepped away from the widening hole.
    Dark green fingers of stone reached out. Moving as gracefully and easily as Talia herself, a statue climbed through the floor to join the others. Her skin was so finely polished Danielle could see the rest of the room reflected on her bare back.
    A sudden breeze made the man of fire brighten, though Danielle saw nothing.
    “What are they?” Danielle whispered.
    “Wind, fire, water and stone,” said Snow. “Light and darkness. The very elements of our world, summoned and made flesh.”
    Danielle kept her sword ready. “I thought there were seven.”
    Snow pointed, and the shattered remains of the coffin began to swirl about the floor. “The seventh is the embodiment of magic. She’s too wild to be given her own form, so she will remain within me. She’ll give me the power I need to find your husband and face my mother.”
    She stepped toward the cloud of glass, which began to re-form into a single mirror. Snow didn’t bother with rhymes this time. Fragmented images flickered before her. Danielle caught a brief glimpse of Armand sitting at a table. It was too fast for her to follow, but Snow said, “I know where they are.”
    The contours of a woman’s face began to emerge in the cloud of glass. The features resembled Snow, aged twenty years. Knives of glass settled around the brow, a mirrored crown. The oversized eyes blinked, and the harsh lips pulled into a smile. “I expected you to flee.”
    “I know,” said Snow. She clapped her hands, and the glass crushed together. Danielle saw the face flinch, and then glittering powder streamed to the floor.
    “Your mother?” Danielle asked.
    “She already knew I was awake,” said Snow.
    “You’re taunting her?” Talia asked.
    “She’s impetuous when she loses her temper. I want to be sure she comes out to face me.” Snow turned toward the door. The stone dwarf leaped like a jack-rabbit, driving her fingers into the wood and ripping it apart, just as she had done to the floor.
    “You could have just opened it,” Talia muttered. She drew her knife, then glanced at the ceiling, where her tiny spindle whip still swung over Snow’s coffin. She hadn’t been carrying it when she used Trittibar’s magic to restore herself. “I don’t suppose—”
    Snow snapped her fingers, and the whip pulled free of the plaster. By the time it flew to Talia’s hand, it had regained its full size.
    “Nice.” Talia’s face was grim as she wound the line back around the spindle.
    The hallway was empty. Snow followed her dwarves through the door, leaving Talia and Danielle to follow.
    “What are they, really?” Danielle whispered.
    “The dwarves? They’re not good, if that’s what you’re asking. They tortured Snow’s mother before they killed her,” Talia said. “She told me about it once, after drinking way too much ale. Wind and magic held Rose in place while fire consumed her from the feet up.”
    Danielle glanced at Charlotte’s door as they passed. Thankfully, neither Snow nor