Hazel's Heart

by Terri Reid

“Thanks, Mom,” Hazel said. “That would be great.”

  Henry came out of the barn and hurried toward the cruiser. “Ready when you are,” he said.

  Joseph nodded slowly, still amazed at the willingness of the Willoughbys to help without question. Perhaps they deserved more information than he had been willing to divulge at first, but some secrets he still wasn’t ready to share.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Joseph pulled out onto the road and turned south, heading through Kettle Moraine State Park. “First, I need to tell you that the safety of our village and our people has depended on the secrecy we’ve been able to maintain for over two hundred years.”

  “You’ve been living in this area for over two hundred years, and no one knows about you?” Henry asked.

  Joseph nodded, “A select few know about us,” he explained. “As a matter of fact, my grandfather mentioned that one of the Willoughbys saved my father’s life when he was a boy. So, at least one of your ancestors kept our secret.”

  “Where did you come from?” Henry asked.

  “We came from a small village in the Bavarian Alps,” he explained. “We lived quietly there for generations, keeping to ourselves and our traditions. But, as the politics in Germany changed and the countryside became more populated, we realized that we would not be able to hide our unique characteristics much longer.”

  “Unique characteristics?” Rowan asked.

  Joseph looked through the rearview mirror and met her eyes. “We are wulf folks,” he said. “Wolf people.”

  “Really?” she asked, her eyes shining with interest. “How cool! I’ve always heard rumors, but I’ve never actually seen one.”

  Joseph turned and looked at Hazel, who was smiling.

  “You really don’t know what to expect when you’re dealing with a Willoughby,” she said.

  He shook his head. “No, I suppose you don’t,” he replied. Then he looked back at Rowan through the mirror. “No terror? No concerns? No worries?”

  Rowan met his eyes and shook her head. “Joseph, all my life I’ve been judged by people who thought they knew who and what I was better than I did,” she said. “They were generally wrong. Why would I judge you with that same criteria?”

  He shook his head. “This is very unusual behavior,” he said slowly.

  “How do the witches you’ve met usually behave?” Hazel teased.

  He nodded. “Okay, fair point,” he agreed. “So, in order to escape persecution, the village elders decided to move to a place that we had heard about, a place that was like the meadows of Bavaria but with no people around for hundreds of miles. We packed up everything we had, booked an entire ship to transport us, and came to America.”

  “And have been able to hide out ever since?” Henry asked. “That’s amazing.”

  Joseph shrugged. “Well, we haven’t gone totally unnoticed,” he said. “The research you did probably spoke of sightings of a beast, on Bray Road, correct?”

  Henry nodded. “Yes, it did.”

  “Yes, occasionally one of our young villagers has too much ale and too much wanderlust,” Joseph explained. “They decide to explore the area outside the village. Luckily no one has ever been able to photograph one of us.”

  “But how do you hide your village from above?” Rowan asked. “With drones and crop-dusters in the area, someone is bound to see you.”

  “We in our village are not only shapeshifters,” Joseph explained. “We also carry some of the blood of Merlin in our veins. It is not as strong as your blood, but it gives us enough ability to camouflage the village from the sky.”

  Hazel turned to him. “So, you are a witch too?” she asked.

  “A distant relation I think would be a better term,” he said. “But we have certain abilities we can still use.”

  “Yesterday, when you pulled into the barnyard,” Henry said. “You seemed to immediately sense that something was happening to Hazel. Is that one of those abilities?”

  He nodded and slid his hand over to grasp Hazel’s hand for a moment. “When we have a connection to someone,” he said, meeting her eyes, “we can feel their emotions.”

  “I admit that I was spooking myself,” Hazel said. “Even before I got to the orchard.”

  He squeezed her hand gently and then released it. “Good thing you’re not quite as cool as you appear,” he said.

  “So, you got to Hazel before we did?” Rowan asked.

  “That’s right,” Henry said to Rowan. “I didn’t have a chance to tell you. I saw Joseph, but I didn’t know it was Joseph at the time, behind Hazel when we came over the hill in the Jeep.”

