Once Upon a Witch: A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Fantasy Books 1-3

by Amanda M. Lee

  “What were you thinking about?” Clove asked. “I was going to cry a few minutes ago, too, but I know why I was going to do it.”

  “Because we made fun of your singing,” Thistle said.

  “Exactly.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t want to sit here and dissect everything. I’m so tired. I just want to be back in my bed. I want to rub my feet against Landon’s and listen to him sleep. That sounds like the best thing in the world right now.”

  Landon arched an eyebrow. “You listen to me sleep?”

  “Don’t let it inflate your ego,” I said. “Sometimes when I wake up in the middle of the night it’s the sound of your breathing that lulls me right back to sleep. I can’t explain it.”

  “I do the same thing, sweetie,” Landon said, tightening his grip on my hand. “I would seriously buy Aunt Tillie a new snowplow if we could only get out of this book.”

  “I don’t think it’s going to be that easy,” I said. “We have to keep walking.”

  “We should sing a song to make the trip go faster,” Clove suggested. “I can start.”

  “No!”

  “HELP!”

  “Did you hear that?” Landon asked.

  Twenty minutes later we were still walking down the path in morose silence. Clove was pouting about the singing. I was pouting about my deep thoughts. And Thistle, well, she was pouting because she felt like it. I think the men were happy for the conversational reprieve.

  “Did someone scream for help? Yeah, it was hard to miss,” Thistle replied dryly.

  “Help!”

  Landon glanced at me. “Are we going to ignore that?”

  I worried my bottom lip, unsure. “I think we have to find our way to the end of the path. This is probably just a way to delay us.”

  “Help! Please!”

  Landon pressed his eyes shut, trying to block out the voice.

  “Help!”

  “I can’t ignore that,” he said. “I … I’m supposed to help people.”

  I let go of his hand. This was clearly his fairy tale puzzle to solve. “Go.”

  Landon bolted off the path and into the night, racing down a hill and disappearing into a grove of trees.

  “Should we follow him?” Thistle asked.

  “Yeah. I don’t want to risk being separated.”

  “He’s going to wish he’d stayed on the path,” Clove said. “He’s going to be angry with himself.”

  “I know,” I said. “He can’t listen to someone ask for help and not offer it, though. It’s not in him. Let’s go.”

  We followed Landon down the embankment and through the trees. The cries for help ceased, but somehow I knew which direction to go. I found Landon standing in the middle of a field, a herd of sheep happily munching grass around him, and fixed him with a quizzical look. “Who was screaming?”

  Landon shifted so I could see the young boy standing next to him. The boy was small, his skin pale, his gangly limbs gesturing emphatically as he pointed at the field.

  “Who are you?” I asked.

  “Daniel,” the boy said, flashing me an impish grin.

  “What are you doing out here, Daniel?” I asked, forcing my face to reflect welcome even though my stomach was churning. Landon may need to save people, but I sensed right away that something else was going on here.

  “I’m watching the sheep,” Daniel said.

  “Do they do tricks?” Thistle asked.

  “No way,” Daniel said. “They just munch and dump.”

  “That’s a nice visual,” Thistle said, causing me to crack a real smile. She clearly didn’t trust him either.

  “Should you be out here alone at night?” Landon asked, his cop face in place. “Where are your parents?”

  “They’re at home,” Daniel replied. “Watching the sheep is my job.”

  “You’re awfully young to have a job,” Landon said.

  “Um, Landon, this isn’t the real world,” Thistle reminded him. “No one is running afoul of child labor laws.”

  Landon ignored her. “Don’t you think it’s dangerous to be out here?”

  “Not really,” Daniel said, unruffled. “The only thing dangerous out here is the wolf.”

  “Wolf?”

  Oh, crap. I had a feeling I knew which story we were in. It was the one Aunt Tillie always warned us about as children when we started screaming and tattling on one another. “Landon … .”

