One Witch at a Time Page 5

And they had to do it without the Giant’s knowledge.

  Rudi’s thoughts were interrupted by a choked scream.

  It was Susanna Louisa. She pointed at the ground, horrified. “The bird!”

  With a vague sense of dread, Rudi let his gaze follow the direction of Susanna’s pointing finger.

  There was the snow finch, perched on the bare ground near their feet. But now it had lost all its color, and stood as still as the stones beneath it. Even the bean pod in its beak had gone white.

  Rudi blinked, and blinked again. The bird did not move.

  “What’s happened to it?” asked Susanna in a small voice. “It looks . . . frozen.”

  Then the little bird, no bigger than Susanna’s fist, cracked and crumbled. It shattered into a thousand bits of ice and was blown away on a gust of wind.

  Rudi and Susanna stood for a long moment, unable to move or speak.

  Finally, Rudi found his voice. “The border. It crossed the enchanted border into Brixen.”

  “I’m not going near that beanstalk,” Susanna Louisa announced, taking a step backward. “I don’t want to turn into a pile of ice!”

  Rudi could hardly blame her. But he had made a promise to the Brixen Witch.

  And the Brixen Witch had made them a promise too. Hadn’t she?

  “Susanna,” he told her, “you don’t want this stolen magic causing trouble at home, do you? You heard the Brixen Witch. It must be done. We are the ones who must do it. You want her to be proud of you, don’t you?”

  “I won’t know she’s proud of me if I’m frozen!” Susanna folded her arms across her chest and took another step backward.

  He tried again. “The snow finch hopped directly from the ice of Petz onto the bare ground of Brixen. As long as we cross the border by way of the vine, we’ll be safe. The enchantment is broken in that place only. Just as the Brixen Witch told us. We can trust our witch, can’t we? Of course we can.”

  Susanna pursed her lips, stomped her foot, and shook her head.

  Rudi rubbed his hands on his trousers and considered their situation. There was only one thing to do.

  He took a deep breath and approached the bean vine. Trying not to look at the spot where the snow finch had been, he lowered his head and stepped into the vine’s doorway.

  Nothing happened.

  There Rudi stood, one foot on the bare ground of Brixen and one foot on the ice of Petz. All around him the vines were gloriously green and fragrant. He inhaled deeply, but he realized that his heart was pounding.

  “Rudi?” came Susanna’s wavering voice. “Are you all right?”

  “I think so.” Rudi stepped out of the tunnel of vines to stand, once again, on Brixen soil. And once again—to his great relief—nothing happened.

  “You’re not frozen!” declared Susanna.

  With a surge of relief, Rudi let out a laugh. “We only need to keep inside the vine and we’ll be safe,” he said. “Ready?”

  “Yes, Rudi,” answered Susanna Louisa. “Now I’m ready.”

  And so they climbed. For this had to be what the Brixen Witch meant for them to do, as surely as if she were standing before them, pointing the way up.

  The climbing was easy enough, for the vines had entwined themselves to form a ladder of sorts. The footholds were perfectly spaced, so that each rung of the ladder lay within easy reach of their next step. The vines were thick, but not so thick that their fingers couldn’t grab hold. It seemed almost as if the ladder knew the size of its climbers. It grew behind them too, and on both sides, so that they were climbing in a tunnel of leaves and vines. Perhaps the Brixen Witch could not help them in Petz, but Rudi was sure that at least some of the vine’s magic must be hers. She would not let them fall.

  A sweet, green scent filled Rudi’s nostrils as he climbed. Below him, Susanna’s hair and shoulders were dusted with spent blossoms.

  “See this, Rudi?” she called to him, and she held up a pod. “If I pick one that’s the same size as my pinky finger, it’s sweet and tender. Not smaller, because there’s nothing to it. Not bigger, because then it’s too tough.” She popped the pod into her mouth and crunched.

  “Clever girl,” he muttered, echoing the witch’s words. Whether he felt admiration or vexation, he wasn’t sure, and he decided not to dwell on it.

  Was it a good idea, eating enchanted beans? But his stomach grumbled, and his mouth watered. Bean pods sprouted all around him, tempting him as he climbed.

  There’s only so much magic in the world, the Brixen Witch had said.

  Curious, Rudi pulled off the fattest pod he could find and split it open. With his thumb he popped out the glistening white beans and examined them.

  “No keyhole markings,” he called down to Susanna. “That means only the beans in the pouch are magic, then.” Which meant one other thing. “We can eat these beans!”

