by A. B. Keuser
Making her way through the other rooms, she was glad there were no more surprises—or none she could see at any rate.
Gretel heard the creaking of movement overhead, tossed her last pinecone and rushed back into the kitchen. They wouldn’t have time to act yet.
EIGHT
The witch’s shuffling steps signaled her return from whatever darkness she kept inside her personal chambers late that morning. Hazel hurried them back inside the cage and hid the things they’d stolen under her coat.
Carcenia’s tattered hem dragged over the wooden floorboards with a scratching whisper that played a background rhythm to her uneven footsteps, and when she rounded the corner and came into sight, Hazel sat up straighter.
The witch glowered at them, her unseeing eyes puffy and red, her lips pale and cracked. Even her posture had deteriorated. Hunched further, her chin would have sat on the lock of their cage if she'd come that close. Instead, she pulled a chair made from knotted wood out of the corner and sat in front of them, scowling as though she was about to deliver a harsh reprimand.
Hazel pulled Gretel closer. If the witch wanted to enchant her again, she wasn't going to let her leave the house where that... beast might kill her.
"I want you to finish your task, girl." The witch's voice was low, quiet. "I need those things, and you will get them for me." Leaning back in the chair, she muttered something low enough that neither of them could hear.
Hazel shared a glance with Gretel. With no idea why the witch wanted them, and no sign that she was going to use her enchantment on Gretel again, Hazel shrugged and nodded toward the door.
When Gretel got near it, the witch opened the cell and pointed to a new basket before tossing a metal harness inside the cage. "As for you, boy. It's time for you to start earning that food that doesn't seem to be clinging to your bones yet."
Hazel raised a brow at that, but didn't comment. They'd barely eaten a thing since they arrived. She was set on fattening them up, but hadn't provided the fare to get results.
If her movements and manner were any sign, the witch was weaker than she had been before. Odd, given what Edina said about her powers in relation to eating boys and men.
Snapping her fingers, the witch snatched a harness from where it had appeared out of thin air.
“Put it on,” she said before shoving her crooked finger at Edina. “Fasten it in the back.”
Muttering her assent, Edina did as she was told, and Hazel waited to see what the witch had planned for her.
Grabbing hold of the attached leash, the witch dragged her through the front door.
“Deal with that.” She said, sweeping her hand toward the garden that looked half dead. “And you, girl. Clip the buds.”
Edina’s small gasp was quiet enough Hazel thought she’d mistaken it at first. The girl’s pallor and wide eyes told her she had not been heard incorrectly.
With a hacking cough, Carcenia disappeared back into the house and the door slammed behind her.
“What’s wrong?” Hazel asked as Edina picked up a pair of sheers, keeping her eyes on the ground.
“I think she’s going to try to kill the irzahara.”
Hazel didn’t ask why that scared Edina as much as it did. She doubted the girl would answer, and Hazel had enough secrets of her own to allow the girl one or two.
Watching Gretel disappear into the forest, Hazel could have sworn there was a light bobbling around her head.
Edina watched as well. “The forest likes her.”
“That’s good. I’d hate to have to melt down all that metal if it hurt her.”
Straightening at that comment, Edina’s shoulders went rigid. “Don’t dawdle. Carcenia may be blind, but she knows how much work you’ve done at the end of the day.”
Then the girl was gone, clipping shears in hand.
Watching her disappear around a thick, brown bush, Hazel wondered what she’d said that made the girl suddenly flee her presence.
Ignoring it, she moved to the box of rusted tools set out for her. Half of them would be useful in killing the witch… if she could get close enough with them to do any damage.
Carcenia might not be able to control her, but she could certainly control metal.
Giving that up for a lost cause, Hazel pulled out a trowel and a short handled hoe, and got to work.
