One Witch at a Time (8 page)

Still, he would do what he must do, and return the magic beans before the witch of Petz went abroad looking for them. Rudi buttoned his coat and took Susanna's hand. “Now we find the Giant's lair, I suppose. Let's go.”

But Susanna Louisa pulled back and shook her head. “How will we find the vine again when it's time to go home? How do we even know it will still be here?”

Rudi rubbed his ear and wrinkled his nose. He made up his mind to sound convincing. “Of course the vine will be here. Look, it's sturdy and strong. It's only a little frostbitten at the edges, that's all. Our witch wouldn't let us get stuck here, would she? Of course she wouldn't.” He cleared his throat, which had suddenly gone dry. “See those trees, and the village beyond? We only have to remember that the vine is here, at the bottom of the village and through the trees. See? Nothing to worry about. Nothing at all.” He ventured a smile.

Susanna bit her lip. She regarded the vine, and then the village. She blinked up at Rudi, and the doubt in her eyes melted into the usual expression of trust and adoration. She took his hand once more. “Let's go, then, so we can go back home.”

They walked toward the village on a lane packed with a winter's worth of snow. Up the slope, past one weathered house, and then another and another. Sprigs of mistletoe were nailed to each heavy wooden door. Rudi wondered if it was meant for decoration, or for protection, or both. Shutters stood open, once brightly painted but now faded to only a suggestion of color. Soft light glowed behind thick panes of glass. The sharp aroma of wood smoke filled the air.

Now Rudi heard voices ahead, around a bend in the lane. A lively conversation was under way, though Rudi could not make out any words. One deep voice laughed. Another, deeper voice exclaimed loudly, and the first voice laughed again.

“Those folk sound ordinary enough,” Rudi said, though he remained wary.

Susanna quickened her step. “Let's go ask them where their witch lives.”

“Wait!” Rudi reached out and grasped her by the elbow. He turned her to face him, and he spoke with all the authority he could muster. “We can't just barge in and announce such a thing. We're the foreigners here, remember? We must be on our guard.”

She blinked up at him and nodded obediently. And now, with proper caution, they rounded the bend and continued toward the voices.

Ahead of them, in the gloom of the narrow lane, Rudi made out two large, ghostly figures. They looked like great gray bears walking upright.

Then, as Rudi and Susanna drew nearer, the ghostly figures became two men, dressed in thick coats of shearling trimmed with fur. They wore fur-lined hats pulled low and tied under their chins. The men were busy unloading bundles of kindling from a sled and
stacking them next to the nearest house. Rudi loosened his grip on Susanna's hand, which meant he had been squeezing it more tightly than he'd realized.

The men's noisy unloading stopped abruptly as they noticed the two children standing before them.

“Ho now, what's this?” boomed the first man. He was the man Rudi had heard laughing. “Look here, Franz. Visitors!”

The other man pushed his hat back on his forehead and regarded Rudi and Susanna. “So they are, Ludwig.” Then he squinted at them. “Are ye lost? I never have seen neither one of you before, have I?”

“No,” squeaked Rudi in answer to both questions, though he could find no real reason to be worried. The two men seemed friendly enough, if perhaps a bit loud. “We've come on an errand.”

“Rudi!” hissed Susanna Louisa, tugging his arm. “I don't see any icicles on their noses.”

Rudi's face burned with embarrassment, but neither man seemed to have heard, much less to have taken offense. Then, deciding Susanna had raised a good point, Rudi asked, “We
are
in Petz. Aren't we?”

“Where else?” said the first man, Ludwig, who seemed ready to burst out laughing again at any moment. “What's your errand, if you don't mind my asking?”

Rudi struggled to find the proper answer. He wanted to be polite, but he still thought it wasn't a good
idea to announce his intentions to the first strangers they met.

“We've come to find out where your great giant witch lives,” blurted Susanna Louisa. “Do you know where that is?”

Rudi stared at her in horror.

“You want to go home, don't you?” Susanna shivered and pulled her coat tightly around her against the bitter cold.

