“Your brother is going to get a job in town.”
“What? Really?”
“I don’t know. I’m just going to ask about a position I saw advertised there.”
“I always thought you would come to work with me at the orchard. I would have talked to Mrs. Klahr about it if I had known you were ready to start working.” Gretel looked up at Anika. “And mother, you’re allowing this?”
“I guess I am, though I was never asked,” mother replied, her tone more tsk-tsk than scolding or threatening.
“If you don’t want me to I won’t. Like I said, I was just going to ask about it.” The annoyance in my voice was certainly detectable, though it wasn’t directed at either my mother or sister. It was at myself, once again, for not obeying my schedule and leaving the house promptly when the opportunity presented itself. “Besides, Mrs. Klahr doesn’t need a third person all year round. Once the harvest is over and the workers leave, she won’t have enough work for me, you and Petr.”
Gretel dropped her eyes and lowered her neck slightly, frowning. “Petr leaves next month. For the university in the Urbanlands. I’m sure I’ve mentioned this to you.”
I didn’t remember hearing about this. “How can he leave? What is Mrs. Klahr going to do without him?”
Mr. and Mrs. Klahr had been a hearty couple, for their ages or any other age quite frankly. But Mr. Klahr was gone now, brutally killed by Marlene, and Mrs. Klahr, who had also undergone her own trauma in the name of the witch, never quite regained the same energy she possessed previously. The truth was, Gretel’s almost constant presence at the orchard had been an easy getaway for her, an escape from home and mother, but it was also an absolute necessity. Gretel was Mrs. Klahr’s caretaker, and it was a job that she took very seriously, having committed herself to it years ago when Mrs. Klahr had given Gretel her new life.
But the orchard was something else. Petr was the caretaker of the property and overseer of the business.
The boy had lived with the Klahrs since his father had died—another victim of Marlene—and with Georg Klahr now gone, Mrs. Klahr had given Petr full control of the orchard operation. He was in charge of all the hiring and schedules of the workers, as well as the pricing and distribution of the fruits to the various stores throughout the Back Country and beyond. And it turned out Petr was quite the businessman, not only maintaining the survival of the orchard, but turning an already prosperous enterprise into a force of commerce. And it was due almost entirely to him and his tireless efforts.
“He’ll be back in the summer. But he’s always planned to go to school. Mrs. Klahr has known this was coming.”
“Who will run the orchard then?”
“I don’t know.” A look of concern crept to Gretel’s face. “After the harvest, I suppose we’ll have some time to figure it out. But when the season hits again, I’m not exactly sure. I’ll help with the hiring and supervision, I suppose, but I don’ know anything about the business part of it.”
“She’ll sell it,” mother said, the words containing traces of the Anika Morgan from a year ago.
Gretel swallowed and I could see the fight in her to keep her eyes dry. “Why do you say that?”
“It’s what people do when they can’t work a farm anymore. It’s what we should have done the day I came back from that cabin. When your father was as dead as the crops. And we were all ruined.”
Gretel and I stood in shock, neither of us wanting to move. We stared at my mother, who herself was staring distantly in the direction of the lake.
“And you’ll be leaving soon too, won’t you be Gretel?”
“I...I don’t know. To college? Next year? If there is money...” Gretel was rambling, caught off guard by the question and the aggressiveness of mother.
“She’ll give the money to you. To you and to your boyfriend. You’re all she has. Of course it will go to you. But it will only come after she dies.”
Gretel begin to cry now, though no sounds accompanied her tears. “I hate you,” she said, in what could only be described as a violent whisper. “And I wish you were dead.”
Gretel took three or four slow steps backward, her hateful glare lingering on mother until the very last moment before she turned at the first railroad tie and began her descent down to the lake. She ran quickly, taking each step like a deer, two at a time, until she reached the bank. Mother and I watched as she pulled the boat from the small cluster of trees and launched it onto the lake, deftly hopping in as it drifted forward, displaying a skill that can only be acquired from doing a thing a thousand times.
Mother’s gaze followed the canoe as it aimed for the Klahr orchard, and then turned toward the cabin. As she walked up the steps to the porch, without stopping she said, “I wish I was too, Gretel. I wish I was too.”
Chapter 19
“Is she dead?”
Noah and I walk side-by-side behind Maja and Emre. According to Noah, we’re on what should be our second—possibly third—to last day of the journey. His plan is to make one side stop along the way at a town that is six or seven miles off the path leading to the Village of the Elders where Gromus is expected to be.
And Gretel.