Hazel stabbed at the ground with the rusted tool. The potatoes she found were nearly as hard as the rocks that littered the ground in which they grew. If the witch thought they would be edible, Hazel hoped she didn't expect them to eat them. Looking down at the small pile that rested at her feet, she decided she could be quality control. Pulling the worst of the bunch, she tossed them over the fence and continued to do so as she worked through the brittle dirt.
By the time she was done with the long row of potatoes, only six remained. She didn't want to know how many lay outside the fence.
Turning back to start on the woman's carrots—they at least were a beautiful purple, and seemed edible—she stopped as her gaze caught on a pale gray stone engraved with symbols that had filled with moss. More weirstones.
Weirstones did one of three things.
Standing, she looked along the fence to the other side of the path. There was a second.
Hazel would have bet her entire inheritance that there were five total and that gave her a delightful plan.
Tugging on her harness' leash, she moved back around the small patch of the garden. She couldn’t do anything on her own.
Two rows of carrots pulled from their dry, dirt confines and she was about to start inspecting the cabbages. This really was Gretel’s area of expertise, but she wasn’t about to suggest more work for her.
Her hands were dry, her pants were dirty, and Hazel was certain the mid afternoon sun was going to kill her. She worked on anyway.
Edina never came back into sight. Whatever her task was, it was not a quick one. Hazel kept looking toward the trees, waiting for Gretel to come back.
The sun had sank low in the sky when a flicker of light from the forest drew her eyes back to the dark tree line. The fairy light still bobbled around her head, it only left her when Gretel stepped into the meadow, as though it had hit some sort of invisible wall.
Hazel waved her over, arms moving a bit too frantically, if she was honest, and let out a sigh of relief when Gretel glanced warily toward the door and then hurried to stoop by her side.
“I have a plan.”
“A new one?” Gretel asked, setting down her overfull basket.
Nodding, Hazel pointed to the stones.
“Does that mean she knows I’m back?”
“Possibly.” Hazel glanced at the door. If they were quick, it wouldn’t matter. “Help me undo the leash. We need to destroy those.”
Gretel pulled a pin from her hair and had the harness of her in a matter of seconds. Tossing it to the side, she pulled Gretel to her and kissed her, drinking her in.
“Let’s get away from here so I never have to wait to do that again.”
Smiling, Gretel kissed her back before they had to break apart and finish their plan.
“Do you want the sledge hammer or these?” She held up the ballpeen hammer and chisel she’d found buried amongst the tools. Why the witch had either in with her gardening supplies, Hazel didn’t know. She wasn’t about to question her luck.
Gretel took the sledge hammer, as Edina joined them.
“You can’t.”
*
Gretel didn’t know why the girl was so adamant that they not destroy the weirstones. It gave her pause, but whatever it was, it couldn’t possibly be worse than being the witch’s slave for the rest of her life. It definitely was not worse than waiting around to watch Hazel be eaten.
The thought made her stomach roil, and she leaned against Hazel just to remind herself that they were both still alive. Still together. Not yet safe, but their new plan would get them there. If Hazel was sure, she was sure as well.
“We’r
e doing it. You can help, or you can stand back and watch until we all make a run for it.”
Shaking her head, Edina sank back to huddle against the house, her small hands wrapping around to clutch her knees.
The way she cowered was… wrong. The fire in the way she talked about Carcenia should have lent itself to a girl who was ready and willing to do anything it took to get out of the witch’s control.
Swallowing, Gretel realized she knew what was wrong.
If you looked close enough, you could see the resemblance. Edina’s hair and the point of her chin were the same. Her skin was not the mottled gray, and her lips were not cracked and black, but if Gretel had been paying enough attention, she would have realized.
Edina was the witch’s daughter.
Gretel didn’t know whether to pity the girl or stagger away.
Hadn’t she stayed with her mother through all the social atrocities the woman had committed? The blatant theft from the butcher that no one seemed to be willing to hold her accountable for, even though it had driven the butcher from town and forced the rest of the village to deal with their own meat until someone took up his place… the refusal to do more than a handful of mending projects as soon as she taught Gretel to sew. Her mother was still her mother.