  “It’s huge,” Daniel said, his eyes sparkling. “It’s like eight feet tall, and it walks on its hind legs and it steals sheep if I don’t watch out for it.”

  “And your parents think it’s safe for you to be out here watching the sheep even though there’s a wolf on the prowl?” Landon didn’t look convinced.

  “We make our money off the sheep,” Daniel explained. “They have to be watched. That’s my job.”

  “I think I should talk to your parents,” Landon said.

  “That’s not part of the story,” I said. “His parents have nothing to do with this … tale.”

  “And what tale is that?” Landon asked, shifting his eyes to me.

  “He’s the boy who cried wolf.”

  Landon furrowed his brow, confused. “You’re saying he’s making it up?”

  “It’s one of Aunt Tillie’s favorite stories,” Thistle said. “She always accused us of doing it when we were kids.”

  I hated the conflicted look on Landon’s face. He believed us, and yet the idea of leaving a child out in a field to fend for himself didn’t sit right with him. “How can you be sure the wolf isn’t real? There are wolves in fairy tales all of the time.”

  “There are,” I conceded. “Even if it is real, though, this is still just a story. This isn’t real.”

  “I’m real,” Daniel said. “I’m right here.”

  I smiled at him kindly. “I know. I think you should probably call it a night, though, and go back home. That would be best for everyone.”

  “What about the sheep?”

  “I’m sure they’ll still be here in the morning,” I said. Hopefully we wouldn’t be here to make sure.

  “I can’t,” Daniel said. “It’s my job to watch the sheep.”

  “I still want to talk to your parents,” Landon said. “Where are they?”

  “I already told you,” Daniel said. “They’re home.”

  “Landon, we don’t have time to walk miles to this kid’s house and have a deep discussion about parental obligations with them,” I said. “That’s not why we’re here.”

  “Isn’t this my tale?”

  I nodded.

  “Then I’m going to talk to his parents.”

  I wanted to shake him back to his senses. Instead, I turned to Marcus for support. If Landon was going to listen to anyone it would be him. “Marcus, what do you think we should do?”

  The grim set of Marcus’ jaw told me he wasn’t thrilled with the question. “I don’t like the idea of the kid being out here alone either.”

  I shook my head, frustrated. “But … .”

  Marcus cut me off. “But we’re not here for this. It’s another distraction,” he said. “We need to go back to the road and keep going. We’re wasting time here.”

  Landon tightened his grip on Daniel’s shoulder. “I know you’re right. It’s just … it feels wrong.”

  I understood why Landon was the one drawn into this tale. It was something I often worried about where he was concerned. He cared more than any person should – or feasibly could – when it came to the safety of others. He was overcome by the need to save everyone.

  I reached out to him tentatively. Instead of pulling away as I feared he would, though, he grabbed my hand and took a step away from Daniel. “Try to stay safe,” Landon said.

  Daniel rolled his eyes. “I’m always safe.”

  “Watch the sheep,” Thistle said. “That’s your job, and you need to do your job.”

  “I know,” Daniel said.

  Landon let
me lead him away, and we were almost through the trees when his belief in me came crashing down.

  “Wolf! Help! Wolf! It’s going to eat me!”

  Landon jerked his hand from mine and turned, running back in the direction of Daniel’s screams. I didn’t hesitate to follow him, and when we returned to the field Daniel was standing right where we left him. He was alone, other than the munching and dumping sheep, of course.

  “Where’s the wolf?” Landon asked, scanning the field.

  “I saw him for only a second. “He had glowing red eyes and fangs that were this big,” said Daniel, spreading his arms wide for emphasis. “He was going to eat me.”

  Landon exhaled heavily before turning back to face me. “You were right.”

  “It’s not about being right,” I said. “This is the world Aunt Tillie created. We could leave this field a hundred times. Each one of those times he’s going to try to stop us by screaming and carrying on about wolves. We’re never going to see a wolf. Not in this tale.”

  “I’m sorry,” Landon said. “I should have left.”

