The Stepsister Scheme (4 page)
Read The Stepsister Scheme Online
Authors: Jim C. Hines
Talia grabbed a pillow from the bed and stuffed it into the window frame, blocking all but a slim crack of light. “Tell me about your stepsister. Has she always possessed such magic?”
“If she had, she would have turned me into a toad years ago.” Danielle glanced at the splintered remains of the stool. “She destroyed the stool without touching it, but she seemed almost surprised when it worked.”
Talia grabbed one leg of the stool, tucking it through her belt like a sword.
“What are you doing?”
Talia used her foot to sweep broken glass to one side. “Whatever magic your stepsister used, there might be traces of the spell we can use to learn more.”
“Are
you
a witch?” Danielle asked. The pigeon tried to flap his good wing. Danielle stroked the gray feathers and hummed a lullaby until he grew calm once more. “You knew I was in trouble. You got through the door, even though it was bolted from the inside.”
you
a witch?” Danielle asked. The pigeon tried to flap his good wing. Danielle stroked the gray feathers and hummed a lullaby until he grew calm once more. “You knew I was in trouble. You got through the door, even though it was bolted from the inside.”
Talia knelt by the dove’s body, gently prying a few feathers from the sticky blood. “I have a friend who knows a little magic. Don’t call her a witch, though. She doesn’t like that.” She slipped the bloody feathers into the pocket of her apron. “Did Charlotte say anything else about the prince?”
“Not until the wall. I don’t understand. Armand is supposed to be in Emrildale, negotiating with—”
“He’s not.” Talia studied the room one last time, then turned her full attention on Danielle. “I thought I told you to wait here while I went after your stepsister.”
Danielle lifted her head. “Yes, you did.”
The slightest hint of a smile tugged at Talia’s lips. “Leave the pigeon here. He should be safe enough, and there’s plenty of spilled food for him to eat.”
“No. He needs help.” Only then did it occur to her to ask, “Where are we going?”
Talia opened the door to the privy. “To visit my friend.”
Danielle didn’t move. “In the privy?”
“Yes.” Talia stepped into the dark confines, then beckoned for Danielle to follow. When Danielle still refused, she rolled her eyes and said, “She’s also a healer. She’ll be able to help your pet.”
“A healer who lives in the privy,” Danielle said again. When Talia didn’t answer, she shrugged and took a scarf from the trunk by the wall, using it to rig a simple sling. She set the pigeon inside.
“And you thought me strange for talking to birds,” Danielle muttered.
The smell of blood gave way to fouler things as she followed Talia into the privy. She blanched at the stench. The gutters channeled rainwater through the privies on the outer walls, washing away their contents, but it had been almost a week since the last rainfall. The incense she had burned yesterday evening did little to hide the stench. She had been back for close to a month, but her body had yet to fully adjust to the richness of palace food.
“Close the door,” said Talia.
Danielle obeyed. The only light came from two narrow, slitted windows at the top of the small chamber. She could just make out Talia’s slender form, sitting on the bench beside the leather-padded hole.
Talia patted the bench. “Reach inside.”
“Why?” She had cleaned worse things for her stepmother and stepsisters, but this was absurd.
“There’s nothing to fear,” said Talia. “Anything you might have . . . deposited has fallen two stories, where it can’t hurt you.”
“Who
are
you?” Danielle demanded.
are
you?” Danielle demanded.
“I’m the one who saved your life.”
That much was true. Holding the pigeon close to her chest, Danielle bent and stretched one hand into the hole. A ring of worn, padded leather cushioned the edge. She clenched her teeth, half expecting this to be some kind of trick, but nothing happened.
“Search the underside of the bench, the back left corner.”
The shaft beneath was square, which left four irregular triangles of stone beneath the bench. Gingerly, Danielle probed the corner Talia had indicated. Near the back edge, her fingers touched cold metal. A lever the size of her thumb protruded from the stone.
“Pull it,” said Talia.
The lever moved without a sound, and the wall behind them cracked open.
Danielle gasped, which was a mistake, given the foul air. She reached out to touch the wooden panel. The entire wall moved easily at her touch, swinging on oiled hinges concealed in the woodwork.
