The Stepsister Scheme

be back on solid earth.”
    “They’ll return to us on their own,” Quink called. “Just say ‘Home’ once you’ve reached your destination.”
    Danielle started to ask how she and her companions were supposed to get back, then realized it didn’t matter. If they found Armand, they could contact Beatrice to arrange for help through the fairy court. If not... .
    “Thank you,” Danielle said. She turned to look at Arlorran. “And you,” she added.
    “Remember what I told you,” Arlorran said. “And don’t forget about my wings!”

    As they climbed toward the clouds, Danielle found herself trembling. The pixies were little more than sparks, and a single strong wind could toss Danielle to the ground. Very soon, though, something within her surrendered to the inevitable. If she fell, she fell. There was nothing to do but trust Wind to keep her safe.
    Fear faded, giving way to a dreamlike sense of excitement. The cold night air chilled Danielle’s skin, even as Wind’s skin grew warmer from her exertions. This was so much more vivid than the flight from the palace, when she had been tucked away in Karina’s basket. The air buffeted her face, ruffling her shirt and flinging her hair back in tangled streamers.
    “Look at the moons,” Danielle shouted. The wind sucked her words away, but the aviar appeared to hear, banking left in order to give Danielle a better view of the twin crescents. The moons faced one another, twin disks of silver and gold, the edges nearly touching.
    She twisted back, searching for the dark shapes of the dwarven towers. The hedge disappeared into the distance. She had never understood how huge Fairytown was. She glanced to the east, where enormous rooftops poked through the trees.
    “Giants,” Snow shouted. She grinned and steered her aviar closer to Danielle. “The elves are the only ones who can grow trees large enough for the giants to use to build their homes. In return, the giants don’t eat the elves.”
    Talia and Socks flew past on Danielle’s right. “Come on,” Talia yelled. “You can have your fill of sightseeing once we’ve found Armand.” Her aviar pulled ahead, wings pounding.
    Danielle and Wind followed. Sudden exuberance made Danielle giggle as they flew, so high and swift and free . She lowered her body and breathed in the musky, nutty scent of the aviar. She could have ridden like this forever.
    And then Wind began to sweat. She didn’t notice until they caught up to Snow. Danielle pulled her hand away to wave. The instant her arm left the aviar’s fur, the wind chilled her damp sleeve, making her shiver.
    Soon, salty aviar sweat soaked her arms and the front of her shirt, and she could feel it seeping into her trousers. She pressed herself closer to Wind for warmth. The wiry fur was slick and damp, and the mane kept sticking to her face, but the air was too cold to draw away.
    The land below crawled past, marked by specks of campfires and lanterns. But the wind on her skin told her they were moving faster than any horse.
    Up ahead, a wisp of cloud moved against the wind, sparkling like the sea as it undulated toward them. Danielle’s aviar let out a long, quavering scream. The other aviars did the same.
    “Cloud strider,” Talia shouted. She tugged her reins, steering Socks away. “Warning us away from the palace.”
    Danielle turned her head. The black towers of the fairy king’s palace were harder to see in the darkness. The silver bridge lay beyond, and she could see the lights of the queen’s palace on the far side. Her own aviar turned to follow Talia. Danielle saw a quick flicker of lightning from the cloud strider, illuminating the long, winged form from within, and then it was flying back to the mass of clouds overhead.
    “Land on the queen’s side,” Talia yelled. “If your stepsisters are traveling on foot, we will have beaten them. We should be able to follow them down.”
    “How?” Down below, the chasm stretched away for miles in either direction. “They could be anywhere. We can’t guard the whole width of Fairytown!”
    “Says who?” Snow called, grinning like a child. She was already guiding Midnight over the chasm. Far below, the river reflected broken shards of moonlight.
    Danielle shivered and leaned closer to Wind. Her thighs and lower legs were cramped and chapped, and her backside throbbed with every beat of the great wings.
    The edge of the chasm was thick with a kind of flowering willow tree. From a distance,