  “You’re not the type of person who abandons someone,” I said. “Even when you didn’t know me, you never abandoned me. I seem to keep forgetting that. You got shot for me, and you had no idea what kind of person I was.

  “I know you want to save everyone,” I said. “That’s not what’s happening here, though.”

  “I know,” Landon said, weary. “Let’s get moving. I’m sure there are other horrors waiting around the next bend.”

  “That’s something to look forward to,” I teased.

  “It is,” Landon agreed, grabbing my hand.

  We were almost back to the trees when Daniel decided to speak again. “Wait … you’re not going to leave me here with the wolf, are you?”

  “I guess so,” Landon replied, refusing to turn around. “Try to stay safe, kid.”

  “But … .”

  Daniel didn’t finish whatever he was about to say. Instead, he let loose with a blood-curdling scream. Even though I knew it was a game, I couldn’t stop myself from turning around. Instead of Daniel’s mischievous smile, though, I saw his look of terror as a large monster descended on the boy.

  “Holy crap!”

  Landon whipped around, stunned.

  The wolf paid us no heed, instead grabbing Daniel around the waist and hoisting him over his shoulder. Daniel was right. This was no normal wolf. It walked on two legs and its eyes were … human. They were full of malevolence, although they weren’t glowing and red, but they were still human.

  “Help me,” Daniel screamed, pounding on the wolf’s back.

  We couldn’t do anything but stand there, though. We were frozen in place and we watched the wolf carry Daniel into the woods. Just like that … he was gone.

  If a wolf can fool you by putting on a nightcap and glasses, you’ve got bigger problems than the wolf. That also means you’re either blind or stupid. I’d rather fight a wolf than be stupid.

  – Aunt Tillie’s Wonderful World of Stories to Make Little Girls Shut Up

  Ten

  “What just happened here?”

  I was at a loss for words.

  “What just happened here?” Landon repeated, turning to face off with me. “You said there was no wolf.”

  “I … .”

  “That looked like a wolf to me.”

  “Calm down,” Marcus said, pushing between Landon and me. It was a useless move. Landon would never put his hands on me, but his face was so red with anger I didn’t blame Marcus for being worried. “We all thought he was the boy who cried wolf.”

  “What are you doing?” Landon asked, looking Marcus up and down. “Do you really think I’m going to hurt her?”

  “I’m worried that you seem a little … intense,” Marcus said.

  Landon faltered. “I would never hurt her.”

  “I know, man,” Marcus said, taking a step back. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I thought that.”

  “It’s this place,” Thistle said. “The longer we’re here, the more it’s messing with us. Aunt Tillie knew what she was doing when she cast the curse.”

  “It’s not only the worst parts of ourselves that are coming out now,” I said, wrapping my hand around Landon’s wrist briefly. When I moved to pull it away he placed his other hand over it and held it there. “We’re taking on characteristics of the story characters themselves now.”

  “When did you figure that out?” Clove asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I’ve been thinking about it for a little while, I guess. It’s the reason I feel as if I’m going to start crying. Aunt Tillie always said the women in most fairy tales were weak.

  “I think it’s also the reason Thistle is getting … grumpier … as we go on,” I continued. “She’s turning into a … villain.”

  “Is that what’s happening to me?” Landon asked, worried.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “The men in the stories are … different. There’s more room for conflict. I mean, think about it. Snow White, Cinderella, Rapunzel … all of them … what do they have in common?”

  “They’re all good,” Clove said.

  “They’re also weak,” I said. “Snow White doesn’t save herself, the prince does. Cinderella doesn’t tell her stepmother and stepsisters where to stick it, because the prince saves her. Rapunzel sits in that tower for years waiting for a man to save her. All they do is sit around and wait for someone to save them.”

  Landon moved his hand from mine and pulled me closer to him, resting his face against the side of my head. “I don’t know what to think about that.”