Ludwig sputtered and choked, as if his laugh had gotten tangled on its way out. “Hold on, now,” he said, shaking his head and tugging off his thick gloves. His fingers loosened the rawhide laces beneath his chin, and he pulled off his furry hat, revealing an unruly mop of thick red hair. “Now then, let's try this again with ears,” he said, his voice dropping to a more normal volume. He bent down, placed his hands on his knees, and addressed Susanna Louisa. “Because it sounded to me, under my earflaps, like you said you were looking for the witch's house.”

Susanna nodded.

Ludwig stood up straight, and his eyebrows disappeared under his shock of hair. “You don't say. Hear that, Franz?”

“Hear what?” said Franz from under his hat.

Ludwig waved dismissively at Franz, who returned to unloading and stacking the kindling. Ludwig's
cheerful face had become solemn, and he regarded Rudi and Susanna Louisa in turn. “I can tell by your pitifully inadequate manner of dress that you're not from here.”

“We've come from Brixen,” offered Susanna, to Rudi's dismay.

“Brixen?” blurted Ludwig. “What sort of business would two little weeds from Brixen have with our witch?”

Rudi shifted uncomfortably. “I'd rather not say. It's bad luck to talk of such things.”

Ludwig snorted. “Your bad luck is only beginning.” He regarded Rudi with a squint. “Is there any way I can dissuade you from such a task?”

“No,” said Rudi. “Though, truthfully, I wish you could.”

“So do I,” said Ludwig, and Rudi fought the urge to let him try. But they were here. They might as well finish the task they had come for.

“The witch's manor is there,” said Ludwig, nodding upslope. “At the top of the village.” An uneasy look passed across Ludwig's face. “At least have a meal before you go. We don't have much, but you must be dreadful starved, come all the way from Brixen.” He stepped to the heavy wooden door of the house and swung it open wide. “Agatha! We have company!”

“Coming, Papa!” came a voice from inside the house.

A moment later, the voice's owner stood in the doorway. Her red hair hung loose and shining around her shoulders, and though she was no longer wearing her heavy shearling coat, Rudi knew her at once.

“You!” cried Susanna,
pointing.

Shocked recognition flashed in the red-haired girl's face, but it disappeared just as quickly. “So I am!” she answered, lifting her chin. “I suppose you are
you
?”

Thus she managed to flummox Susanna Louisa, who stood—for once—at a loss for words.

“My daughter, Agatha,” said Ludwig, who was too busy stomping the snow from his boots to notice the tense exchange.

Rudi's mind swirled with a dozen thoughts and feelings, but they were all pushed aside by one word.

Agatha.

So that was her name.

Of course the shearling girl lived in Petz, Rudi thought. It made sense. The beans had come from Petz, after all. Wouldn't their bearer have come from here too?

Remembering his manners, Rudi introduced himself and Susanna, whose mouth still hung open.

“Pleased to meet you,” said Agatha lightly, as if she had never laid eyes on either of them before this moment.

But once her father pushed past them and into the house, she scowled fiercely at Rudi and Susanna, and urgently placed a finger to her lips.

Now it was Rudi's turn to be flummoxed. Why should their acquaintance be a secret? Was Agatha afraid of her father? Though Rudi had met him only a few moments before, he couldn't imagine anyone being afraid of Ludwig.

And yet Agatha's expression was so pleading that Rudi decided to play along, for now. Once again he was struck by the same curiosity he'd felt when he'd seen her in the marketplace, looking lost and anxious. This girl had caused him all manner of trouble—she was the reason he and Susanna had been compelled to venture to Petz in the first place—and yet clearly there was more going on than Rudi knew.

He wanted to find out.

At that same moment Susanna Louisa found her voice. “I know—”

Rudi elbowed her, more forcefully than he'd
intended, but it did the trick. She held her tongue once more.

“Don't stand there letting winter into the house,” called Ludwig. “Come inside and warm up!”

Rudi's thoughts were crowded aside by the delicious aroma of something cooking. Before they knew it, he and Susanna were ushered into the cottage and served a small but tasty meal of mutton-bone soup, and cabbage fried in a bit of bacon fat. It was the best meal Rudi had eaten in months. He was immensely grateful, all the more because Ludwig and Agatha clearly had so little to share.