Betrayal, and the ability to leave with Hazel were the only things that had jarred her lose.
But Edina had already been betrayed. The witch treated her like a slave… if what she said was correct, and the witch had eaten her brothers—Carcenia’s own sons—there was nothing to make her believe the witch would spare her from other, gruesome tortures. The burns from the box under the oven were proof enough of that.
The sickening thought that followed almost made Gretel throw up again… Carcenia had eaten her own sons.
“She doesn’t love you, Edina.” Gretel said, feeling the odd pang in her chest as she recognized her own truth in them. “We’ll keep you safe and get you away from here.”
Shaking her head violently, Edina said nothing.
There was no chance she would convince the girl, but if she had to, she would bodily drag her away.
Gretel took up her place beside the stone Hazel had directed her too, and watched as Hazel stuck her chisel into the crack in the otherwise smooth rock. When she nodded, Gretel hefted the hammer and swung down with all the force she had.
When the hammer hit rock, she felt the impact vibrate through her and she fell backward as a bubble of hard air seemed to burst around them.
A shrieking echo sounded within the house. Her mind swam, and she wavered as she pushed herself to her feet, stumbling with her first step.
Her mind cleared disappointingly slowly, and she swayed, clutching tight to what remained of the nearby fence. The ground would not stay still.
Hazel’s voice filtered through the fog, but she only caught words here and there. “Okay” and “magic” and “differently”… the rest were a fuzzy blur.
Her stomach seemed to turn over on herself and she let out a long, low breath and some of the movement stopped.
“We have to go,” Hazel said, holding her head in both hands and staring her straight in the eye.
She rushed forward still stumbling, and managed to jump over the crater where her stone had once been without falling. That was a miracle in and of itself. Grabbing hold of Edina’s wrist, she pulled, harder than she probably ought to have.
The girl dug her heels in and tried to pull away. “No!”
She clawed at Gretel’s hand, sharp little nails scratching and Gretel grit her teeth at the stabs of sharp pain. It was the wrong pain, but she ignored that. She had to get the girl out of here, for her own good.
“We have to go, now,” Gretel said as she watched Hazel grab the quiver and bow she’d discarded before their imprisonment.
“No!” Edina kicked at her. “It’s already eaten me once. I won’t go through that again!”
She punched, her fist landing on the hard leather of Gretel’s corset, and she stumbled backwards and stared at the girl. What did she mean, she’d been eaten?
A scary thought passed through her mind. Had Carcenia brainwashed her daughter? Had she used some sort of magic to keep the girl from understanding the danger she was in? Had she somehow made the girl believe the greater danger lie in leaving?
She didn’t have time to ask anything as Hazel slung her quiver over her back and took her hand and pulled her away. “If she wants to stay, leave her.”
Gretel used Hazel’s hand to help her move. The ground was still unwilling to stay still, and her head felt like it wanted to fall off for the bouncing she did as they ran. They would be safe soon. Then she could stop and deal with the ugly feeling coiling in her head.
Her feet and her stomach seemed to disagree. She dropped as one knee failed her, and was barely able to push herself back up when the bile rose in her throat.
Turning to void her stomach, she saw a dark cloud of magic escape the maw of the crooked doorway.
Hazel cursed, pulled her upright and took off again. Gretel ran in spite of the ugly feeling it pushed through her.
Dark magic coiled around her and for a moment she couldn’t breathe. It pulled her backward, the sound of claws on the leather around her chest.
She’d taken too long trying to convince Edina to go.
Cold stole her breath and her skin erupted in gooseflesh as she struggled against its hold.
Hazel turned, nocking an arrow and let it fly.
If it hit its mark, Gretel didn’t know. All she knew was that it hadn’t worked. Breathing was near impossible. Each gasp she managed felt like the icy pain of a snow burn.