  “I think the curse is latching on to certain parts of our personality,” I said. “That’s why Thistle is getting grumpier. That’s why Clove is getting whinier. That’s why I’m getting more … uncertain. The longer we’re here, the more our personalities are going to change.”

  “This is such crap,” Landon said, pressing a quick kiss to my forehead. “I’m going to have to kill your Aunt Tillie. You know that, right?”

  “That’s probably why you’re turning into a villain, like me,” Thistle said.

  “We need to keep moving,” I said. “Any detours we take, we need to make a plan and get through them.”

  “Are we leaving that kid to be eaten by a wolf?” Landon asked.

  “He’s not real,” I said. “He’s not being eaten. He’s not feeling pain. He’s a fictional character.”

  “Okay,” Landon said, giving in. “Let’s keep moving.”

  As everyone turned to file back to the path Landon kept me close. “I can’t turn into a villain,” he murmured.

  “You won’t,” I said. “I have faith. You’re just … emotionally charged right now.”

  “I feel out of control.”

  “We all feel out of control.”

  “I would never hurt you, Bay,” Landon said. “You know that, right?”

  “I know that.”

  “Marcus didn’t seem to,” Landon said bitterly.

  “Marcus is dealing with the same thing we are,” I said.

  “Do you think he’s becoming a villain?”

  I shook my head. “He’s too mellow. I think the only reason some of that stuff is starting to happen to you is because you’re strong … and bossy.”

  “You’re bossy, too.”

  “Not like you and Thistle. Things will only get worse before they get better,” I said.

  “I love you, Bay,” Landon said earnestly.

  “I love you, too.”

  “I’m still going to kill your Aunt Tillie.”

  “We’re all going to kill her,” Thistle called from the front of the formation. “You’re going to have to get in line.”

  “I am the line,” Landon replied.

  “No way … oh, come on,” Thistle said. “Get up here.”

  Landon and I increased our pace, and when we walked out of the woods we found a red cape hanging from a tree branch next to the path
. Everything else was the same except for the new clothing item.

  “Red Riding Hood,” Marcus said, looking the cape up and down. “What do you think? Should we leave it here and keep going?”

  “No,” I said, an idea forming. “Thistle needs to put it on.”

  “Why me?” Thistle whined.

  “Because you’re becoming a villain,” I said. “You need to be the hero again to ward off those inner urges of yours.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “No,” I admitted. “It’s just a feeling.”

  “Her feelings have been right so far,” Landon said. “Put it on. Maybe it will lead us to the wolf and … Daniel.”

  Thistle scowled. “If I get eaten by a wolf I swear I’m going to come back and haunt you for the rest of your lives.” She grabbed the cloak and swung it over her shoulders, tying it around her neck before planting her feet on the brick road. “Bring it on, wolf!”

  I swallowed my upper lip with my lower to keep from laughing, risking a glance at Landon, who didn’t bother hiding his smile.

  Thistle cocked her head to the side, waiting. “Where is it?”

  “Maybe we have to keep walking,” I said. “It would be anticlimactic if the wolf simply jumped out of the woods immediately and attacked you.”

  “I guess,” Thistle said.

  We picked up our trek, Thistle leading the way with Marcus close on her heels. He wasn’t letting her out of his sight.

  “Do you think we’re going to Grandma’s house?” Clove asked. “This is Aunt Tillie’s story, after all. Maybe we’ll finally get to meet her.”

  “I keep forgetting you guys never got a chance to meet your grandmother,” Landon said.

  “Aunt Tillie was our grandmother,” I said. “Although we were told if we ever called her that we’d have our mouths glued shut for a month – and she was going to use actual glue.”

  Landon snickered. “That sounds like her.”

  He was making an effort to embrace the lighter side of things right now, visions of mustache-twirling dancing through his head as he fought to keep himself calm even though he really wanted to find the wolf that took Daniel and beat it to a pulp. I squeezed his hand reassuringly.

  “You’re not a villain,” I said. “You’re a good guy. You’re the best guy.”