by Julie C. Dao
“Should we go back? Your parents will wonder where you are,” Mathilda said at last.
“I suppose so. I wish I could stay with you longer, though.”
The witch slipped an arm through hers. “I haven’t had such a pleasant day in a long time. Thank you.” She hesitated, then added, “Will you be telling Agnes and Oskar tonight?”
“No time like the present,” Elva said confidently, though her stomach swooped with nerves. “Maybe I’ll even show them this.” She closed her eyes and pictured the heavy branch lying in their path. She thought of her energy as a stream, flowing outward, and envisioned herself picking the branch up and flinging it aside. When she opened her eyes, the branch floated up from the ground and threw itself into the woods.
“That took you no time at all!” Mathilda praised her. “And when you get even better, you won’t need to close your eyes or…” She trailed off, her face troubled.
“What is it?”
“There’s someone outside my boundary. The magic lets me sense when they’re near. They’ll pass through to the other side, but it’s happened too often lately. First that little girl, Hannah, and now a boy I’ve seen twice this week alone. I wish magic wasn’t so attractive to children. They’re drawn to it even if they don’t know what it is. What’s wrong?”
“What did the boy look like?” Elva asked, going cold all over.
“He had pale blond hair and was about this tall. His back was turned to me both times, but I did find a few spools of thread where he was standing.” Mathilda frowned thoughtfully. “There was a trail of them for a short distance, leading back the way he had come.”
“Bread crumbs,” Elva muttered.
“What’s wrong? Do you think it was your brother Cay?”
“I certainly hope not, after I told him not to come here without me.” But even as she spoke, Elva knew in her bones that it had been Cay. He had ignored her warning.
“Don’t worry,” Mathilda said. “I’ll look out for him, and anyway, there aren’t any wells around here that I know of.” She led Elva toward the tree landmarks but then stopped again. “I can still sense the people there. I should go and make sure…You run home….”
“No, I’ll come with you,” Elva said, pointing at her red shoes. “I won’t make a sound.”
Even without enchanted shoes, the witch moved like silent mist as they skirted the perimeter of the boundary, her hand on the invisible curtain. They hid behind an oak tree when they heard men’s voices, and Elva’s heart leaped when she recognized Willem and Klaus in the group of four.
“Didn’t I tell you the best spruce is found in witch territory?” asked one of the farmhands, his voice loud and boastful. He had an axe strapped to his back. “Magic makes the trees grow taller around her, so no one can find her.”
“How is that supposed to hide her?” scoffed another farmhand in a red work shirt.
The first man gave him a withering look. “Oh, Jonas, you don’t know anything about it. You’ve never gone on a witch hunt with us. Has he, Willem?”
Elva frowned at the offensive remark, knowing Willem would never go along with such nonsense. But her heart stopped when she heard his familiar laugh.
“We’ll take Jonas on our next hunt,” Klaus suggested. “He could learn a thing or two.”
“I’m sure I know more than you, at any rate,” Jonas told him. “You’re the newest.”
The farmhand with the axe clapped Klaus on the shoulder. “He catches on quickly.”
“All I need to do is bring a child with me,” Klaus said, with a cold smile, “and the witch will come right out, isn’t that so? They are what she eats, aren’t they?”
Everyone laughed, including Willem, who said not one word to defend the woman or even change the subject. Elva leaned against the trunk, heartsick. She didn’t want to hear any more of the conversation, but they couldn’t move without risking the men seeing them. She thought of the Easter party, when Willem had promised her never to repeat gossip. And here he was, chuckling along.
A rapping sound rang out in the forest. Klaus had taken one of the heavy spruce logs and hit it against an oak. “So it’s true that she lives here, then? Why won’t she come out?” he asked. “I’m sure she could make a deal with the town. Make some money for her poisons and such.”
Mathilda stiffened.
“I’ve wondered the same thing,” said the farmhand with the axe. “If I could do magic, I’d try to get rich off it instead of sulking in the woods.”
