The Stepsister Scheme

15
    The silence that followed Brahkop’s death was, in many ways, more frightening than the previous clamor of battle. Danielle clutched her sword, peering up both staircases for any sign of the Duchess or her darkling servant.
    Talia grabbed a round napkin of lace-rimmed satin from the table and pressed it to the wound in Danielle’s arm. She worked one-handed, keeping her broken arm close to her body. “Hold this, and press hard. Is the prince—”
    “He’s alive,” said Danielle. Their voices sounded so loud. She could hear nothing beyond the walls. Had Snow finished her battle with Stacia?
    “Good.” Talia used a second napkin to knot the first into place, then peered down at Armand. “How did you manage that?”
    Danielle touched Armand’s cheek. Blood matted his hair where his forehead had struck the floor, but his breathing was steady. His face was warm and still flushed from their fight.
    “He passed out when I broke the spell,” Danielle said, dodging the real question. She didn’t think Armand would appreciate others knowing exactly how his wife had beaten him. “Do you know how to get out of here? We have to find Snow.”
    “Not yet.” Talia checked Danielle’s leg. “As soon as we get back, I’m teaching you to parry.” More napkins soon covered Danielle’s thigh. “Can you walk?”
    “I think so.”
    Talia turned around. “No doors. You check that staircase. I’ll check this one.” She paused briefly by the table.
    Danielle frowned when she saw what Talia was doing. “Tell me you’re not stealing the Duchess’ dinnerware.”
    Talia pointed to Brahkop. “We don’t all have enchanted swords, Princess. I take what weapons I can get.”
    “You took the spoons, too.”
    Talia shrugged. “Old habits.” She headed for the stairs.
    Danielle did the same on the other side. As she reached the railing, a choked gasp made her whirl. Stacia stood beside Brahkop’s body.
    Danielle moved first, but Talia was faster, throwing one of her stolen knives at Stacia’s head. An unseen force slapped the knife aside, sending it clattering to the ground.
    Stacia barely noticed. All of her attention was on Brahkop. She reached for the troll, but her hand stopped before touching his face. She seemed frozen.
    The battle outside the tower had taken its toll on Stacia. Her gown was torn, much of it burned away. Both sleeves were gone, and the skin of her right arm was red and blistered. A series of old scabs and scars marked her left arm where she had drawn blood for various spells. The most recent appeared red and inflamed. The poison on Stacia’s knife might not have killed her, but it was clearly having an effect.
    No matter how bad she looked, she was still alive. Danielle tried not to think about what that meant.
    “Where is Snow?” Talia jumped over the railing and drew another knife.
    Stacia didn’t seem to hear. She wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry, Brahkop,” she whispered. “I heard your call. I tried to come... .” She shuddered. “But Rose wouldn’t let me. She wanted me to keep fighting. I came as soon as I regained control.”
    For a moment, Danielle felt pity. Stacia’s grief transformed her from a murderous witch to a young child, ignored by her own mother, degraded by her beautiful sister, taking out her pain on the only person in the world lower than herself: Danielle.
    Stacia brushed her sweaty hair back and turned to Danielle. Tear streaks marked the soot and blood on her face. “I loved him.”
    “I know.” Danielle tilted her head toward Armand. “And I love him. Stacia, tell me what happened to Snow.”
    Stacia shook her head. “We were able to take control of one of her dwarves and turn it against your witch friend. It threw her down into the lake. She might have survived, I don’t know. It was only when she fell that Rose’s anger broke enough for me to answer Brahkop’s call.”
    Talia threw her second knife. The spinning blade slowed as it neared Stacia, stopping to hover in front of her chest. A flick of Stacia’s fingers sent the knife spinning back toward Talia, faster than Danielle’s eyes could follow.
    Talia was just as fast. Her hand swept up, and with a muffled clink, the knife flew to one side. Talia adjusted her grip on the purloined spoon she had used to block the knife. She shot a grim smile toward Danielle as she switched the spoon for her whip. “See?”
    “So you found someone to restore your fairy gifts,” said Stacia. “That must be