And then it stopped. Falling to her knees, too hard, her hands stung with the sudden contact. Gasping she tried to figure out what had happened. Hazel hadn’t shot again, the reaction was too delayed.
Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Edina dragged back into the house by the magic that had tried to ensnare her.
“She stepped in the way.” Hazel said, helping her up and pulling her—more slowly this time—toward the relative safety of the forest.
“Why would she do that?”
Shrugging, Hazel made sure she was inside the tree line before she looked back. “I doubt I’ll ever understand the motivations of that particular child.”
NINE
Hazel led the way back into the forest, glancing over her shoulder once to see witch’s face contorted with rage. She slowed as soon as the darkness of the trees covered them.
Catching her breath, she looked back at Gretel. “Are you okay?”
Nodding, Gretel said, “the weirstone may have knocked me down, but I’m fine. Or I would be if this thing would leave me alone.”
She swatted at the fairy light and it bobbed away from her hand, just out of reach on every pass.
“It is an odd companion.” She reached out toward it with a finger, and it drifted toward her before turning in a wide arc to circle Gretel. “And I guess it doesn’t like me.”
“Lucky.”
Trying not to laugh, Hazel looked around her. The last time they’d come through this part of the forest, she’d been too busy wondering why Gretel was pulling her at a breakneck pace to get a good view. The trees were cramped around her, their boughs weaving an arch above their heads, and there was only one opening in sight that broke through the darkness.
Curious, she moved toward it as Gretel scolded and swatted at the little light.
The arch was full of magic, but it was not the decaying sort that had clung to Carcenia and her house. This was a protective magic, something meant to turn away those it didn’t want. It didn’t want her. And as she looked through the opening, she knew why.
Her blood came from a dark fairy, the clearing beyond was nothing but good magic.
Gretel pulled her back. “We can’t go in there. It’s a veil.”
Hazel knew as much from the shimmering, gossamer enchantment that covered over the arching bows. But she knew, too, that it w
as not what Gretel thought.
“Trust me.”
Swallowing, Gretel nodded, and Hazel held her hand more tightly, pulling her through the archway and into the veil.
Power sung through Hazel and she closed her eyes drinking in the delirious feeling. Wherever this place were—veils existed outside of time and space—it had been created by something very powerful. But the magic was old, as heady as it made her feel, there was something stale and sad in it. This place had been forgotten.
When she opened her eyes, the meadow she’d seen before spread out in front of her and the heady scent of cherry blossoms filled the air.
Gretel let out a strangled sound of disbelief. “Why would Edina lie to me?”
“I have a feeling that little girl is not what she seems.”
The grass at their feet was littered with tiny white wildflowers and a cool breeze swept past them, playing with Gretel’s half fallen hair.
They couldn’t stay here forever, but a very selfish part of Hazel wanted to.
Hazel looked up at the darkening sky. “We’re safe here for the night. We’ll decide how to continue tomorrow.”
Gretel nodded and sat down in the soft grass.
When Hazel sat down beside her, Gretel didn’t give her another chance to speak. She pushed her back and kissed her.
Startled, it took a moment for Hazel to open up to her, but when she did, their tongues entwined and Gretel’s hands quested down her body. The lacing on her pants were undone before Hazel had a chance to laugh at her lover’s eagerness.
It would be so easy to use her weight to turn Gretel on her back, to take control like she had the last time and make sure Gretel got hers. The eagerness in Gretel’s movements made her stop. Whatever Gretel wanted, she could have.
And Gretel wanted her mouth. Hazel turned into the kiss and was almost knocked backward. They’d been locked away in that witch’s house for too long, and she’d be damned if she held back anything either.
She wrapped an arm behind Gretel’s neck and pulled her against her. Tongues entwined, and Hazel thought of the last time… the first time. She hadn’t had enough time to savor the taste of Gretel on her tongue. Tonight, they would change that.