“That seems practical,” Willem agreed, and the roaring in Elva’s ears grew louder.
“And if anyone caught me, I would move from town to town, changing my name and my appearance,” the farmhand continued. “It seems like it would be a simple thing to do.”
“But you’d always have to be on the run,” Jonas argued. “That’s no way to live.”
The farmhand scoffed. “Oh, shut up. You’d be stupid not to try to make a profit. Too bad she’s a coward.”
Klaus turned, his gray eyes glittering. “Maybe we could be the ones to find her and get her out of hiding. We could strike a deal with her and get a portion of the money she’ll make. Or,” he added, studying his nails, “we could always kill her and get reward money for it.”
Everyone laughed again, and Willem leaned casually against a tree. Even the physical stance he adopted around his peers looked unfamiliar to Elva. “Who has time for that?” he asked. “We might not be staying around Hanau, anyway. Klaus and I have more promising horizons.”
“What? You’re leaving Herr Bauer?” Jonas asked. “What about your girl?”
Elva’s nails dug into the tree. This was something Willem had never shared with her.
Klaus put up his hands. “We’ve already said too much. But this is a small town, and our sights are set on something bigger. And as for Willem’s girl, she’ll come with him, of course. She’s going to be his wife, isn’t she? She’ll have to go, too.”
The vision of her descendants came flooding back into Elva’s mind. In the future, their family would go to the New World, but she had imagined a happy sea voyage, hand in hand with Willem, everything honest and clear between them. Not a journey he had decided on with Klaus and not her.
Thankfully, the men seemed ready to get back to the farm. They carried off their loads of lumber, voices and footsteps fading until silence returned to the North Woods.
Still sick with shame and disappointment at Willem, Elva looked at Mathilda’s pale face. “I’m so sorry,” she said, her heart aching. The experiment with getting her friend back out into the world had gone so well until now. Surely the witch would not want to continue, not after this.
But when Mathilda spoke, her voice was low and determined. “They think I’m a coward. They think I want to hide forever. Well, maybe I did once, but I’m going to show them and all of Hanau. I deserve to live in the open, just like everyone else.”
“Then you still want to go on with this?”
“If you can get your parents’ support and ask the council for a meeting, that’s all we can do,” the witch answered, and Elva hugged her impulsively. “And you? Are you all right?”
“Willem…” Elva swallowed hard, trying not to cry. It was difficult even to just say his name. “I can’t believe he just stood there and laughed along with them. But there’s no time to think about that now. I need to go home. If you still want to go through with this, then I will tell my family everything tonight.”
The witch’s face was still pale, but her gaze was steady. “I’ll be ready for whatever comes. As long as you are there.”
“And there I will be,” Elva said.
The room was silent. Mama’s and Papa’s faces were frozen, Rayner looked bewildered, and Cay gazed fixedly at the floor. Elva wrung her hands, waiting for someone, anyone, to speak.
“This can’t be real,” her mother said at last. “You must be joking.”
“It’s the truth, Mama,” Elva said. “I found your letters
by accident and I’m sorry Papa had to find out about them this way. But it’s like what you always say: Everything happens for a reason. Now that we know the storm is coming for us, we can prepare.”
“All these years, you’ve avoided using that cursed ability of yours. Why did you have to have a vision now?” Mama demanded. “Why did you ever look into your water basin?”
“It’s not cursed if it will keep us safe. If I can see the future, why not use it? Why not be aware of what’s coming?” Elva asked, looking to Cay for help, but he refused to meet her eyes.
“I cannot believe you invaded my privacy and went behind our backs.”
“But I needed Mathilda’s help, Mama….”
“And instead of going to her to get rid of your powers, which I might have understood,” her mother ranted, “you went and asked her to help you use them!”
Elva pressed her lips together, trying to stay calm. “I don’t want to get rid of them. How could I ask her to take away something so valuable? Something that could protect all of you?”
