The Stepsister Scheme (8 page)

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Authors: Jim C. Hines

BOOK: The Stepsister Scheme
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“I thought your summoning spell would force it out,” Danielle said.
“Not the demon.” Snow stopped to wipe sweat from her forehead. “The tree. Your mother is the one fighting me.”
“Why would she fight us?” Talia asked.
Snow turned to study Danielle. “Your mother, did she know magic?”
“No.” Her answer came out more sharply than she intended. “Why would you ask that?”
“Asks the girl whose mother lives in a tree,” said Talia.
Snow rubbed her neck. “If she didn’t study witchcraft, she might not know what we’re doing. The last time someone performed magic here, they loosed a fire demon on her. Don’t worry, I’ll get it.”
“She knows me,” Danielle whispered. No matter what Charlotte and Stacia had done to her, she would know Danielle.
“Let me try,” Talia said. To the tree, she shouted, “Get out of that tree, you hell-spawned bastard!”
“Neither Chirka nor Myrakkhans come from hell,” Snow said. “And I didn’t see any of the ingredients the stepsisters would have needed to summon a proper hellhound.”
Danielle did her best to ignore them. Why wouldn’t her mother let them help? She had to know Danielle was here, that they were trying to save her. “What is it I don’t see?”
Smoke began to rise from the center of the tree. She could smell the wood smoldering. Soon the entire tree would be in flames. “Snow, stop! You’re killing her.”
“I can’t,” said Snow. “The spell is already cast.”
With a cracking sound that made Danielle think of breaking bone, the base of the tree began to split. Those branches that remained bent away from the crack, as if they sought to rip the tree in half. Which may have been precisely what the demon intended.
“That’s it,” Snow said. “Into the circle, little demon.”
“The circle,” Danielle whispered. She dropped to all fours, studying the circle where it passed closest to the tree. “Snow, look!”
Snow stepped back. “Uh-oh.”
One of the hazel’s blackened roots had poked through the mud, destroying a portion of Snow’s spell. Danielle and Talia both dragged Snow away from the tree as the branches exploded in fire. Claws and teeth splintered the wood as an enormous wolf dug itself free. Its fur was a dirty gray, like old ash. Orange-and-blue flames rippled along its body. They were brightest along the back, reminding Danielle of a dog with raised hackles.
“It
is
a Chirka,” Snow said. “A big one, too. What did they sacrifice to bring one here at this time of year?”
Talia bounded toward the gate. She slid through the mud, arms outstretched for balance, then spun like a dancer. One hand snagged the bucket, flinging the water squarely into the wolf’s face.
Clouds of steam burst from its fur. Talia whirled and threw the bucket itself, which shattered on the wolf’s head. The wolf shook, spraying dirt and sparks in every direction.
“Bad Chirka,” Snow snapped. Her choker flashed, slowly re-creating the broken symbol in the dirt. “I’m almost ready.”
The wolf ignored her, slinking around the edge of the circle. Glowing orange eyes never left Danielle.
The second water pot smashed into the wolf. The water clearly annoyed the demon, but it didn’t seem to cause any real harm. Neither did the knife which followed, sinking into the wolf’s throat. The wolf nipped at the hilt, but its jaws wouldn’t reach. With a snarl, it crouched and sprang at Danielle.
Talia was faster, grabbing Danielle’s wrist and flinging her toward the tree. As Danielle fell, she saw Talia twist out of the demon’s way, barely avoiding the burning jaws of the Chirka. It slid through the mud where Danielle had been standing. Mud sprayed everywhere as it fought to recover.
“A bit of magic would be nice right about now,” Talia shouted.
“What, you finally met something you couldn’t just bludgeon into submission?” Snow knelt at the edge of the circle. The hazel roots had receded back into the earth, and Danielle could see the frost creeping through the soil. “Danielle, the spell is ready. Lure the Chirka into the circle!”
“Won’t I be trapped, too?” Danielle yelled.
“Oops!” Her mirrors brightened, hastily adjusting several of the glyphs. “Sorry.”