  “Joseph saved me and Lefty,” Hazel said. “He took out the man who was holding me just before they were going to kill Lefty. Then he frightened the rest of them away.”

  “Which is why they were already running before we got there,” Rowan said.

  “But aren’t you concerned that word is going to get out about you, now that you’ve been seen?” Henry asked.

  “Fuzzy was just behind him,” Hazel said. “So, we were just going to say that Fuzzy attacked and then scared them.”

  Henry shook his head slowly. “Some people might believe that,” he said. “And since Wanda was leading the group, most of them were probably fools. But I think you need to be sure your village is aware of the possible danger from the coven.”

  Hazel sighed. “Yes, any friends of ours is an enemy to them.”

  Joseph pulled onto the shoulder and looked around. Then he drove the cruiser into the hiding place. He turned and looked at them. “I would be proud to fight your enemies,” he said. “Now, if you would follow me, we need to hurry to the village.”

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Hazel slipped out of the car and looked around but only saw a large field and woods in the distance. “How far are we running?” she asked.

  “Not far,” Joseph said, coming around the car to her.

  “Is it like Brigadoon, hidden somewhere?” she said, gazing around again.

  He smiled. “Something like that,” he replied. Then he turned to Rowan and Henry. “Ready?”

  “Sure, lead the way,” Rowan said.

  They ran down the narrow deer path, and Hazel noticed that as the path angled downwards, the grass got taller, and they slowly sunk out of sight. “This is amazing,” she said as the path widened and she could run alongside Joseph. “Total optical illusion.”

  He nodded. “We have been cultivating the grass like that for decades,” he said.

  What do you do when it snows?” she asked, her question coming out in short breaths.

  “We’ve trained the snowdrifts to lay in levels too,” he said with a smile.

  She sent him a look of pure skepticism, and he laughed. “No, for that we use the same kind of magic we use to hide the town from above,” he said. The path ended in a small clearing, and they all stopped and caught their breath.

  “Speaking of magic,” Joseph continued, “the power used to hide the village is not an ability that all townsfolk have. It is for the high priest, my grandfather, and then passed down through his line. The people here have led sheltered lives, and many believe in old superstitions.”

  Hazel eyed him. “Like kill the witch?” she asked.

  He nodded slowly, looking at Hazel. “They believe in healers,” he said. “So, we don’t have a problem there…”

  “But you don’t want me raining down puppies and kittens in the middle of the town square,” she interrupted.

  “Pretty much,” he said.

  “No problem,” she said with an understanding smile. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

  He stepped forward and pushed aside a thick bush. “Welcome to Wulffolk,” he said.

  They stepped past him through a dense grove and then out the other side to see the beautiful Alpine village before them.

  “It’s gorgeous,” Rowan said. “It’s like a fairytale city.”

  Joseph nodded. “You can see the steeple o
f the church, just a half-mile from here,” he explained. “That’s where Gabriella’s sick room is.”

  “Lead the way,” Henry said. “And we’ll follow.”

  Joseph jogged ahead, leading them onto the cobblestone street, and then hurried them through the town square and towards the church. Many of the townspeople, dressed in traditional Bavarian clothing, stared at them as they ran alongside Joseph.

  Hazel glanced around, smiling as she ran past the gawkers. “We could have dressed differently,” she said. “If that would have helped.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “But what you are wearing is not important. Getting you to Gabriella is.”

  The large oak doors to the church opened when they were only a few yards away, and a tall, distinguished-looking, older man stepped out. “I see you brought them,” he said with a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Willoughbys. I am Henrich Norwalk, Joseph’s grandfather, and we are very grateful.”

  “Don’t thank us yet,” Rowan said as she ran up the stairs. “Let us see what we can do.”

  They walked through the doors and entered the chapel, with its wooden seats, ornate, cut-glass windows, carved wooden statues and twenty-foot, domed ceiling. “The staircase is through here,” Joseph said, leading them through the chapel to the other side of the church.