“Valuable, you call it!” Mama threw up her hands. “It might get you killed!”
“This storm is coming because of the family curse, don’t you see? It’s a consequence of your broken promise, just like my visions. This is going to be our worst bout of bad luck yet.”
There was a silence, thick with the tension of long-kept secrets spilled out into the open. And then Papa spoke at last, his voice ringing out. “Does anyone else know about all this?”
Elva swallowed hard, unable to tell them about Willem yet. “No one else knows about Mathilda. Please, Papa, I know you’ve never liked her. But she is good and she’s helped me.”
“But how can you trust her? What if she plans to use you against Mama and me?”
“She won’t,” Elva said wearily. “I love all of you above anything, and I don’t want to see you or our farm hurt. I’m sorry I lied to you, but I wanted to help. I had no one else to turn to.”
“How can you be sure this storm will come?” Papa persisted. “How do you know the vision wasn’t just a dream, or your imagination?”
Mama sighed. “I think you know the answer to that, Oskar. You know that if Elva saw a storm, it will come. And we’re due for our next round of bad luck.”
Papa rubbed his forehead. “I don’t like it,” he muttered, sighing. “I don’t like witchcraft dictating what we should and shouldn’t do. But it can’t be helped now. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to reinforce the barns and dig shelters for the animals, and we could find someplace to store the crops, though I don’t know what the farmhands will think when I tell them to do it.”
“I don’t suppose you saw when the storm will come?” Mama asked Elva.
“No, but Papa’s ideas are good ones,” Elva said, her spirits rising slightly. Her parents might be willing to believe her about the storm, at least, which meant they could prepare for it. “Mathilda has been teaching me other things I can do to help protect us, too. Oh, please, will you speak to the council?”
Her father shook his head. “The storm is one thing, but this trial you’re suggesting is an entirely different matter. What will people think if it looks like I’m supporting the witch?”
“It doesn’t matter what they think! It matters what’s right!” Elva knelt in front of his chair. “Please, Papa. She’s been hated and feared and forced to live alone because of something she can’t help. Would you want something like that to happen to me?”
“Of course not! But you’re nothing like her.”
“But I am like her. I didn’t want or ask for my ability. How does that make me different from Mathilda? That could be me living alone in the woods.” Elva turned, appealing to her mother. “Mama, you knew her well once. Surely you saw how good she is and how much she has struggled to be happy. You know it’s wrong that she’s been persecuted like this.”
Mama covered her face with one hand.
“I know some people won’t like the idea of a trial. They want to hate anyone who’s different.” Elva’s throat went dry, recalling the awful things the farmhands had said in the woods, and Willem laughing with them. “But Mathilda deserves a full life. I know you’re scared for me and worried that bad things will happen, but there is also an opportunity for good.”
“Elva…” Papa began, but she surged on.
“Yes, there is prejudice against her. But others might see the good in her, like Mama and me. Just think if those voices spoke out together at the trial.” Elva took her father’s hand. “All these years, she’s lived a quiet life. She hasn’t harmed or disturbed anyone, and if she could be allowed to live freely, she would be as peaceful a neighbor as anyone could wish.”
A halfhearted chuckle escaped Mama. “You speak so feelingly for her, like a young lawyer fresh from university. Do you care for Mathilda so much?”
“You taught me to be kind,” Elva said softly. “And this is the best way I know how. She helped me to think of my powers as a gift, and to take pride in what I can do. I never thought I would find a friend like that.”
Papa shook his head again. “I didn’t want us associating with the witch years ago, and I don’t want it now. I believe you,” he added quickly, seeing Elva start to argue. “There must be something to this woman if she can win both you and your mother over. But there is too much at stake, and I won’t risk our good name and reputation. I’m sorry, Elva.”
“Papa…”
“I’m sorry, Elva,” he said again, more firmly. “I’m not going to do this.”
