The Stepsister Scheme

was mumbling and pointing one hand at Talia. Danielle twisted around and smashed the flat of her blade down on Charlotte’s wrist. Charlotte screamed.
    “It’s your own fault for being so clumsy, you stupid cow,” said Stacia.
    “They took my necklace,” Charlotte shot back. “I’m doing the best I can.”
    “I know. That’s the sad part.” Stacia pointed to the bed, and one of the blankets twisted itself into a rope and coiled around Danielle’s waist. “That’s an interesting toy,” Stacia said. “One last gift from your dearly departed mother?”
    She crooked her finger, and the ends of the blanket whipped around Danielle’s arms. Danielle braced herself, twisting her wrists until the edge of the sword touched the blanket. The heavy material parted at the lightest touch, and the blanket dropped to the ground. She raised her sword to strike.
    Stacia’s eyes widened with fear, and Danielle hesitated.
    The shadow tackled her from the side. Cold hands clamped around her sword arm. Danielle saw Snow touch her choker, but before she could use her magic, Charlotte reached out with her good hand and grabbed Snow by the hair. Then Charlotte disappeared.
    “Stop summoning me, you stupid gnome!” Charlotte screamed from another room. Danielle could hear Arlorran giggling.
    Snow’s light drove the shadow off of Danielle. Her arm felt weak and heavy, but she wasn’t bleeding. She rolled to her side and stabbed the tip of her sword into the shadow’s leg.
    He let out a childlike scream, the first sound Danielle had heard him make, and scurried back to Stacia’s side. Stacia opened her mouth to cast another spell, then twisted away as Talia threw her knife. It ricocheted from the wall behind her.
    Stacia tried again, but Talia had already snatched the fallen candlestick and thrown it after the knife. The base caught Stacia in the side of the head. She dropped to her knees, and a line of blood trickled down her face.
    “So it’s only your friend who’s invulnerable,” Talia said. “Good to know.” She spun her sword and strode toward Stacia.
    The shadow darted around Stacia, putting himself between her and Talia.
    “Flank her,” Talia snapped to Danielle. “She can’t fight us both. Snow, get this half-grown wisp of darkness out of our way.”
    This time, though the shadow cowered from Snow’s light, he didn’t flee. He whimpered and looked up at Stacia, but refused to leave her side.
    Stacia touched her head where the candlestick had struck. Blood dripped freely, a gruesome mirror to the tattoo on the other side of her face. She wobbled as she backed toward the doorway.
    Danielle moved to intercept her. Black, oily blood marred the tip of her sword where she had struck the shadow.
    “Stacia, help me!” Charlotte shouted from the other room. “This stupid gnome keeps dancing about, summoning me this way and that. I’m going to be sick!”
    “Idiot,” Stacia mumbled. She brought her bloody fingers to her mouth and began to whisper.
    Another blanket snarled around Danielle’s legs. She swung her sword down, awkwardly trying to cut herself free. She succeeded, but nearly sliced her own foot in the process. Her arm was still weak from the shadow’s attack.
    Stacia had already turned to flee. Her body began to twist and shrivel back into its rat form. “Come!” she squeaked as she transformed. The shadow followed.
    Talia snatched her knife from the floor and threw. The blade spun straight toward Stacia, but again the shadow saved her.
    “Dammit,” Talia said, hurrying after the rats.
    Snow and Danielle followed Talia through the doorway, into a larger room with two iron-rimmed holes built into the walls. Danielle could see a pink tail disappearing into the closest hole. “Where’s Charlotte?”
    “Turned into a rat and scurried after the rest of ’em,” said Arlorran.
    “Can you seal the top of those chimneys from here?” Talia shouted.
    Arlorran ran to grab a small wheel to the left of the holes. He yanked his hands back the instant he touched it. He jammed his fingers into his mouth. “Hot as new-forged steel,” he shouted, his words muffled.
    Danielle sheathed her sword and ran back to the bedroom. She grabbed the torn blanket and wrapped it around her hands as she hurried toward the chimneys. Smoke rose from the blanket, and the smell of burning wool filled the room, but slowly the wheel began to turn.
    “It’s too late,” Arlorran said. “Only a short hop to the