Talia chuckled and pulled the wall fully open, revealing a triangular pit. On the far side, Danielle could make out bronze rungs mounted to stone bricks.
“Does Armand know about this?” Danielle whispered, peering into the darkness.
“Only the queen and two others.” Talia put a hand on Danielle’s shoulder. “And if this were a trap, I would have tossed you down that pit, and nobody would ever know what had happened to Princess Danielle Whiteshore.”
Danielle’s shoulders tensed. She put one hand on the edge of the doorway and tried to spin around, but Talia caught her elbow. Talia’s other hand bent Danielle’s wrist, holding her immobile. She couldn’t turn without snapping her own arm.
“You’re helping Charlotte?” Danielle guessed.
“No. I’m helping you.” Talia let go. “You’re too trusting, Princess. You welcomed Charlotte into your bedroom. You barely survived one assassination attempt, and now you’re following a strange servant into the darkness.”
“You saved me,” Danielle said.
“Just because someone saves you doesn’t make them an ally.” Talia squeezed past Danielle, grabbed one of the rungs, and stepped onto the ladder. “Fortunately, I really am trying to keep you alive. I’d appreciate it if you did the same.”
With that, Talia began to sink into the darkness. “Pull the door closed behind you. You’ll hear a click when the latch catches.”
Danielle reached for the topmost rung. The metal was warmer than she had expected. She started to obey, then caught herself, remembering Talia’s warning. “How do we get back out?”
“That’s better,” said Talia. “There’s another lever inside the door.”
Danielle felt around until she located it. Only then did she pull herself onto the ladder and tug the door shut, sealing them in blackness. She closed her eyes, opened them again. It made no difference whatsoever. A quick tug of the lever opened the door again. “Where does this lead?”
“Only one way to find out, Princess.” Talia’s feet rang softly on the rungs as she descended.
Gritting her teeth, Danielle closed the door and followed.
The ladder seemed to descend forever. Danielle lost count at the forty-second or forty-third rung. The pigeon stirred twice, both times making her heart pound from the fear that it would fall. Her gown kept snagging on the rough-cut stone, and her knuckles were bruised and raw. At one point, she swore she felt something scurry past her fingers.
“Watch your step.” Talia’s voice sounded more distant, no longer directly beneath her.
A few more rungs, and Danielle’s feet touched hard-packed earth.
“Don’t move.”
There was no light. Danielle kept one hand on the ladder. “Where are we?”
“Far below the palace. Another twenty feet to the north, and you’d be swimming.”
A crack of white split the darkness, widening into an arched doorway. Danielle covered her face. After so much time in this pit, the light was as bright as the afternoon sun. She blinked, trying to clear her vision. Surely the blurring of her eyes deceived her.
“Princess Danielle. Welcome.” Beatrice Whiteshore, queen of Lorindar, gestured for Danielle to enter.
Danielle stared. “What are you doing at the bottom of my privy?”
“Waiting for you.” The queen stepped aside, smiling as Danielle stepped from a damp, dark underworld into a realm of luxury equal to anything she had seen in the palace.
The room was as large as Danielle’s own chamber. The walls were whitewashed wood, trimmed with gold. The floor was polished marble. But where her own room felt open and spacious, this place was . . . cluttered.
Black-lacquered bookshelves lined the wall to the left. Floor to ceiling, the shelves were packed with more books than Danielle had ever seen. On the opposite wall, weapons of every variety hung from velvet-padded hooks and pegs. There were swords, knives, bows and crossbows, spears and chains, sticks of every size, and many other items Danielle couldn’t begin to identify.
Oil-burning lamps sat in tiny stone niches in the wall. Curved disks of polished silver reflected the light into the room, making the steel weapons gleam.
Danielle’s attention was drawn to what looked like a flattened spindle which hung between an oversized ax and a chained, spiked club. The spindle resembled a wooden cross, with white cord wound around the long end. Talia picked it up and tested a loop of the cord. She gave a satisfied grunt, adjusted her grip on the handle, and flicked her wrist. A lead weight snapped out from the tip and thudded into the door, drawing the line behind it like a whip.
