The Stepsister Scheme

each assault. The flames returned again, fainter than before, but still enough to drive Rose into the wall.
    The third time, Rose managed to summon a small, round mirror. The flames struck the mirror and disappeared. Then the mirror itself began to bubble, like liquid boiling over a fire.
    “Come to me, my child,” Rose said, her voice tight and strained. The girl stepped back. With the candles extinguished, the only illumination came from the burning chair at the table. The darkness made Rose seem more solid.
    The dwarf attacked again, leaping directly at the mirror to wrest it from Rose’s hands. Rose staggered back, but didn’t fall. Slowly, the darkness of the mirror began to seep through the dwarf, drawing her into that black pool.
    Snow reached down and pulled out the knife at her hip.
    “Defiant to the last,” said Rose. “Your father had the same stubborn streak. Your last dwarf has failed, and your mirrors are broken. You’ve lost, Daughter.”
    “I didn’t expect her to defeat you, Mother,” said Snow. Her thumb moved across the delicate snowflake engraving at the center of the knife’s crossguard. She flicked her thumb, and the snowflake swiveled aside, revealing a small, perfectly polished mirror. “Only to weaken and hold you.”
    Rose’s mouth opened as she spied the tiny mirror. She started to reach for Snow, but the mirror in her hand lurched and buckled like a thing alive, forcing her to grab it with both hands.
    Snow held the knife flat against her heart, her hands clasped like she was praying. “Mirror, mirror, at my breast.”
    “Wait,” Rose shouted. She wrestled the mirror around, trying to put it between herself and Snow. “Ermillina, stop! ”
    “Bring this ghost eternal rest.” Snow threw her knife.
    The mirror in the hilt flashed like sunlight as it left Snow’s hand. The throw was weak, but the knife seemed to gain strength as it flew, moving faster and faster like an eagle diving for its prey. The blade hit Rose’s dark mirror, which shattered, taking the final dwarf with it. The fragments dissipated before they hit the floor.
    Rose grunted. Snow’s knife protruded from the center of her chest.
    “Good-bye, Mother,” said Snow.
    Moments later, Rose was gone. The knife clinked to the floor. Snow hurried to reclaim it, pushing the delicate snowflake back over the mirror. She drew a deep, slow breath, then turned back to Danielle and Talia. “I told you I wouldn’t let her hurt you.”
    “What happened, Snow?” Talia asked, reaching out to touch Snow’s hair. Strands of silver ran through Snow’s glossy black locks. Danielle could see faint lines around the corners of Snow’s eyes as well.
    Snow pulled a lock of hair over her eyes, nearly cross-eyed as she studied it. “The dwarves took their price.”
    “They were supposed to take it from all three of us,” Danielle said.
    Snow shrugged. “I’m the one who summoned them.”
    “You knew.” Talia’s voice was cold.
    “Of course I knew, silly.” She gave Talia a quick hug. “Just like I knew you’d keep arguing with me, trying to find another way, and we didn’t have time. But I love you both for offering.” She stepped back and waved at Armand. “We’re alive. Armand is free. Aren’t you the one who’s always saying we do what we have to do? Now, can someone tell me why the prince is asleep on the floor?”
    “He tried to fight me,” Danielle said. “I think I broke the curse, but he hasn’t woken up yet.”
    Snow placed her fingers over Armand’s chest. “The love spell is gone. There may be some side effects for the next few days, though.”
    Danielle swallowed. “What do you mean?”
    “That spell stifled his affection for you,” Snow said. She grinned. “Dam a river, and the pressure builds. With the spell gone... let’s just say I’ll need some extra strong thread to stitch your wounds, given what you’ll be doing.”
    “Oh.” Despite everything, Danielle found herself smiling in return. “Oh.”

    Snow cast several minor enchantments over Armand, none of which roused him from his slumber. “He’s going to have to sleep it off,” Snow decided. She approached Talia. “Let me see that arm.”
    While Snow used several pieces of a broken chair to bind a makeshift splint around Talia’s arm, Danielle crossed the room and knelt in front of Stacia’s body. She had fallen beside Brahkop. Troll and human blood pooled together, a gruesome, sticky mess of red and black.
    Stacia