by Jenni James
“Keep your voice down, boy. He is not here. It is he who drove her to a secluded section of the forest where she will wander for several days until she is ravaged by the wolves.”
“You did what?”
She grinned. “The poor girl simply could not do all that was expected of her. She has no reason to live, and I will not have her getting in my way. I anticipate Adale home from this errand any moment now.”
“My father would never leave Gretel alone in the forest like that, nor would he take his cart and horse out in such a storm. You must be mad!”
“Interesting, then.” She raised one dark eyebrow. “For that is exactly what he did.”
Hansel took the last few steps to her. “What did you do to him? He was sane until he met you.”
She laughed, a melodiously husky sound, and said, “My dear boy, I did the exact same thing to your father as I did to your sister. And if you do not behave, I will do the same to you as well.”
His eyes bore into her emerald gaze. “I would like to see you try!”
Instantly, the door behind him flew shut with a bang. He turned to see if someone had come in, but they were alone. Anger coursed through him like fire. How dare the woman perform magic in front of him? “You are a witch!” he hissed.
She smirked. “And you will soon be a toad if you do not do what I say.” She pulled the vial from her pocket and held it out to him.
The enchantment! He snatched it from her grasp.
“Now, would you like to know what really happened to your sister?”
He flinched, hating being a pawn in her game. “I thought you told me she was lost in the forest.”
Cora laughed. “Yes, well, I had to make sure I could distract you long enough so I could shut the door. We certainly cannot have you running away.”
He stepped back with the vial in his hand to guarantee he had an advantage. “I do not know what sorcery you are about, but I will have you hanged and tried as a witch when this all over.”
“Do you know why your little Gretel was taken from the home?”
“If you have something you wish to say, then say it! I will not fulfill whatever pantomime script you have written in your head as the puppet or player you expect me to be. I care for one thing right now, and that is the safety of my sister.”
Flinging her skirts around in a large arch, she presented her back to him and walked to the window. “Your foolish temper will see you killed, boy. I suggest you play the puppet, or you will lose more than you could ever imagine.”
“Where is she?”
“When you in your idiocy decided to show her that vial of mine, you became a key player in this farce. For it is because of your inane ability to let things alone that I needed to remove her from this house.”
She whirled around, her green eyes flashing a bright yellow. The long locks of her raven hair lifted around her head like a dark halo. Her voice, though soft and barely above a whisper grated and grinded, sending the deepest, vilest chills throughout his heart. Clearly she was livid.
“I will not have my plans upset by a boy in love with my Gretel!”
Cora stepped forward, her hands reaching out and curling around the air in front of her.
His throat instantly tightened and he gasped for air.
“Drink it. Drink it all, now, or you will die.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
LIGHTNING LIT UP THE rain-filled sky above them as Gretel leaned over and pushed the streaming water out of her eyes. She quickly tied a scrap of fabric to a long branch as the cart lurched forward through the pouring rain. They moved slowly up the overgrown road. Every so often she would attach another ripped piece of her apron to the branches reaching out into their path. She prayed Hansel would find the fabric later. Thank goodness the rain had slowed them down as much as it had or she did not think she would have been able to leave a trail of markers of any kind.
Father had not spoken one word to her from the moment Cora had him pick her up and place her in the cart until now. He simply stared directly ahead and continued to drive leisurely through the storm as if he were in a trance.
“Pa?” she hesitantly asked after a few more minutes. When he did not reply, she tried again. “Pa? Can you hear me?”
Leaning forward, she clutched another long branch and rushed to loop a scrap of fabric around it.
“What are you doing there?”
The shout came as such a surprise, Gretel nearly toppled over the edge. “You startled me.” She gasped as she righted herself, pushing off the wooden sides.
Adale pulled on the reins and stopped the horse. “Aye, girl! Get yourself sitting fully in that cart now! No more leaning forward! You are not jumping out that easy! And do not go about tying things to the branches either, you hear me? ” He climbed down and walked the few steps over to the branch, yanking off her soggy fabric as he did so. Bringing it to her, he continued to shout through the rain, “If this is how you think to repay me and my wife, then I am done with you! I will make sure you do not tie another piece to any of these branches again.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
He reached down under the cart and removed a large wooden plank from the underside of the seat. “This.” His eyes raged a dark, awful color as he approached her, the wind and sleet making him very frightening.
“Pa, wait!” she called out as he raised the plank above him.
“No! No one will find the likes of you ever again! This stops now.”
He swung the wooden beam wide and she ducked, but not quickly enough. She felt the sting of the plank as it cracked against her head. Dazed, Gretel slumped to the cart floor, her cheek sloshing in a puddle of rainwater before her eyes drifted shut and she forgot all else.
***
GRETEL AWOKE WITH A throbbing headache, her back upon something cold and hard. She was not sure where she was, but the smell of candy was strong. It was everywhere, permeating the air. Slowly, she opened one eye to face near blackness before risking a peek with the other. Blinking, she attempted to ease the ache within her head as she cautiously sat up.
It was too dark and too cold to make out much of anything.