Agatha bustled from larder to table, in an effort (Rudi suspected) to keep Susanna Louisa's mouth full for as long as possible. Ludwig kept up a brisk conversation as they ate. He was hoping for a thaw, so that he might find the boot he'd lost under the snow last September. He remarked how Rudi and Susanna seemed quite ordinary, despite all the stories he'd heard about the peculiar folk of Brixen. There was only one thing Ludwig did not mention during the meal—the giant witch. And Agatha said nothing at all.

There were many questions Rudi knew he ought to ask. And yet his sharp edge of purpose had dulled along with his hunger. Petz wasn't so terribly bleak after all (now that he was warm and fed), and the people were cordial and welcoming. Why did he need to go
any farther, and risk the wrath of the witch of Petz? Couldn't they just stay here awhile, and leave the beans with Agatha? She had found them in the first place. She must know where to return them to.

But Rudi knew he could not leave the beans with Agatha, any more than he could have left them at the border. He knew better than anyone else that magic half-returned is magic not returned at all. He must deliver the beans to the Giant's doorstep, as his own witch had instructed.

And yet, instead of asking the questions that ached to be asked—about the witch of Petz, or how Agatha had come to possess the magic beans, or why she was being so secretive—Rudi simply said, “Thank you for your kindness, Master Ludwig. The dinner was delicious.”

“None of this ‘master' nonsense, now. Call me Ludwig.” His jolly mood vanished, and his eyes bore into Rudi's. “And now your stomachs are full, will you listen to reason? Don't go near the witch's fortress. Nothing good can come of it.”

“I'm grateful for your concern,” said Rudi, and he meant it. “But we must. Our own witch has sent us.” He felt an unexpected relief at being able to speak openly of witches. Besides, Susanna had been right. The sooner they finished their errand, the sooner they could go home.

“What sort of witch sends mere children to do her bidding?” growled Ludwig.

Pride and loyalty welled up in Rudi's chest. “The Brixen Witch trusts me.”

“Us,” corrected Susanna Louisa. “The Brixen Witch trusts
us
.”

Rudi shifted in his chair, and his face burned. But she was right.

Ludwig worked at smoothing his unruly hair. “As long as I live, I'll never understand the likes of witches. I hope your own witch has provided you with a means to get back to Brixen. Because
our
witch has long ago laid a hex on the borders of Petz.”

“We know,” said Susanna, her eyes wide. “If you so much as step across the border, you're turned to ice and you shatter into a thousand pieces and blow away and are never seen again.”

The snow finch, Rudi recalled with a shudder.

“Quite so,” said Ludwig. “You hear that, daughter? Even foreigners know how foolish it would be to try to leave Petz.”

Agatha made no response, but sat demurely at the table, hands in her lap. “It's an old story,” she said finally, fixing her brown eyes on Rudi. “Everyone has heard it.”

“As well they should,” said Ludwig, with a pointed glance at his daughter. Agatha's face remained
expressionless, though she would not meet her father's gaze.

Rudi observed this tense exchange without remark, and wondered what they were really quarreling about.

Then all at once he understood.

Agatha had been to Klausen and back, hadn't she? Which meant that she had crossed the enchanted border without the aid of the magic beanstalk, and yet somehow she had not met the same fate as the snow finch. And she had done it, Rudi was sure, without telling her father.

“Don't worry,” said Susanna Louisa, oblivious to the friction between father and daughter. “Our own witch helped us get here, and she will help us get home again.”

“But while we're in Petz, we are on our own,” Rudi added. “We must venture to the witch's lair but avoid the witch himself, if we want to go home again.”

“Which we do,” added Susanna Louisa.

“Of course you do,” said Ludwig, his face softening. “But truly, I cannot advise you. You'd never catch me anywhere near the place.”

“If you keep to the shadows, you'll manage. The Giant's eyesight is lacking, and so is his hearing.” This was Agatha, who still would not look at her father as she spoke.

“He doesn't sound very worrisome, for a witch,” said Susanna hopefully.

“He makes up for it in other ways,” answered Ludwig, still frowning at his daughter. “They say he can smell a drop of blood a mile away.”

“Pardon me,” said Rudi. “Why do you call your witch ‘the Giant'?”