The Stepsister Scheme

Danielle nudged one of the stones with her foot, she found it rooted in place as firmly as the palace walls back home.
    “A boundary wall,” said Snow. “Most of the fairy races build them. They’re very territorial. This marks the edge of goblin territory.”
    “Not much of a territory,” said Talia. “We haven’t been walking for very long.”
    Danielle glanced back at the road. “I wonder if we should go back. Diglet might know how to find Arlorran.”
    “I doubt it,” said Snow. “Goblins don’t really concern themselves with outsiders. Especially those of higher castes, like Arlorran.”
    Danielle stopped and switched her bag to the other shoulder. “What we need is—”
    “No!” Talia shouted.
    “—a guide,” Danielle finished. She blinked. “I don’t understand. What’s wrong?”
    Snow giggled. Talia rubbed her forehead and sighed.
    Before Danielle could ask again, a bobbing white light caught her attention. The light zoomed up the road, bouncing like a child’s toy. It moved faster than the swiftest horse.
    At the same time, a tall, pale-skinned man in old-style traveling clothes stepped out of the trees to their left. His silken tunic was tucked in at the waist, while his pants ballooned out over knee-high black boots. He tucked a polished walking stick beneath one arm, doffed a purple hat with a plume as tall as himself, and bowed low.
    On the other side of the road, a hunchbacked old woman sprang up from the grass. She brushed dirt and worms from her ragged clothing and smiled a toothless smile. Her left eye was rheumy and pointed off to one side.
    “Never ask for a guide in Fairytown,” Talia said.
    There were more. A toad the size of a dinner plate hopped onto the side of the road. Its warty body sagged over its legs, completely hiding the feet.
    A fox crept from between the trees close to the man. The fox studied the crowd, sniffed the air, and bared his teeth at the toad. As he started to creep across the road, the old woman swooped down and seized the scruff of his neck. The fox snarled and snapped, but she held him at arm’s length. Her free hand stroked the fox’s back and tail.
    “I could use a new scarf,” she said.
    “Ladies, welcome to Fairytown,” said the man. He bowed again. “My name is Timothy Stout, and I would be honored if you allowed me to lead you wherever—”
    The glowing ball slammed into Timothy Stout’s backside, sending him face first into the grass beside the road.
    “I take back what I said about not calling for a guide,” said Talia. “This is kind of fun.”
    Timothy rolled and smacked the end of his stick into the glowing ball, which flashed bright red and dropped to the ground.
    “You killed it,” said Danielle.
    “Not at all. I merely taught it a lesson.” Timothy tapped the ball again.
    Glowing feebly, the ball began to roll in a lopsided fashion, fleeing back down the road.
    A furious shriek drew Danielle’s attention back to the struggle between fox and hag. The fox had finally managed to twist around enough to sink his teeth into the old woman’s thumb. She flung him away, but he landed lightly on his feet and stared up at her with what Danielle could only describe as a smug grin.
    “Princesses, please forgive my companions.” The deep, rusty voice came from the toad, who had hopped into the middle of the road. “As a noble myself, let me urge you not to trust these ruffians. Their behavior is ill-fit for such ladies as yourselves, and—”
    Timothy tucked his stick beneath one arm and used both hands to grab the toad.
    “You see?” screamed the toad. “Hooligans, all!”
    Timothy raised the toad overhead.
    “Wait,” Danielle cried.
    He hesitated, and in that time, the toad struck back. Urine spread across the sleeve of Timothy’s finely tailored silk shirt. With a howl of outrage, Timothy flung the toad into the woods.
    “Stop it, all of you,” Danielle snapped.
    Timothy, the fox, and the old woman glared at one another, but none made any aggressive moves.
    “We’re looking for Arlorran the gnome,” Danielle said.
    “And I would be delighted to escort you,” Timothy said, extending his arm. The gesture would have been far more gallant if his cuff hadn’t been dripping with toad piss.
    The fox yipped, and when Danielle looked down, she would have sworn he winked at her.
    “Forget them,” said the old woman. She pointed to the fox. “This rascal will lead you to a trap and eat you, and as for this fellow