The Stepsister Scheme

already knew that much. If there was truly something wrong with her son, and if Snow or Trittibar or Arlorran couldn’t help, Danielle would call the Duchess.
    “Come on,” said Talia. “We’re getting close. At least, I think we are. I was rat-sized the last time I came through here.”
    As they walked, the blue light of the cavern slowly faded to darkness behind them, replaced by the warmth of the fairy suns. Danielle squinted, and her eyes teared at the sight of golden light streaming through tattered vines at the mouth of the cave. She stepped carefully. Sparkles of glass still shone on the cave floor, remnants of Snow’s mirrors.
    “Do you think Charlotte will be all right?” she asked.
    Talia snorted. “Should I care?”
    Charlotte had never been alone. Danielle wanted to feel sorry for her, but every time she tried, she remembered Charlotte’s face, her words spewing spit and rage as she tried to force poison down Danielle’s throat.
    Maybe being on her own would force her to grow, to learn to take care of herself, but deep inside, Danielle doubted it. Far more likely she would leap into a bad bargain here in Fairytown and end up a slave. If not to the Duchess, then to the dwarves or the pixies or whatever guide happened to find her first.
    Danielle started walking. She needed rest, but she needed even more to be free of this place. She hesitated only briefly at the curtain of vines, remembering the last time. But the vines didn’t react as she stepped into the blinding light.
    Her eyes took a long time to adjust, after so long in the darkness. The scrape of wood on stone told her the others were following. She kept one hand on the cave wall, listening to the water and feeling the warmth on her skin.
    A deep groan made her smile. The instant he passed into the sunlight, Prince Armand began to stir. He yawned and rubbed his eyes, then tried to sit up.
    Snow hastily set the travois on the ground. Armand jerked his head around, his eyes widening. He stared at Talia and Snow, then turned to Danielle.
    She sat down beside him, carefully stretching her leg off to the side. “Are you... do you remember me?”
    Armand reached out, his fingers touching her cheek and pushing back her hair. His hand trembled. “You’re really here.”
    And then she was kissing him. A part of her was tentative, afraid that if she held him too close or kissed him too hard, he might disappear again.
    She risked it. Exhausted and wounded, she still found the strength to pin him against the ground, her lips seeking his until she had driven all of the fear and desperation and loneliness away.
    Armand matched her passion, his hand sliding up the back of her neck to hold her close, until finally Snow cleared her throat and said, “You know, I helped rescue you, too.”
    Danielle pulled back slightly and tried to catch her breath. She could have shoved Snow into the water for interrupting. Though it was probably best that she had. They were still on the border of the Duchess’ lands, after all. This was hardly the place for such... celebration.
    Armand’s face was close enough for her to feel his breath on her lips. Breath which was coming far more quickly than before, she was pleased to note.
    “I missed you,” she said.
    “So I noticed.”
    She smiled and sat up. “Also, the next time you try to take a trip without me, I’m going to have Talia chain you to the bedpost.”
    “I can help, too,” Snow piped up.
    Armand blushed. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t very princely of me, was it? I just... ” He glanced down at himself. Danielle wouldn’t have thought it possible for his face to grow more flushed, but he managed. “Can somebody please tell me what it is I’m wearing? How did I get here?”
    “How much do you remember?” asked Snow.
    He frowned. “Snow, isn’t it? You’re one of my mother’s personal attendants. How did you—”
    “Armand, please,” said Danielle.
    “I was in Emrildale. I remember taking a drink at the tavern, and everything else is like a dream.” His face grew even redder. “Your stepsister, Stacia. I remember... I kissed her, didn’t I? Oh, Danielle. Forgive me, I don’t know how—”
    “Stacia and Charlotte cast a spell,” Danielle said. “It wasn’t your fault.”
    “We’re in Fairytown,” Talia added, wading back to the shore. “The river’s clear.”
    “Talia was afraid the Duchess would arrange some kind of ambush,” Snow said. She leaned toward the prince as