She brought her knees to her chest and dropped her head upon them, closing her eyes again. The pain was unbearable. What had happened? Where was she? And more importantly, how did she get here? She could not remember anything. Her last memory was of being at home and preparing for tea.
Groaning, she sat there for some time before she opened one eye again. She blinked until she could focus on the ground below her. It looked to be hard dirt. Perhaps it was stone; it was all a sort of muddled gray. Following the floor with her eyes into the darkened shadows around her, she peered, trying desperately to see what she could not see.
As she lifted her head from her knees, the room began to tilt and spin. It was too much. It was all too much. She lay back upon the ground and curled her knees into her. This pain must stop.
The wretched smell of sweetness was so overbearing, she was afraid she would be ill soon. And the thought of casting up her accounts upon the ground did not bode well with the megrim she was facing now.
Please do not be sick. Please do not be sick.
She slowly breathed and breathed and breathed until she fell back asleep again.
The next morning was much better for her. At least the pounding in her head seemed to be gone. The smell was not quite as strong, or perhaps she was more used to it. Whatever the reason, she was grateful not to have the overwhelming scent distracting her. She was also very happy to feel the warmth of sunshine upon her skin. She opened her eyes a crack and saw the beams streaming into the place. Waiting for the headache to reappear, she paused a bit before braving the glare and opening her eyes fully.
There was a window right above her, and from the angle of the warm light it would appear to be much closer to seven than her usual waking time of five in the morning.
My goodness. Where was she?
She sat up and
looked all around the little cottage she found herself in. It was indeed tiny, a fraction of the size of Adale’s home. It was an odd little house, brightly painted and quite lavishly decorated. Vibrant blues, reds, yellows, greens—so many colors pinged and danced their way through her vision. Never before had she seen a place so childlike in its brightness and décor. Was this reality? Was she perhaps dreaming?
She blinked several times before deciding it was indeed real. The layered colors had a distinct sheen to them, glossy and pretty. Slowly she stood and approached one of the multicolored walls. Instead of the gray stones and wood a typical cottage would have, each individual rock seemed to be painted a separate color from its neighbor. Walking closer to inspect the shiny stones, she reached one hand out and was surprised to find a hardened shell-like rock instead of the dense mineral she expected. It was the tiniest bit sticky, not quite fully dry and smooth. This was definitely not paint, but the actual stones themselves were this color.
Looking at her fingers, there were no signs any substance had come off onto them, but it would seem definitely that material would dissolve if completely wet, almost as if it were a food of some sort. Something she would have in the kitchen.
She furrowed her brow. How odd. Why would anyone go through the trouble of building a home if it would not last? It was almost clear as well, as if she could partially see into the colorful stone. Were these an odd type of gemstone, perhaps?
Leaning closer to a bright red one, she was surprised to smell the distinct aroma of cherry. She pulled back. Cherry? That could not be right. She approached the stone once more and sniffed. It was indeed cherry, and it smelled delicious. Almost like—candy. Blinking, she stared at the rock for a very long time.
Who would build a house of candy? Could it be? She stepped forward and this time licked a small part of the stone. It was indeed!
And it was so good. She took another taste and then another. Glancing at the blue stone next to her, she quickly abandoned the red and smelled it. Blueberry!
It was only a moment before she tasted that. Then lemon, raspberry, grape… every different-colored stone did she try. It was truly a magical house.
Glancing around the small, one-roomed cottage, she looked at all the furniture, the slightly tinted windowpanes, the floral centerpieces, the curtains—all of it! It was all candy.
My good, great heavens. How was anyone to resist so much temptation as this? Gretel had never seen the likes of such glorious confections before. And oh, how she truly loved sweets. She had missed them dearly when she first came to Adale and Hansel. They constantly chided her about that sweet tooth of hers. But now, now it was like she was at the castle all over again. Memories of bowls of candy and goodies flooded forth. How wonderful it was then to reach in and take a few of them here or there. The castle had never run out of such treats, and all the children loved dipping their greedy fingers within the bowls.
She giggled a very childlike giggle and walked toward the small table in the center of the room. Picking up a licorice whip folded and twisted into a beautiful flower, she began to nibble on it. She groaned—this was heaven. This was perfection. She sat down upon the only proper place in the room, the actual stone floor, and began to eat. Fast.
Until that moment, she was not fully aware of how hungry she had become, or how much she had missed such wonders. It was simply bliss.
She chewed and gnawed and devoured the little flower quite quickly. Not once did she wonder again how she had gotten to such a place. Not once did she remember her dear Hansel and Pa. Not once did she even think to be homesick. No, this was too much, too wonderful, too perfect, for Gretel to think of anything else.
The more she ate, the more immune to her reality she became.
And the more the enchantment took hold of her heart and mind and wove its way through her to capture the great Gretel Elsie Margaret, Her Royal Highness, the Larkein princess, would-be queen.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE WITCH SMILED AS Hansel let out a yelp when her hands curled around his neck. This time she loomed above him. This time she would force the potion down his throat whether he wished to be drugged or not. The day before, in Gretel’s room, he had thrown the small bottle against the wall while she used her witchery to cut off his air supply. Never again would she be so foolish. Hansel would pay for that bit of nonsense.
