The Stepsister Scheme

mirror. Charlotte is a poor witch. Without Rose and Stacia, I doubt she has the power to hide from you. You should have no trouble casting a spell to tell us if she ever comes within a hundred paces of the palace.”
    Snow nodded.
    “That won’t stop her from sending someone else to kill you,” Talia muttered.
    “No, it won’t.” Danielle smiled. “That’s why I have you.” She faced the Duchess. “Please tell my stepsister... tell her to leave Lorindar. If I ever see her again, I’ll have her locked away for the rest of her days. Tell her she’s free, and to find her own life.”
    The Duchess bowed her head. “As you wish, Your Highness. And for yourselves, I would be happy to provide an escort to guide you down to my borders. I’m afraid it wouldn’t be prudent for my people to lead you all the way to the hedge, but—”
    “Don’t worry about it,” said Snow. She had flipped open the mirror in her knife, and was studying the left side of her face. She tugged on a strand of gray and pursed her lips. “Once we’re outside, I can have Arlorran summon us back.”
    “Thank you,” said Danielle. She looked up into the Duchess’ cool eyes. “I’ll be sure to remember everything you’ve done for me once I’m queen‹ on
    “Yes.” The Duchess glanced at Stacia’s body, then back at Danielle. “So alike,” she whispered.
    Danielle ignored her, limping over to pick up the broken pieces of her sword.
    “When you wish to contact me, simply call me three times,” the Duchess said.
    “Call you what ?” Talia muttered.
    Danielle brought her sword to Armand. She removed his sword belt and slid the blade into his scabbard. “I can’t imagine that time will ever come.”
    “Oh, but it will.” The amusement in the Duchess’ voice was enough to make Danielle turn around.
    “What do you mean?”
    “I’m talking about your son,” said the Duchess with mock-surprise. “Only a few months along, and already he has been immersed in dark enchantments. Black witchcraft, not to mention the fairy magic of my darkling children.” She spread her hands. “Who knows how that might affect a developing babe?”
    Danielle spun. “How dare—”
    Talia caught Danielle’s arm. Strong fingers dug into her elbow. “Act against her, in her own palace, and she owns you,” Talia whispered.
    Danielle forced a stiff nod. “Thank you.” She drew a deep breath, then glanced at Talia, who loosened her grip. “Which staircase will lead us from your tower, Your Grace?”
    “Either, if I so wish it,” said the Duchess. “One last thing, my dears, before you leave me. My people value their privacy. I trust you’ll keep my humble home a secret.”
    “Not from Beatrice,” Danielle said. “And I trust you will treat my stepsister well until she leaves here, and that neither you nor any of your people will trouble us again.”
    The Duchess gave a grudging nod. “‘Trouble’ is such a vague word, Princess. But you have my word that none of mine will harm you.”

    As promised, the Duchess’ staircase brought them out at the base of the tower, where glowing waves lapped a beach of smooth black stones. The stagnant smell of salt water made her grimace, and she could hear the roar of the Duchess’ waterfall behind her.
    Talia and Snow had rigged a crude travois from a pair of goblin spears and one of Stacia’s cloaks. With Stacia dead, the Duchess had offered her belongings to Danielle. It was a blatant attempt to earn her favor, one Danielle would have refused if there had been any other way to transport her husband out of the cavern. She would dispose of Stacia’s things as soon as Armand was able to walk on his own.
    Between Danielle’s injuries and Talia’s broken arm, Snow was the one stuck pulling Armand’s weight along behind her. A pair of belts at the back of the travois allowed Talia to steady Armand’s descent down the steps.
    “You’re sure he’s going to recover?” Danielle asked. He was so pale. She knelt and held her palm above his mouth, needing to f‹h, 6" eel the warmth of his breath.
    “As sure as I was the last four times you asked.” Snow set the prince down and stretched. She drew her knife and uncovered the mirror, trying again to contact Queen Beatrice.
    Danielle stepped away to rest against the damp stone of the tower wall. As short as the Duchess’ staircase was, she had barely managed to keep up with the others. Between her wounded leg and the extra weight of