The Stepsister Scheme

the earth.
    “This is similar to the summoning spell your stepsisters cast. If my magic is stronger, it should draw the creature from the tree.” She frowned. “I think it’s a demon of some sort. Ethereal, which means it probably came from one of the lower dimensions. Maybe a Myrakkhan, or possibly a Chirka, though they’re not really in season. They usually hibernate through the spring and summer. Still, they—”
    “The spell, Snow,” said Talia.
    By the time she finished, frost circled most of the garden. The words curved round and round, shrinking as they returned to the starting point by the tree.
    Snow gave a sheepish shrug. “I always run out of room at the end. I start out writing too big, and then—”
    “Will it work?” asked Danielle.
    “Sure.” Snow brought her hands together. “Your stepsisters did the hard work, bringing the demon into our dimension. Now that he’s here, all I need to do is call him, and he’ll be trapped within the bounds of the spell.” She gave a short, sharp whistle. “Come here, boy. Come here, little fire demon.”
    Talia raised an eyebrow.
    The branches of the hazel began to shake, and withered leaves floated to the ground, but nothing else happened.
    “It’s fighting me,” Snow said. Her lower lip protruded slightly, hinting at a pout.
    “I thought your summoning spell would force it out,” Danielle said.
    “Not the demon.” Snow stopped to wipe sweat from her forehead. “The tree. Your mother is the one fighting me.”
    “Why would she fight us?” Talia asked.
    Snow turned to study Danielle. “Your mother, did she know magic?”
    “No.” Her answer came out more sharply than she intended. “Why would you ask that?”
    “Asks the girl whose mother lives in a tree,” said Talia.
    Snow rubbed her neck. “If she didn’t study witchcraft, she might not know what we’re doing. The last time someone performed magic here, they loosed a fire demon on her. Don’t worry, I’ll get it.”
    “She knows me,” Danielle whispered. No matter what Charlotte and Stacia had done to her, she would know Danielle.
    “Let me try,” Talia said. To the tree, she shouted, “Get out of that tree, you hell-spawned bastard!”
    “Neither Chirka nor Myrakkhans come from hell,” Snow said. “And I didn’t see any of the ingredients the stepsisters would have needed to summon a proper hellhound.”
    Danielle did her best to ignore them. Why wouldn’t her mother let them help? She had to know Danielle was here, that they were trying to save her. “What is it I don’t see?”
    Smoke began to rise from the center of the tree. She could smell the wood smoldering. Soon the entire tree would be in flames. “Snow, stop! You’re killing her.”
    “I can’t,” said Snow. “The spell is already cast.”
    With a cracking sound that made Danielle think of breaking bone, the base of the tree began to split. Those branches that remained bent away from the crack, as if they sought to rip the tree in half. Which may have been precisely what the demon intended.
    “That’s it,” Snow said. “Into the circle, little demon.”
    “The circle,” Danielle whispered. She dropped to all fours, studying the circle where it passed closest to the tree. “Snow, look!”
    Snow stepped back. “Uh-oh.”
    One of the hazel’s blackened roots had poked through the mud, destroying a portion of Snow’s spell. Danielle and Talia both dragged Snow away from the tree as the branches exploded in fire. Claws and teeth splintered the wood as an enormous wolf dug itself free. Its fur was a dirty gray, like old ash. Orange-and-blue flames rippled along its body. They were brightest along the back, reminding Danielle of a dog with raised hackles.
    “It is a Chirka,” Snow said. “A big one, too. What did they sacrifice to bring one here at this time of year?”
    Talia bounded toward the gate. She slid through the mud, arms outstretched for balance, then spun like a dancer. One hand snagged the bucket, flinging the water squarely into the wolf’s face.
    Clouds of steam burst from its fur. Talia whirled and threw the bucket itself, which shattered on the wolf’s head. The wolf shook, spraying dirt and sparks in every direction.
    “Bad Chirka,” Snow snapped. Her choker flashed, slowly re-creating the broken symbol in the dirt. “I’m almost ready.”
    The wolf ignored her, slinking around the edge of the circle. Glowing orange eyes never left Danielle.
    The second water pot