The Stepsister Scheme

chimneys. Ought to get a little more air moving soon.” He looked sheepish. “I broiled up some rice and kraken last night. Old undine recipe. Spicy enough to burn the tongue out of your head, but the smell gets into everything.”
    “Sounds like your kind of food,” Snow said to Talia.
    Talia ignored her. “Where are we?”
    “Home. The bedroom, to be precise. Where else would I go with four lovely ladies in tow?” He pointed to Charlotte. “Just make sure that one stays tied up. Too bloodthirsty for my taste.”
    “And you’re too short and ugly for mine,” said Charlotte.
    “Take her necklace,” Danielle said. “I’m not sure what it is, but it helps her cast her spells.”
    “Done.” Talia yanked the stone from around Charlotte’s neck and handed it to Snow. She gripped Charlotte above the elbow and turned back to Arlorran. “I meant where in Fairytown.”
    “Ten, maybe fifteen miles west of the goblin checkpoint,” said Arlorran. “Right on the border between gnomish land and the woods the satyrs claim as their own.” He winked at Snow. “They say I’ve got satyr blood in me. Did I ever tell you that? Some say it makes me hardheaded, but there are other traits, if you know what I mean.”
    Charlotte wrinkled her nose and turned away. “This is little better than a rathole.”
    Danielle looked around. Arlorran’s home appeared to be a small cave. They had arrived in the center of the bedroom, where the domed ceiling was highest, and even here Danielle’s head almost brushed the stone. Pink quartz lined the walls and ceiling, sparkling in the light of Snow’s choker.
    Danielle peered more closely at one patch of quartz. What she had first taken to be jagged irregularities in the rock were really carvings: dragons and horses and fairies and castles, most no bigger than her thumb, all carved with excruciating detail. “They’re marvelous. Did you do this?”
    Arlorran nodded, grinning. “That one to your left there shows me and the queen, the day she appointed me Royal Summoner. There you go, the one with the gold wire around her head. Best I could do for a crown.”
    All the carvings were inverted, so they appeared to be standing on the ceiling. Danielle craned her head, studying the tiny figures. The smaller of the two resembled Arlorran with a shorter beard. The larger was a well-built woman with a long, flowing gown. A line of gold around her brow provided one of the only details not carved from the quartz.
    “You need to lie down to see them properly,” Arlorran said, pointing to the bed. He hopped onto the low mattress and patted the quilts. “Care to join me? I’ll show you all kinds of marvels.”
    Snow giggled and jumped on to the bed beside him, landing so hard she bounced him to the floor. The light of her choker made her face even paler than normal, like a ghost. “Look, Talia. Griffins!” She pointed to the wall, where a flock of griffins appeared to fly in a V formation.
    “Do you think we could question the would-be assassin before we admire the art?” Talia asked. “Have you figured out what that necklace is yet?”
    “It’s blood-bound to Charlotte and one other, I’m not sure who,” Snow said.
    “Stacia?” Danielle guessed.
    “No.” She held the stone to the light. “It’s a teaching trick, a way to help a young witch learn. The stone is bound to whoever has been helping Charlotte with her magic.”
    “Did the troll give this to you?” Danielle asked. Charlotte pressed her lips together and turned away.
    “Snow, can you use that rock to find whoever’s been teaching her?” Talia asked.
    Snow shook her head. “Not unless she’s actually using it, and I don’t think we Son’
    “Summoning magic.” Arlorran brushed himself off and walked over to sit on a small trunk by the wall.
    Snow frowned. “I thought you could only summon others, or enchant them to respond to a summons, like you did with Diglet.”
    Arlorran stared at the carvings on the far wall. “Aren’t there places that call to you, Princess? Places you belong?”
    “My library,” said Snow.
    Danielle thought of her father’s house, the way it had been before he remarried. Full of color, the sunlight sparkling from vases and bottles and window-panes of all shapes and sizes. The smell of the smoke, the way the air rippled when he stoked the fire to blow a new vase.
    “Only a few places I can summon myself to and from. The Tipsy Oak’s one. The queen’s palace is another.