  He reached hungrily for the emerging bean pods. But they grew so quickly that he could scarcely grab a pod before it was too tough to eat. He finally learned to watch for withering blossoms. As the petals fell away, they left a tiny pod that grew before his eyes. By the time he reached out and plucked it from the vine, the bean pod had grown to just the proper size. After two or three tries he was able to time his picking perfectly, and in a few minutes both he and Susanna were able to eat as they climbed, without breaking their steady pace upward. For the first time in a long while, his stomach felt blessedly full and quiet. So full, in fact, that he decided not to eat any more, or he’d be uncomfortably sorry.

  They continued for what seemed like a few minutes, or perhaps it was a few hours. The vines surrounding them tinted everything green, though when Rudi peeked between the leaves to glimpse the world beyond, he noticed no change in the sunlight. He was barely tired, and Susanna had not complained about needing to rest. They must have been climbing for only minutes, then. Though, if he were being truthful, he could only guess at the time.

  “Is it true what they say about Petz?” said Susanna Louisa. “That the sun never shines there, and folk walk about with icicles hanging from their noses?”

  “Whatever makes you think that?”

  “I heard a story like that once.”

  “I think our witch would not have sent us if she thought we would come to harm,” said Rudi, trying to sound convincing. “We have to trust her.”

  “If you say so, Rudi.”

  And then, instead of growing upward, the vine ladder began tilting toward horizontal, until it became a ramp of sorts, and then it was level. The tunnel of vines grew larger, so that Rudi and Susanna were able to walk side by side and upright, only brushing their heads on the nodding leaves and pods.

  Now the tunnel began sloping downward. At first the slope was gradual, but then it dipped steeply, and once more Rudi and Susanna were climbing a ladder, but this time they were climbing down. Chill air pushed through the gaps in the vines, causing the leaves to curl and wilt. After a few more minutes, Rudi’s breath blew out in white puffs, and his fingers grew stiff with cold.

  Rudi had hoped he would be ready for whatever might come next. But now that the moment had finally come, he did not feel ready at all. The white puffs of breath came faster now, and Rudi’s heart pounded in his chest.

  Then, suddenly, his feet touched solid ground. Bitterly cold air blew at him with a sudden force through an opening in the vines. A doorway.

  And then he was kicked in the head.

  “Ouch!”

  “Sorry, Rudi!” called Susanna Louisa from above. “Why did you stop?”

  “Because there’s no more ladder,” he said, rubbing his head. “We’re at . . . the end.” Rudi dared not say more, for fear of frightening Susanna Louisa.

  She dropped down beside him and pulled her coat tightly around her against the cold. “The end?” She peered through the doorway, and then her eyes grew wide. “The beginning, more like. We’re here. We’re in Petz!”

  10

  They stepped out from the vines and into the teeth
of an icy wind. With a gasp, Susanna shrank back to the shelter of the frostbitten beanstalk. Rudi yanked his hood over his head, and his eyes watered from the sudden blast of cold. As he blinked to clear his vision, Petz took shape before him.

  It looked every bit as bleak as the stories he had heard. The first thing he noticed was the color—or rather, the lack of color. Though the thaw was well under way in Brixen, spring had not yet come to Petz. Rudi wondered if spring ever came to Petz. The clouds looked so thick and heavy that he could not even guess the time of day. The snow-covered ground was as gray and featureless as the sky, and the barren peak that loomed above bore an unfamiliar outline. Rudi did not know its name. He only knew it was not the Berg.

  Beyond a stand of wind-battered pines, Rudi made out a jumble of blocky shapes arranged in a frozen cascade along the slope. A village, such as it was. Squat dwellings of timber and stone clung to the nameless mountain like the steps of a rickety staircase; the steeply pitched roof of one house sat nearly level with the front door of the house above it. The whole collection looked as if it might slide down the mountain at the smallest sneeze.

  “Rudi?” came Susanna Louisa’s voice behind him. “Now what?”

  Rudi wondered the same thing. He was sharply aware that, for the first time in their lives, they were standing on truly foreign soil. Despite the shortcut along the enchanted beanstalk, this was no half-day jaunt to Klausen. Never before had Rudi stood in a place where he could not see the Berg, and he didn’t like it. It made him uneasy; without the Berg to establish his bearings, the entire landscape seemed somehow wrong. It was an unnerving reminder that they were far from home. Beyond the protection of the Brixen Witch.

  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.

  11

  “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.