The wolf snarled and crept toward the tree where Danielle stood. Strings of drool swung from its jaws. Several times it lunged and snapped, ripping branches with its jaws, but it always drew back before reaching Danielle.
Danielle pressed deeper against the tree. The burnt wood smell made her eyes water, and she cringed each time she heard another branch snap.
The wolf was between her and the circle, but as long as she stayed here, enveloped by her mother’s branches, the wolf seemed reluctant to attack.
Instead, it went after Snow. It leaped past Talia, knocking her back into the fence before bounding around the circle. Snow yelped and stepped to the side, trying to keep the spell between her and the wolf.
The wolf was too fast. Another bound and it was close enough to catch her. Teeth bared, it pounced.
Talia slammed her shoulder into the wolf’s midsection, driving it toward the circle. It landed at the edge, off-balance. Snow drew back one leg and kicked it hard in the nose.
Sharp teeth caught the edge of Snow’s dress. With a jerk of its head, the wolf tossed Snow into her own circle, then stumbled away.
“You wanted its attention,” Talia said. Her shirt smoldered where she had hit the demon, but she didn’t seem to notice. She drew another knife and pointed it at the wolf’s throat. Not that it would do much good. Talia’s other knife was still protruding from the wolf’s neck.
“Mother, please. . . .” Danielle whispered. She didn’t know what else to ask. A gown and glass slippers were one thing, but what could she do against a demon?
The wolf leaped again. Talia planted the second knife in its throat, but as before, it barely noticed. All four paws slammed into Talia, smashing her against the house like a doll. Then the wolf sprang away from Talia and raced toward Danielle, so fast she didn’t have time to move. Danielle held her breath, turning her face away as that huge, flaming body filled her vision.
Heat seared her skin, but the wolf didn’t reach her. Charred and broken, the remaining branches of the hazel tree had stretched past Danielle to seize the demon’s struggling body, wrenching the jaws back from her face. She could smell its breath, like rotten eggs, as white-hot teeth snapped for her throat.
Danielle jabbed her knife into the wolf’s mouth. It bit down, wrenching the knife from her hand and flinging it into the mud. The heat seared her fingers. Her sleeve smoked as she pulled back, trying to press deeper into the safety of the tree.
The wolf still struggled. Branches and leaves began to burn anew, and with every lurch, the wolf came closer to Danielle. Her mother was too weak to hold it for much longer.
Danielle flexed her hand. The skin was red, blisters already beginning to form between her thumb and finger. “Let it go, Mother. Don’t let it take you, too.”
Something sparkled in the branches to her right. At first, it looked like a shard of ice. Desperately, she reached through the burning leaves, and her fingers closed around the hilt of a sword. The blade was as long as her arm, a thin, flat shard of crystal or glass.
The wolf caught one of the largest branches in its jaws and twisted, ripping it from the tree and freeing itself from her mother’s grip.
Without thinking, Danielle brought the blade through the branches and shoved it into the wolf’s side.
The wolf yelped and backed away. Danielle followed, pushing the sword deeper, driving the demon toward Snow’s circle. Snow stood on the other side, clapping her hands and calling the demon.
It darted to one side, whining as the blade ripped free. Danielle swung the sword in a wide arc, slicing a clean gash along the side of the wolf’s throat and forcing it into the circle.
The Chirka stumbled, then struggled to raise its head. It looked confused. The jaw hung open, as if it could no longer work the muscles to close it. It tried to step out of the circle, then fell back as if it had hit a stone wall. The demon’s dark blood steamed as it hit the soil.
“Got you,” Snow said triumphantly.
Danielle dropped the sword. Turning her back on the wolf, she hurried over to the smoldering ruin of her mother’s tree. Most of the leaves were gone, and those branches that hadn’t broken were black from the heat. Small flames still burned along the roots.
When Danielle reached out to touch the trunk, she felt nothing but lifeless wood.