Elva stood up, trembling. “Then I will. I will go to the council myself if I have to.”
Her father stared at her in disbelief. “You’ve never gone against my word in all your life. Why now? It might not be a kindness, what you’re doing for her, you know. Why do you insist on bringing this woman back into a society that doesn’t want her?”
“Because I need to believe that there can be justice for Mathilda…and for me,” Elva said passionately. “She and I are the same, no matter what you say, and anyone who wants to hurt her would want to hurt me, too, if they knew about my gift.”
Papa took in a deep, shuddering breath, and Elva’s desperate eyes met her mother’s.
“Oskar,” Mama said slowly, “you once agreed that if Mathilda’s path and mine should ever cross, you would support me in seeking her help to make Elva normal.”
Cay looked up from the floor at last.
“This could be our chance.” Mama looked at Elva, her eyes pleading. “You could live a normal life, unburdened by any visions of the future. No fear of water. Nothing to hide.”
Elva’s chest tightened. “What are you saying?”
“Papa will go to the council and ask for a trial for Mathilda,” Mama said, and Papa’s head swiveled to her. “He could say that she begged for one from our kind, good-hearted daughter, who caught her eye one day, and she was so pitiful that Elva could not refuse. That would keep the woman at a distance, and it wouldn’t look like we were outright supporting her.”
“I understand,” Papa said slowly. “I would go to the council on the condition that Elva agrees to have the witch strip her of her ability. For good.”
Grief burned Elva’s insides like acid. Her parents would never see the beauty of her gift or even appreciate that she might have helped them avert disaster. Her magic was as much a part of her as her arms or her legs or her heart, but they would never accept that. All they could see was that she wasn’t normal, like other girls, and not the perfect daughter they wanted.
She clenched her fists, not looking at any of her family. Mathilda had said herself that she couldn’t take away Elva’s powers even if she wanted to. Instead of being hurt and angry, Elva could be smart. She could tell Mama and Papa what they wanted to hear and pretend to agree to the stripping of her magic to give Mathilda a trial. They didn’t have to know it wasn’t possible.
“Elva, what we’re proposing makes sense,” Mama coaxed. “Years ago, I saw what a toll Math
ilda’s loneliness took on her. I want a full life for you, just like you want for her.”
“I could tell them the witch begged for a trial on bended knee,” Papa muttered, pacing the room. “And I was afraid of what she would do to my family, so I agreed to help her.”
“Papa and I just want you to be happy,” Mama went on.
Elva’s mind raced. Lying would mean having to hide her gift for the rest of her life. To pretend she was normal like her parents wanted her to be. But for Mathilda—for what they were trying to achieve—it would be worth it.
“Well?” Papa asked. “Do you agree to these conditions, Elva?”
Elva took a deep breath, aware that the next words she spoke would change the course of her future. “Yes, Papa. I agree to your conditions.”
They will never need to know, she thought.
Her father pressed a kiss against her forehead. “I’ll talk to Bauer tomorrow. We’ll set up a council meeting and put the trial to a vote,” he said. “I have to tell you, though, Elva, that even if they agree to give the witch a chance, odds are high that the trial won’t be successful.”
“But we have to try.”
“But we have to try,” he echoed with a sigh, before leaving with Mama. Rayner followed close behind them, still silent and bewildered, leaving Elva and Cay alone in the room.
“Do you think I did the right thing?” Elva asked him timidly.
“I don’t know,” her brother said, his brow furrowed. “You don’t tell me much about anything anymore, so I can’t say. But it sounds like you’re doing what you believe in.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I was afraid of burdening you with all of this,” she said, sinking into the chair Mama had vacated. “My magic, and Mathilda, and the storm that’s coming. At least they seemed to believe me about that.”
Cay studied her. “Can she really take away your magic?”
Elva looked up. His eyes were clear and sharp, and for some reason, lying to him seemed worse than doing it to her parents. Her jaw worked as she struggled for a response.