Free The Stepsister Scheme by Jim C. Hines Page A

the same as Talia. Their taunts soon drowned out the cries of the Fey Church.

    “Come on, while everyone is busy watching the show.” said Snow, threading her way through the crowds.

    Talia pointed toward the small, gruesomely decorated Chapel of the Baptism of Blood, where a man and woman in crimson hurled epithets at the other churches. “It’s nothing but an act to rile the crowds and put gold in their coffers, the same as any actor or tumbler.”

    “You don’t believe?” Danielle asked.

    “In them?” She snorted. “By the end of the night, most of these priests will gather at one of the churches and drink together like brothers.”

    “So what do you believe?”

    Talia shrugged. “My teachers told me magic was brought to our world by Pravesh, Giver of Light. His sister Shiev was angry, wanting to keep that magic for the gods. She tore him into eight pieces and scattered the parts across the world. The fey rose from his spilled blood and spread throughout the world. They had Pravesh’s magic, but were forever tainted by the violence and betrayal of their birth.”

    “Is that why you don’t like the fairies?” Danielle asked. Talia said nothing.

    Danielle finished her seed cake as she followed. She kept her head bowed, but it didn’t seem to matter. Few people paid them any attention, and those who did would be unlikely to recognize her. Even Snow passed with little notice.

    Snow had left her fancy gown and jewelry at the house, donning one of Danielle’s old outfits instead. Charlotte and Stacia hadn’t touched Danielle’s things, probably deciding they were no good for anything but rags. The shirt and trousers were well worn, but clean. Snow was thinner than Danielle, so the clothes hung loosely on her slender frame, except in the chest and hips. An old apron provided a bit more modesty, and a moth-eaten scarf concealed her choker.

    A yawning guardsman waved them through the open gates of the city. The hot, heavy air of the crowd gave way to a cool breeze, and the cobblestones beneath their feet changed to hard, dusty earth.

    Danielle carried her sword under one arm, tied within a roll of blankets. Talia had bundled it so that Danielle could reach into the blankets and draw the sword without too much trouble, though they would have to unroll everything to get the sword back in.

    She squeezed the blankets as she walked, feeling the crossguard press against her ribs. She wanted to take the sword and hold it in her hands, to feel the last gift her mother would ever give her.

    “I should have come back sooner,” she whispered. How long had that demon been trapped within the tree, weakening her mother’s spirit?

    Snow shook her head. “Your mother chose her death the moment she drew the Chirka into herself.”

    “This isn’t how things were supposed to be.”

    “She died to save you,” said Talia, her expression distant. “It’s what any good mother would have done.”

    Tents and carts lined either side of the dirt road, spreading outward along the city wall. Prostitutes and lepers and actors, all those who found themselves less than welcome inside the city, gathered here around the gates.

    “How long until we find the troll?” Danielle asked. Flies buzzed in annoyance as she stepped over a pile of horse dung.

    “That depends on whether or not he wants to be found,” said Snow.

    It wasn’t the most comforting of answers. “If he sells dark magic, why hasn’t the queen done something about him?”

    “It’s hard to explain,” Snow said, glancing at Talia. “He’s exiled from Fairytown, but he’s still of fey blood. And he doesn’t actually perform any illegal magic himself. So the queen—”

    “Abides by the treaty,” Talia finished. She spat. “Letting him pollute our city with his foul magic.”

    Snow’s face brightened. “But if he’s the one who helped Charlotte and Stacia, that would be a clear violation of sections nine and twenty-two of Malindar’s