One Witch at a Time (11 page)

Agatha shrugged. “One way to find out, yes?” She
stared at him with hand outstretched, waiting.

But Rudi stood his ground. “We need to take the beans inside and put them back where you found them. We made a bargain.”

Agatha persisted. “I only want to borrow one bean. I'll give it back. You want to get inside, don't you?”

Rudi squinted at her. “How do you know it will work?”

“How do you know it won't?”

He sighed in exasperation. It reminded him of his arguments with Oma. Arguments he always lost.

And so Rudi struggled with the buttons of his coat, until finally he was able to reach into his trouser pocket for the little pouch of beans. As he drew it out, it was caught by the wind. Susanna gasped, and Rudi tightened his grip on the strings. One careless gesture, and the magic beans would slip from his stiff fingers and sail away into the cloud and fog, to be lost forever. He shuddered at the thought.

Turning his back to the rim of the ridge, he pulled carefully at the strings of the pouch, reached inside, and drew out a single white bean. Its keyhole mark glinted darkly in the gray light.

“Be careful,” he said again as he handed it to Agatha. He sounded embarrassingly like his mother, but just now he didn't care.

With a satisfied grin, Agatha took the bean and
promptly pushed it into the keyhole of the wooden door.

“Now what?” said Susanna, leaning closer to inspect the result.

“Now the key.” Once more, Agatha inserted the heavy iron key into the lock. Rudi held his breath.

This time the key turned with a loud
click
. The door swung open.

And so they
stood at the entrance to the Giant's fortress.

Behind them the icy wind wailed, unabated. Before them lay a calm green meadow full of wildflowers and droning honeybees. A tall hedge, studded with bramble and wild roses, followed the inner course of the wall. A distant hillside was dotted with sheep. And in the center of it all stood a grand house, built of the gray stone of the mountain.

A blessedly warm breeze bathed Rudi's frostbitten face, but his feet refused to carry him into the fortress. “How did you do that?”

Agatha shrugged. “The Giant's lock. The Giant's magic bean. It makes sense, yes?” She stooped to retrieve the bean from the ground and handed it to Rudi, who hurried to return it to the safety of the pouch.

“Look, Rudi! Lambs!” Susanna
pushed past him through the doorway and into summer in full flower.

Into the realm of the
hexenmeister
.

Rudi knew he must follow her, but still he hesitated. It was one thing to venture into a foreign witch's province. It was another thing to trespass in a witch's own backyard.

At that moment, a freezing gust pushed at Rudi's back and slipped its icy fingers down his neck. With a shudder, Rudi lurched across the threshold and into the midst of enchanted summer.

The sweet soft air covered him like a blanket. He inhaled deeply the scent of musky hedge roses and freshly mown hay. He lifted his face to the sun and pulled off his fur hat to feel the warmth on his bare head. “So the story is true,” he said.

“I told you,” said Agatha, shutting the door behind her and erasing all sign of winter. “Don't worry. It opens again, see?” She demonstrated, and Rudi let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

Susanna fluttered over to them. “The flowers smell lovely, Rudi. The grass is so green and soft. How can such a beautiful place be home to such an awful witch?” She unwrapped her borrowed woolen scarf and unbuttoned her coat.

Rudi glanced around, half-expecting something—or someone—to swoop down upon them. “We must be careful.”

Agatha plucked a pink rosebud, closed her eyes, and inhaled its scent. Pocketing the rosebud, she gave a nod toward the manor. “The storehouse is around back. Stay behind the hedge, where he can't see us.”

And so she led them single file along the narrow space between the hedge and the wall, where they could remain concealed from watchful eyes. Through the hedge Rudi caught occasional glimpses of the Giant's house.

“I hear the lambs, Rudi,” said Susanna in a loud whisper. “And cows! Don't you wish we could take a cow home to Brixen? Why does one person own so much? Even if he is a witch? Why does he get a beautiful house when our dear little witch gets only a cave inside a mountain?”

Rudi wished he knew the answers to her questions. He wished he could demonstrate a superior knowledge of witches. But he could only shrug. “Perhaps our witch prefers humble things.”

“I cannot imagine any witch being humble about anything,” Agatha whispered over her shoulder. “It would be like a snake that doesn't slither.”

Despite Agatha's confidence, Rudi's uneasy feeling would not subside. But there was no movement except for birds rustling in the hedge; no sound except the
buzzing of honeybees and the distant bawling of sheep. Rudi wondered how the witch of Petz had managed to steal the summer. Perhaps it was all an illusion. An enchantment, meant to lure unsuspecting trespassers into the witch's lair, like so many moths to a web. Whatever it was, it didn't seem like the work of a second-rate witch.

“Listen,” said Rudi. “If the Giant shows himself before we get to the storehouse, we should drop the beans and run. It's not the best thing, but it might have to do.”

“If the Giant shows himself, we're done for anyway,” said Agatha. “So I suggest we don't rouse him in the first place.”

After a few minutes' wary walking, they had rounded the manor house and now were standing within sight of its back garden. They dashed across a small expanse of open meadow toward another stone wall, this one only as high as Rudi's waist. The wall enclosed a cobbled yard with a chicken coop and a kitchen garden full of fragrant herbs. The front of the house had been regal and imposing. But here, in the back, it was homey. Welcoming. Rudi almost wished he could sit on the wall and bask in the sunlight.