 

CHAPTER 4
S
OFT HANDS GUIDED Danielle toward the well. Snow eased Danielle’s blistered hand into a pot of cool water, one of the few pots that hadn’t been destroyed in the fighting.
“No,” said Danielle. She tried to grab the pot, to take it to her mother’s tree, but Snow held fast. She was stronger than she looked.
“She’s gone,” said Snow. “I’m sorry. Leave your hand in the water while I tend to Talia. I have a salve that will help your burns, but I need to treat her wounds first.”
“What’s to tend?” Talia said, flexing her arm. The upper part of her sleeve was a tattered, blackened mess. Her arm was red, but the burns weren’t as serious as the one on Danielle’s hand. Lines of blood marked her chest and stomach where the demon’s claws had cut her skin. “It’s a fire demon. The wounds cauterize themselves. I’ll be fine.”
Snow folded her arms. “You’ve got mud and who knows what other filth in those cuts. Either I tend them today, or I wait until they turn septic and you’re too delirious to protest. Which would you prefer?”
Talia grimaced and sat against the wall of the house. Snow was already rummaging through her satchel. She produced a curved silver needle and a length of glimmering white thread, which she set to one side.
“You have no idea how much I despise needles,” Talia muttered.
Their words barely registered. Danielle averted her face from the remains of her mother’s tree, but the acrid smell of smoke drove it home with every breath. She could still feel the embrace of the branches as the tree struggled to protect her.
This was her fault. She had retreated to the tree, drawing the demon after her. Her eyes blurred. “I’m sorry, Mother.”
Motion at the corner of the house snapped Danielle from her thoughts. Erik stood staring from the shadows, his face pale. He started when he saw her watching him.
“Danielle?” he whispered. He looked back at the demon, who lay unmoving in the circle. The flames had died, and it almost appeared to be a normal wolf, albeit a thoroughly charred one. “I heard the noise. I thought Hunter was fighting with another stray. I came back here—”
“It’s all right,” Danielle said. “I think it’s dead.”
“How did a wolf get—” His eyes widened, and his fear seemed to disappear between one heartbeat and the next. “Wow. Is that a magic sword?”
Danielle rolled her eyes. “Erik, who’s minding your father’s shop?”
“Oh, bugger,” Erik said. He turned to go, then hesitated. “You know, there have been a lot of stories since you left. I wanted to say . . . I mean, we didn’t know how bad. . . . I’m glad you’re free. From your stepmom, I mean. And, hey, are you really a princess now?”
Danielle nodded. “If you keep quiet about me being here, I’ll bring you something from the palace the next time I visit.”
“Really?” He grinned so hard it looked like his cheeks would split. “Your secret will never pass these lips. My word on it, Princess.”
Once he was gone, Danielle reached down to retrieve the sword that was her mother’s final gift. The blade was perfectly smooth, sloping to a razor-sharp edge on either side. Bits of charred fur and blood still coated the glass. She pulled her hand from the water and used her damp sleeve to wipe away the gore.
The simplicity of the slender blade made the design of the hilt more impressive. The glass of the grip was tinged green, cast in the rough bark pattern of the hazel tree. Thin lines of wood were inlaid in the glass, spiraling around the handle for a better grip.
The “roots” at the pommel wrapped around a sky-blue sphere of glass. Twin branches formed the crossguard. The hilt fit her hand perfectly, and the touch of the wood seemed to soothe her burns.
She raised the sword to the sun. Deep inside, just above the guard, she thought she could make out the shape of a hazel leaf, as if it had been etched within the glass.
The sword was just as beautiful as the gown and slippers her mother had provided. She wiped her face with her free hand, then rested the sword across her legs.
“Now do you understand why I didn’t want you along?” Talia asked.
Snow made a
tsk
sound as she swabbed ointment over Talia’s wounds. “She did kill the Chirka.”
“She would have died if we hadn’t been here to save her.” Talia looked away as Snow threaded her needle. “No disrespect, Your Highness, but you don’t know how to protect yourself. Snow and I can find your husband. Go back to the—Dammit, that stings!”

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