The Stepsister Scheme

hands, and don’t let go, not unless you want to spend your final days spitted like a pig.”
    Danielle twined her fingers with the goblin’s. His hand was cool to the touch, rough with calluses and warts. His black nails were bitten ragged and scratched her wrist. Snow took Danielle’s other hand, and Talia came last, having thrown their bags over one shoulder.
    “Come on,” Diglet said. He ducked beneath the first vine and began walking through the hedge. “Mind your step. The thorns know me, so they won’t go out of their way to skewer you. But if you step on one, it’ll go right through your foot, and once those babies go in, they don’t come out.”
    Danielle hunched and twisted, trying to watch every direction at once. Sharp thorns caught her sleeve, but they didn’t break the skin. A thorn like a curved sword tangled her hair, then flexed back on itself, allowing her to slide free.
    “Don’t worry, that’s just the hedge’s way of reminding you who’s boss,” Diglet said. “So long as you’re with me, you’re safe. Probably.”
    Danielle clutched the goblin’s hand more tightly, both for protection and for balance. The vines were thickest on the ground, and it would be easy to fall as she turned and twisted after Diglet.
    The air was darker here, and it carried a foul smell, like spoiled meat. She saw a line of black ants crawling up a vine as thick as her wrist. A thorn had broken away, and the ants swarmed over a crust of dried sap that looked like an old scab. Occasionally she saw bones or scraps of metal, though there were fewer and fewer the farther they penetrated.
    “That’s Yamma the ogre,” Diglet said, pointing to a huge skull hanging on an equally huge thorn. “He plotted against the fairy queen. When she found out, he tried to flee. She let him get halfway through the hedge, then turned it against him. Not an easy death, but old Yamma makes a good landmark. It’s easy to get turned about in here, you know.”
    Behind her, Danielle could hear Snow whispering. She glanced back. Snow was talking to Talia, who had her eyes squeezed shut. Both of Talia’s hands clamped around Snow’s wrist.
    “We’re almost there,” Snow murmured. “You’re doing great.” She pressed close to Talia. Danielle moved her hand to Snow’s shoulder as Snow reached for the bags. “Stop for a moment, there’s a thorn caught on one of the straps... there you go.”
    “Thank you.” Talia’s voice was so strained Danielle barely recognized it.
    Snow squeezed her arm. “I’ll burn this hedge to the ground before I let it have you.”
    Diglet was still pointing out various sights and landmarks: an oversized beehive suspended between two thorns, a vine that had broken under its own weight, with smaller vines coiling up from the exposed ends... . “Hey, look at that. A hedge cat!”
    Danielle looked up to see a slender gray cat slinking along the upper vines. The cat’s long tail twitched furiously with each step.
    “They hunt the birds and squirrels who nest in the hedge,” Diglet said. “Most cats stay near the edges, but the hunting is better the farther in you go.”
    “Has anyone else passed through here recently?” Danielle asked. “Two human women, probably accompanied by a man.”
    “Not through here,” Diglet said. “Not since I took over for Pirrok, at any rate. They might have gone around to the king’s side, but you’d have to ask the dwarves about that.”
    “And there’s no other way in to Fairytown?”
    “Not unless they want to climb up from the chasm.” Diglet gave a mock shiver. “That way carries dangers to make the hedge look as cozy as your very own bed. Come up on the queen’s side of the cliff, and likely as not you’ll find yourself in the labyrinth. The king’s side is even worse. The dragon’s nest is on that side. More sun over there, you see.”
    The vines had begun to thin, and Danielle could see patches of orange sky overhead. How long had they walked through the hedge? The thorns grew shorter as Diglet pulled them along. Purple-and-red buds sprinkled the vines. A few more steps, and the buds were fully bloomed flowers, each one the size and shape of a teacup. They smelled like fresh honey.
    “Mind your step,” said Diglet. “It wouldn’t do to get yourself impaled this close to the edge.” He hopped over a fat vine as thick as his body, drawing Danielle and the others after him.
    The tangle of vines beneath her feet gave way to hard