“What is that?” Danielle asked.
“Talia brought several unusual weapons with her when she arrived,” the queen explained.
“It’s an assassin’s weapon, a zaraq whip,” said Talia. She drew in a bit of the line, then thrust the bare wooden tip forward like a knife. “It’s not sharp, but a strike to the throat will leave a man helpless or dead, depending on how hard you attack.”
Danielle started to respond when a sparkle of color overhead caught her attention. A map of Lorindar covered the ceiling. The map was beautiful, a work of art to rival the mosaics in the throne room up above. Highways, rivers, and footpaths crisscrossed through woods and mountains. The palace was a clear crystal on the northeast tip of the island. The ocean shone like actual water.
When she looked closer, Danielle could make out the individual tiles of lapis lazuli that made up the seas. The blue tiles cut a line through the center of the island, marking the great chasm. Flakes of amethyst formed a wide ring across the chasm, outlining the boundaries of Fairytown. The Colwich Swamps to the south were a kind of dark jade. Lines of blood-red pebbles marked the roads, from the Coastal Highway along the west shore to the King’s Road leading southeast, to Dragon’s Port. She followed the roads, mentally retracing the journey she and Armand had taken.
A black shadow drifted away from the coast, near the palace. At first, Danielle took it for a spider, but closer examination showed it to be a tile of polished slate cut in the shape of a ship. “It’s moving!”
Talia finished winding the cord back around her whip. “Probably the
Sparrowhawk
. They weren’t scheduled to depart for another hour, but Captain Williamson has always been an early riser. Especially when he’s angered another local husband or brother.”
Sparrowhawk
. They weren’t scheduled to depart for another hour, but Captain Williamson has always been an early riser. Especially when he’s angered another local husband or brother.”
“Talia spends a great deal of time reviewing the state of the kingdom,” said the queen. She took Danielle’s arm and gently pulled her through the room. “Come, let me show you the rest of our little home beneath the castle.”
Danielle held the pigeon with one hand as she followed the queen through an archway in the far wall. The room beyond was even larger and more magnificent than the first. Danielle stumbled over a stone lip in the floor, but the queen caught her, supporting her weight with fingers far stronger than Danielle would have guessed.
Wooden trunks and barrels, faded with age, lined the wall to either side of the archway. Even more books filled the shelves above the trunks. The collection here was as vast as the royal library. The walls in this room were bare stone, and the air smelled of oil and preservatives. Thick blue-and-gold carpeting covered the floor, a luxury marred by numerous stains and burns.
On the wall to the left hung a mirror, taller than Danielle herself. Unlike the small hand mirrors she had seen around the palace, this one was liquid smooth.
The silvering was flawless. Not a single speck marred the surface to distinguish reality from reflection. Her father would have wept at such perfection.
The frame was cast of gleaming silver metal. Danielle saw no trace of tarnish, so it wasn’t likely to be silver. She knew better than most how hard it was to polish every nook of such a work. White gold? Could it possibly be platinum? It had been cast in the form of flowering vines crawling around the glass. Danielle reached one hand toward the glass. “This is a master-piece of glasswork. Where did it come from?”
“Please don’t touch that!” The reflection showed another woman hurrying into the room behind the queen.
“I’m sorry,” said Danielle. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
She could have said the same for this newcomer. Though she looked a few years older than Danielle, her smooth, pale face evoked the innocence of childhood. She wore men’s trousers tucked into high boots. A blue shirt draped her shoulders and made a half-hearted attempt to conceal the curve of her chest . . . though it would have had a better chance had she bothered to do up the laces. A polished silver pendant in the shape of a snowflake hung between her breasts. Danielle did her best not to look at it, or rather, at
them
.
them
.
Other books
Wishful Thinking by Lynette Sofras
Uncover Me by Chelle Bliss
A Question of Motive by Roderic Jeffries
Love's Sweet Discovery by KD Jones
Diary of a Painted Lady by Maggi Andersen
Touchdown Daddy by Ava Walsh
The Moon and Sixpence by W Somerset Maugham
New West by BA Tortuga
TH02 - The Priest of Evil by Matti Joensuu
Thieving Forest by Martha Conway