The Stepsister Scheme

Talia.
    “Fine. We need your help, Arlorran,” Snow said. Before the gnome could answer, she twisted onto the bench beside him and said, “ Not that kind of help.”
    Danielle sat down on his other side. She had to hold the edge to keep from slipping off, and the handle of her sword jabbed her ribs.
    “Athletic, aren’t you?” said Arlorran. He gave Talia an appreciative smile as she sat beside Snow. The bench creaked slightly under their combined weight, but the wood was stronger than it appeared. “My lucky day. Yours, too, and that’s a fact.”
    “I’m married,” Danielle said.
    “’S good. You’ll know what you’re doing, then. I’ve no time for amateurs.”
    “This is your contact in Fairytown?” Talia asked. “A drunken, crippled old gnome?”
    Arlorran’s brow furrowed. “’M not crippled.”
    “Touch my leg again, and you will be.”
    “No need for that,” Arlorran said. He downed the rest of his drink, then tossed the empty cup into the air. A streak of purple light shot through the bar, resolving into a pixie woman who caught the cup in both hands.
    “Bring me another,” Arlorran said. “My friends are buying.”
    Gritting her teeth, Talia reached into a pocket and tossed a silver coin to the pixie, who caught it in the cup and disappeared.
    “You should have told me you were coming for a visit,” Arlorran said. He picked at the burned patch on his beard.
    “I tried!” Snow said. “You stopped answering, remember?”
    “True enough, true enough. I’ve been preoccupied these past few weeks. I’m surprised you haven’t forgotten all about old Arlorran.”
    Snow plucked his beard from his hands and curled it through her fingers. “Now how could I forget such a cute little gnome?”
    Arlorran chuckled and turned to Danielle. “So you’re the one.” He bent to look at her boots, and might have fallen if Danielle hadn’t grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back. “Don’t look like glass to me.”
    Snow shrugged. “He wanted me to tell him about the wedding. He sounds like a lecherous old man, but he’s really a romantic sap.”
    Arlorran shook his head. “Sorry, lass. I’m lecherous through and through. Happy to prove it to you.”
    “Snow said you could help us,” Danielle said.
    “Maybe. Who is it you’re trying to find?”
    Danielle glanced at Talia and Snow. “How did you know we were looking for someone?”
    “I’m the Royal Summoner for Her Majesty the Queen.” Arlorran straightened. “It’s what I do. My gift from the gods, if you will. Most of the time, it’s nothing more than enchanting a new goblin so folks can call him to lead them through the hedge.”
    The purple pixie returned with Arlorran’s drink.
    “Thanks, Fraxxle,” said Arlorran. He took a deep swallow, then sighed. “I do special assignments for the queen herself, along with the occasional freelance job. When the price is right. Summoning a dryad across the chasm to frolic with the satyrs, for instance. Tragic, that chasm your people made. The dryads wound up on the king’s side, while the queen kept the satyrs for herself. They sneak across the bridge sometimes, but my way’s quicker and safer.”
    “Does that mean you’ll help us?” Danielle asked.
    “For such lovely women as yourselves, I might be able to assist you, for a small fee. Maybe something like—”
    Talia reached around to pluck the cup from his hand. Ignoring his squawks, she took a quick sip, then said, “Think long and hard before you finish that sentence, gnome.”
    “Right.” Arlorran snorted, and his gaze went to Danielle’s stomach. His eyes lit up. “In that case, how about—”
    This time it was Danielle who interrupted. “If you ask me for my unborn child, I’ll have Talia stuff you into your own pipe.”
    “Humans,” muttered the gnome. “Some of you treat your kids like they’re dragon’s gold. Others trade their offspring for a good drink, or even a mediocre one. Speaking of which, I believe that’s mine.” He leaned over to grab his cup back from Talia. “And you still haven’t told me who it is you’re looking for.”
    “My husband,” said Danielle. She lowered her voice. The closest benches were empty, but who knew how acute the pixies’ hearing was. “Prince Armand.”
    Arlorran raised his cup. “A right bastard, leaving you in such a state. Now a gnomish man, he’s loyal to his mate. None of this sneaking away in the night, abandoning—”
    “He was