  Hazel stared at the masterfully carved arches that held up the ceiling. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

  “Thank you,” Henrich said. “There is a lot of tradition built into this church.”

  She looked across the room and saw two carved angels hanging above the altar.

  Henrich followed her eyes. “Angels warned our people to move away from Germany,” he said. “They told us that we would no longer be safe there. So, we give them a special place of honor in our chapel.”

  She smiled at him and nodded. “I’m sure they would be pleased.”

  They reached the narrow staircase. Joseph led the way, followed immediately by Rowan and Henry, with Hazel and Henrich taking up the end.

  They hurried down the hall, and Joseph pushed the door open quickly. Gabriella lay in the bed, her face pale and wan. Rowan moved past him and laid her hands on the little girl’s neck.

  “Is she…” Joseph asked, despair in his voice.

  “No,” Rowan whispered. “She’s still with us, but barely.”

  Henry knelt down next to Rowan. “What do you want me to do?” he asked.

  “I need to find out what we’re dealing with,” Rowan said. “Then we can figure out a plan.” She looked up at Hazel. “I might need some of my herbs.”

  Hazel nodded. “I can be discreet,” she said.

  Rowan smiled at her sister, then closed her eyes and, with her mind, traveled through the little girl’s body. “Brain and nervous system are functioning,” she whispered. “Lungs are working. Heart is strong, and there doesn’t seem to be any damage on it. Stomach is tiny. She hasn’t been eating. Liver. Oh, my, her liver is in really bad shape and her kidneys are not much better.”

  “Why?” Hazel asked, leaning over the child. “Look closer. Is there a blockage?”

  Rowan nodded and explored the small organ, shaking her head. “No blockage,” she said slowly. “But there are spots that are dark and shriveled.”

  She opened her eyes and looked at Hazel. “I’ll need milk thistle,” she said.

  Hazel stepped into the corner of the room and reached behind her back, pulling out a small brown bottle and handing it to Rowan. “Good thing I brought it along with me,” she improvised.

  “You don’t have to hide your abilities from my grandfather,” Joseph explained. “He understands who you are and how you can help.”

  Hazel smiled at Henrich. “Good,” she said. “Thank you.”

  Rowan opened the bottle and took a gulp and then handed it to Henry, who did the same.

  “Why are they drinking it?” Henrich asked.

  “Because they are going to take the illness out of Gabriella and bring it into their own bodies,” Hazel explained. “The milk thistle will help protect their organs from whatever it is that caused this.”

  Rowan looked over at Henry. “Are you ready?” she asked.

  He leaned over, placed a kiss on her lips, and nodded. “Now I’m ready.”

  Henry spoke first:

  To heal the body and remove the stain,

  To calm the fear and erase the pain,

  Then Rowan finished:

  We willingly take the pain from thee.

  As we ask, so mote it be.

  Henry placed his hands over Rowan’s, and they both closed their eyes and concentrated on healing the child’s liver. Joseph touched Hazel’s hand and motioned for her to step outside the room. After glancing over at her sister and seeing that she was fine, she nodded and stepped into the hallway.

  “What would cause liver damage?” he asked.

  “Well, since Rowan didn’t find blockage or tumors, I would say that it was an environmental source,” Hazel explained.

  “Environmental?” he asked.

  “She was poisoned,” Hazel replied.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Hazel pulled out her phone and glanced at the time. Rowan and Henry had been working on Gabriella for thirty minutes. If they didn’t rest for at least a little while, Hazel was concerned they could damage their own bodies. She was about to say something when Rowan sighed and opened her eyes.

  She looked up at Joseph and smiled. “She’s out of the woods,” she breathed softly. “But we still have some work to do.”

  “What did you find?” he asked. “Could you tell…”

  “As we pulled it from her body into ours,” Henry said, “I received a bitter taste in my mouth. So, I believe whatever caused this was ingested.”

  “Is she able to talk?” Joseph asked.