How upset she had become! How livid once she saw the contents of her precious vial scattered in droplets and oozing down the yellow wall of Gretel’s room. She screeched out a curse and instantly, Hansel had frozen. His arms, legs, neck—all stiff and permanently held in place.
“You will suffer for what you have just done!”she had hissed as she walked toward him. His gaze widened as her snarling face neared. “Yes. You can only move your eyes now, and they are all you will be able to move for some time.” She ran her long fingers over his face as she tried to regain some composure. It was not like her to become so very upset. Then again, there were few people actually foolish enough to disobey her. “I suggest you use this time wisely to think over all your actions today, boy, for you are not allowed to treat me and my things with such disrespect. If you do, you shall be destroyed.”
She smirked. “I see by your eyes that you wish to do so much more than just stand there and look at me. You wish our roles were reversed, do you not?” She grinned. “Oh, you foolish, foolish boy. If you know me to be a witch, then why tempt your life in toying with me? For do you not know that witches always win in the end? Though you may attempt to thwart our plans, there is greatness in our design that allows for a completion of all our hearts’ desires.”
Patting his cheek, she continued, one brow rising in disdain. “And do you know what I desire most? Do you? In all your inner thoughts and ponderings over what I could possibly be doing to your family now, have you figured it out?” She stepped back. “Oh, ho! I see by that flash in your eyes that you have. Yes, boy. It is Gretel. Do you know why I want her? Why I would need such a filthy, monstrous, dimwitted thing? No? Should I enlighten you?”
She chuckled and walked slowly around his frozen form. “My, my, my, you do make an awfully interesting statue. Perhaps I will not bother with the potion. Perhaps I shall just place you in my rose garden at the new Larkein castle. Mayhap that would be best. I believe you would set off the tulips to perfection with such an angry stance as that.”
Stepping forward and to the side of him, she whispered, “Of course, if I allow you to become a permanent garden ornament, you might be able to see your precious Gretel from time to time.”
He looked away from her.
“Hansel, have you sorted out why I would need her? Why I would need the princess back upon her throne, to become the queen she was destined to become? Have you?”
When he glanced back, she said simply, “Freedom.”
He blinked.
“Freedom. I want release from this perpetual role of cottage maiden, always living on my own or attempting to blend in with the other villagers. I was made for grander and greater things and I will not be forced into this life any longer. There was a reason I left that girl in your father’s care, a reason I chose you two specifically—I knew your soft hearts would keep her safe until the time was right. She is of age now. Sixteen allows her the rights and privileges to the Larkein kingdom and I will not sit back and allow all this time of waiting to go for naught. I need my kingdom rebuilt. I want to live in splendor and beauty again.
“What is that you are attempting to say to me?” she mocked. “Oh, little Hansel, shall I release your mouth for a moment to hear the words that will no doubt ensure my immediate wrath? Or shall I protect you from your own folly and allow you to stay silent?” She put her hands on her hips, the skirts of the green dress fanning out beneath them. “What shall it be? Two blinks and I will release that confounded mouth of yours. One, I will allow you to stay as happy as you are right now.”
He blinked twice.
“Are you certain?”
Two more blinks.
She sighed. “Very well. I shall do as you wish until I am bored of such nonsense.” Snapping her fingers, she said, “Release.”
Hansel worked his stiff jaw a bit. “Thank you,” he muttered.
“You are welcome. Now.” She curtsied before his frozen form. “What would you like to say to me?”
“Come here.”
“I beg your pardon.” She smirked. “Did you honestly command me to come to you?”
“Yes.”
Grinning, she took a step forward, shaking her head slightly. “What are you going to do? Shout in my ears?”
“Come here, please,” he said again. “You are a strikingly beautiful woman, and I wish to see you closer.”
Throwing her head back, Cora laughed to the ceiling, but decided to humor the poor sap. “Do you not see very many women who look like me, then? You mean to say no one in your village holds a candle to me?”
“Not one. Come closer.”
She stepped all the way up to him, their noses nearly touching.
“Release my neck,” he whispered.
Cora gasped. Her curiosity about his forward behavior caused her heart to beat quite erratically. There was too much happening. It was too daring—she had to continue. She whispered back, “Release.”
His neck inched forward, and Hansel captured the witch’s full mouth with his own.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CORA MOANED AND KISSED Hansel back.
“Release me,” he murmured against her lips. “Allow me to move about freely.”
She did not answer as her mouth explored his.
Truly, the woman must enjoy kissing. “Cora, let me put my arms around you and hold you as we connect this way.”
“Release,” she muttered into his mouth.
Instantly his arms were free and he wrapped her up against his chest, his hands winding around her back, and she melted. This was too easy. Way too easy. He deepened the kiss before pausing for breath and stating, “I would love to hold you as I wish. Help me by releasing my legs as well so I may balance better.”