“There's the storehouse,” whispered Agatha, indicating a small stone outbuilding at the far end of the wall. “The door is on the other side.”

Rudi nudged Susanna Louisa, who was gazing
dreamily at the hens scratching in the yard. “Listen, Susanna, we should stay together. We'll return the beans and then go.”

She nodded, but she was watching the chickens so intently that Rudi wondered if she had heard him. He grasped her by the arm. “We're ready, Agatha.”

With one last glance toward the manor house, Agatha pushed away from the wall and dashed toward the storehouse.

Before Rudi could follow, Susanna gasped. Her mouth hung open, and she pointed at the courtyard.

Rudi froze. “What's wrong?”

“There!” cried Susanna, forgetting all about being quiet. “Hildy!”

“Where? Who?” And then he remembered. Hildy was Susanna Louisa's pet hen.

“That's impossible, Susanna. Hildy is back home in Brixen.”

“No! That's her!” And Susanna Louisa scrambled to climb the low wall.

“Rudi!” said Agatha from the other direction. “Are you coming?”

Rudi felt the blood drain from his head. He had no choice. He was responsible for Susanna Louisa. He could not let her be seized by the Giant because of a familiar-looking chicken.

“Wait!” he called to Agatha. He fumbled in his
pocket, and then finally drew out the little pouch and tossed it to her. In a single motion she caught the pouch, turned, and bolted toward the storehouse.

Susanna had managed to climb onto the wall, and now she stood with a full view of the courtyard. And the chickens had a full view of her. They scurried and squawked, and Rudi would have shushed them if he'd thought it would do any good.

“Hildy!” called Susanna. “Come here!”

Rudi frantically tugged at Susanna's ankle. “I don't think chickens come when you call them.”

“Of course they don't. You have to go get her.”

“Don't be silly, Susanna! That hen only looks like Hildy.”

“That
is
her! I'd know her speckles anywhere. Besides, I can prove it. She has a scar on her leg. She got it in a fight with a mean rooster. And I rescued her, and now she's my very own hen, and that nasty
hexenmeister
can't have her!”

Several thoughts swirled in Rudi's head. But the first thing he blurted was, “
You
rescued Hildy from a rooster? How?”

“Easy. I stood in the yard and screamed until Papa came running and separated them with a rake.”

“Oh.”

“And ever since, Hildy is my very own hen. I'd know her
anywhere. How did she get to Petz? We need to take her home! Please, Rudi. We can't leave Hildy here!”

Rudi winced. Despite his better judgment, something told him they would not be leaving without this hen. And something
else
told him that because of the racket they were making, they might have company very soon. He glanced toward the storehouse, but there was no sign yet of Agatha. How long could it take to toss a handful of beans into the proper sack?

“Hildy!” Susanna called again. “Come here now!”

Before he could change his mind, Rudi climbed onto the low stone wall. He kept one eye on the storehouse and one eye on the speckled hen, who fluttered toward him just inside the wall. As soon as Hildy passed him, Rudi leaped down and gave chase. Susanna jumped in front of Hildy to block her path. In the confusion, the hen flapped into a corner of the yard. Seeing his chance—perhaps his only chance—Rudi dove onto the cobbles and wrapped his arms around Hildy.

Hildy squawked wildly and pecked the air. She kicked her legs, and tried to flap her wings, but Rudi held on tight.

“Here, Rudi!” It was Agatha, appearing out of nowhere and offering an empty burlap sack.

In a flurry of speckled feathers, Rudi grabbed the sack and stuffed Hildy in.

“We did it!”
Susanna threw her arms around Agatha. “Hildy! You're saved!”

Inside the sack, Hildy gave one last halfhearted flutter, as if already accepting her fate. The other chickens, apparently relieved that the attention had not been directed at them, went back to their clucking and scratching. Rudi sat sprawled on the cobbles, breathless and hot. He had torn his pants and bruised his knee. His knuckle was bleeding.

“Thank you, Rudi!” whispered Susanna Louisa, as if whispering mattered now.

Rudi brushed the dust out of his hair with one hand, and sucked on the bloody knuckle of the other.

Agatha helped him to his feet. “We should go. Now.”

“The beans,” he gasped. “Did you—”

But his words were interrupted by a sound. It started low and far away.

Fummm.

Susanna's eyes grew wide. “Rudi? What was that?”

Rudi swallowed a lump the size of a hen's egg. “I'm not sure. . . .”

“It's time to go,” said Agatha grimly, and she vaulted over the stone wall.

Fummm. . . . Fummm.
The low sound was louder now, and closer. Rudi wasn't sure if he heard it with his ears or felt it with his body, or both. He grabbed Susanna and heaved her over the wall into Agatha's arms.

Fummm. . . . Fummm. . . . FUMMM.

“Rudi! Hurry!” Susanna yelped.

Rudi hoisted the squawking sack onto his shoulder and scrambled over the wall.

FUMMM. . . .

The sound was coming from inside the manor house. And it was most definitely getting closer. Agatha was already sprinting for the hedge.

Rudi grabbed Susanna's hand. “Run!”

Rudi and Susanna
raced across the meadow after Agatha. If they could reach the shelter of the hedge before the Giant caught sight of them, they might have a chance to escape.

FUMMM. . . .

They dived through an opening in the hedge just as new sounds came to Rudi's ears. A door slamming. A voice bellowing in the open air. “Who dares to invade my home? Where is the thief whose blood is spilled on my doorstep?”