The Stepsister Scheme

beside the fish pool. To one side, in the shadows where the pool touched the wall, a bit of wood and plaster had been gnawed away, opening a slender crack.
    It had taken Danielle more than a week to duplicate her feat back at the cave, speaking to the animals without words. The first to respond had been a mangy black rat who was missing most of his tail.
    Since then, she had managed to befriend four more rats. They were timid creatures, terrified of the darklings who roamed the corridors, but Danielle had earned their trust. She told them when it was safe to sneak in and eat the crumbs from Charlotte’s bed, or warned them about the arsenic-laced meats and cheese left in the corners.
    It was Charlotte who did that duty, whining at great length every time she had to replace the poisoned bait. Despite the curse, Stacia was still too suspicious to trust Danielle with poisons.
    Too suspicious, and yet not suspicious enough.
    Two rats responded to Danielle’s call, squeezing through the crack and darting into the relative darkness beneath the bed. One was her tailless friend. The other was younger, her black fur sleek and oily. Both were thin and hungry.
    Go ahead, Danielle said, glancing at Charlotte’s abandoned meal. The rats didn’t hesitate, racing to the plate and using their front paws to pack their cheeks with smashed flakes of fish meat.
    Danielle worked while they ate, waiting until they had devoured their fill. It’s time.
    As one, the rats disappeared again. Danielle scrubbed the floors while she waited. She prayed as she worked, asking for help and forgiveness both.
    When the rats returned, Danielle’s eyes watered with gratitude. They dragged a filthy handkerchief Danielle recognized as belonging to Stacia. They quickly opened the handkerchief to reveal hard, moldy nuggets of poisoned cheese. Until this moment, she hadn’t been certain the rats were following her instructions. Now all she needed was to find a way to return that poison to her stepsister.
    Danielle stood, wincing at the pain in her back. She searched the room as she straightened the bedcovers. Perhaps the pillows? Would arsenic work through skin contact? Better for Stacia to consume it directly, but how could Danielle’s rats slip the old cheese into her food without being noticed?
    Stacia’s knife. Day after day, Stacia drew her own blood to work her magic.
    The rats were already moving. The younger one hopped onto the altar and braced the knife with her paws. The older one began rubbing his bit of cheese back and forth along the dark, bloody blade.
    Be careful, Danielle said.
    Soon the rats traded places, smearing more poison onto the edge. There was justice here. Stacia would be the one to use the poisoned blade on herself. It would be her own choice, her willingness to practice dark magic that killed her.
    If the poison worked. If the rats had amassed enough to kill a grown woman.
    Danielle gathered up the remains of the fish, then looked around for anything else to clean. With the exception of the altar, the room was spotless, which meant she had no excuse to remain.
    The rats had already returned with more poison. Wash yourselves in the pool when you’ve finished, especially your paws. Eat nothing until you’ve bathed.
    She hoped the water would dilute any remaining poison enough that it wouldn’t hurt the fish.
    As she left the room, she closed her eyes. Forgive me, Mother. All those years, she had tried to obey her mother’s final words, to remain pious and good. Not once had she fought back against her tormenters. Now she would murder her own stepsister.
    I have to protect my son. Surely he k
    Despite everything, guilt and doubt shadowed her as she headed toward Charlotte’s room to finish cleaning. The baby kicked again as she shut the door, and then there was only guilt.

    CHAPTER 12
    Danielle dumped the last of the boiling water into a great pot, then began hauling Brahkop’s clothes across the room. She only managed to fit three pair of trousers and one shirt into the pot before the water slopped over the edge. She glanced at the remaining pile and sighed. She’d be up all night trying to get everything clean.
    She grabbed a paddle and began to stir, mixing the soap and the clothes together. Blue sparks in the water flickered as she stirred, the only source of light in the small room. Whatever magic caused the water to glow, boiling did nothing to stop it.
    More water splashed onto her feet. Wonderful. For the rest