  Just then, Gabriella opened her eyes and smiled up at Joseph. “Joseph,” she exclaimed, her voice stronger. “You came back.”

  Hazel moved back so Joseph could get to the little girl. “I did,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I came back, and I brought my friends.”

  Gabriella turned and smiled at Rowan and Henry. “I saw you in my dreams,” she said. “You were making me all better. You took the pain away.”

  Rowan reached over and stroked the child’s cheek. “You were very brave, sweetheart,” she said. “And we have a little more to do, but we want you to rest for a little bit and drink a little of this medicine.”

  The little girl winced. “Please, not medicine,” she said. “It always hurts my stomach when I have to take it.”

  Rowan shot Hazel a concerned glance. “How does it hurt your stomach, sweetheart?”

  “It tastes sour, and then it makes me have cramps in my stomach,” she said.

  “Well, this medicine is my special medicine that won’t make that happen to you,” she said, opening the bottle. “Here, why don’t you smell it?”

  Very hesitantly, the child drew forward and sniffed the opened bottle. Her eyes widened in surprise. Then she sniffed it again. “It smells like honey.”

  Rowan nodded. “It has honey and lavender and milk thistle in it,” she explained. “I call it fairy tea because I’m sure that’s what the fairies must drink when it’s tea time.”

  “Fairy tea?” Gabriella asked in wonder. “Not medicine.”

  Joseph laughed. “No, not medicine at all,” he said. “Fairy tea. And now will you take some?”

  Hazel started to move toward the bed when she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. A woman, obviously a townsperson, had been coming toward the bedroom with a bottle in her hand, but when she heard noises, she quickly turned away.

  There was something furtive in the woman’s approach and more than a little suspicious in her quick departure. Hazel quietly slipped out of the room and walked to the end of the hall. She watched the woman go down the rest of the stairs and then go back behind the staircase. Moving stealthily, Hazel followed her down and moved behind the stai
rcase to find a small door.

  Pushing it open, Hazel found a path that led to a number of cottages behind the church. She glanced around and saw the woman running toward one of them. Slipping out the door, Hazel followed the woman to the last cottage on the small dirt road.

  Hazel paused at the door that was wide open and heard crashing coming from within. She stepped into the cottage and watched the woman opening bottles and frantically draining them down her sink.

  “Getting rid of the evidence?” Hazel asked mildly.

  The woman turned and stared. “Who are you?” she asked.

  Hazel shrugged. “Just an outsider brought in to save the life of the child you were poisoning,” she replied.

  The look on the woman’s face was enough of a confession for Hazel. “Well, you can’t prove anything,” the woman sneered. “This is the last bottle, and it’s—”

  The woman yelped when the bottle was magically pulled from her hand into Hazel’s grip.

  “Sorry,” Hazel said. “I needed it for evidence.”

  “You don’t know who you are dealing with,” the woman said.

  “Same goes,” Hazel replied.

  Suddenly, the woman growled low in her throat, and she bent her head back while her body convulsed and shuddered. Hazel watched in shocked awe as skin was replaced by fur and muscle and fangs and claws replaced teeth and fingernails. The wolf woman towered over Hazel and glared at her with yellow eyes.

  “Impressive,” Hazel said, swallowing audibly. “And fairly freaky.”

  The wolf woman charged Hazel. Hazel swung her arm across her body and toward the creature. “Bad dog!” she cried out.

  Immediately, a thick leather muzzle encompassed the wolf woman’s snout and head. She stumbled back, confused.

  “See, there’s that same goes thing,” Hazel said, “that you didn’t even pay attention to.”

  Then Hazel waved her hand again, and the woman’s claws were bound in rope. The wolf woman looked down at the rope and then up at Hazel, rage in her eyes.

  “Okay, one more thing,” Hazel said. “To complete your ensemble.” She waved her hand at the wolf woman. “Cone of shame.”

  An opaque plastic collar that was about eighteen inches tall appeared on the woman’s throat.