Noah has prepared us well for the journey. Along with various tools and a few first aid items he collected from the home where he was boarding, when he stayed behind to check on Emre’s parents, he had collected more provisions. He took the additional step of loading his rucksack with food from Emre’s pantry and icebox, bringing as much as he could fit into the tote. It has proven to be plenty so far, and by the looks of the load, it can last us for several more days. We’ve eaten all of the perishables, using those first of course, and we are now into the smoked meats and breads. At our layover town, however, Noah has promised there will be an opportunity to restock.
“She is,” I reply, feeling little emotion about it at this particular moment. Now, with my focus on Gretel, it’s as if my experiences with Anika Morgan happened during a different lifetime. “She’s been dead for a few years now.”
Noah nods his head and breathes deeply. The move tells me he had anticipated the answer, but the blow is still a heavy one for him to absorb.
“She trusted you very much, Noah.” I keep my eyes forward, focused on the road ahead. “She didn’t speak of the events of her journey often—truth told, after a short time, we didn’t speak of them at all—but she wrote a letter, telling me and Gretel to find you if we ever needed help in the Old World. It was the letter, that’s how I knew to look for you.” I snicker. “Funny though, it was Maja who already had you in mind. You’re a bit of a giant in these parts. But you already know that, I suppose.”
“I’m no giant. I take rich old men to an invented town and let them think they’re in some magical village where your mother was healed by ancient medicine men.”
“Why didn’t you just take them all the way? Why not just follow through on your promise and take them to the village?”
Noah nodded. “It was my plan at first. I needed work and people were willing to pay. But as I re-traced our path, in preparation for taking my first group, I found Lyria. The plan struck me like a lightening flash, and after I spoke with the town elders, explaining the money it would bring to them, they were more than willing.”
I say nothing, not sure if he’s ever told this tale aloud, and wanting to give him the opportunity to finish.
“Your mother’s story became a well-known tale, Hansel, and I one of the few connections to it that remained in the Old World. It plagued me at first, the notoriety, but I learned to parlay it. I’m sorry for that. Sorry to you and your family for exploiting Anika’s quest.”
“Don’t apologize to me, Noah. You were a part of that quest—an integral part from what I know—and you have a right to make a living.”
Noah frowns and clicks his eyebrows up, acknowledging that I may have a point.
“But how did everyone hear of it? If it was a curse to you, and you consider the experience with Ani
ka and the lost village unique and intimate, sacred even, why did you spread the story so widely?”
Noah flashes a feeble smile and looks at me. “The story was spread, but it was not by me.”
“Who then?”
“That is who we are on the way to see now. His name is Oskar. He was the third in our party.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think my mother mentioned him; for sure she didn’t in the letter.”
“That’s not surprising. Your mother and Oskar got off to a bit of a problematic beginning in their relationship. But he is not a bad man, and he was instrumental in communicating with the villagers.”
“But he’s not expecting us, right? He can’t be. We left Zanpie impulsively.”
“He’ll do as he’s told. Whether he’s expecting us or not is of no concern. It is an agreement we made long ago. And despite the difficult genesis of his relationship with your mother, he became very fond of her by the time she left. He’ll want to help find your sister.” Noah looks straight ahead now, into the distance of the Western Koudeheuvals. “He’ll be very sorry to hear of Anika’s passing.”
We continue walking for several more hours when suddenly the long barren road that was the way of our journey for three days becomes lined with a bouquet of giant firs. Below us I can hear the rush of a river and the crunch of leaves as animals make their way through a lush forest. The air smells instantly cleaner, and the inhalations feel almost medicinal in my lungs.
“What is this place?” Maja asks. “It’s beautiful.”
“We’ve reached the region of Jena. It is an ancient region, known for centuries throughout the Old World for its beauty.”
“It sounds familiar,” I say. “Jena. Why do I know that name?”
Noah laughs heartily. “Yes! Of course, Hansel. This is the region containing Hecklin. That is where you and your family lived during your stay here.”
Maja looks at me. “You lived here?
I nod sheepishly. “Did I not mention that?”
Maja frowns and shakes her head.
“Why are we here?” I ask, “Is this where your friend lives?”
“Not in Hecklin, but yes, in Jena, in a town not far from where we are now. We’ll camp here tonight and then find Oskar first thing tomorrow. And then two days up the mountain to the lost village.”
“This village. The Village of the Elders. Is it close to Hecklin?
“It’s an interesting question. On a map, the line from the elder’s village to Hecklin is barely a dash. But the mountains, Hansel, they are forgiving, easily scalable, but high. And it is easy to get off track in them. It’s why the village hasn’t been found by many. Even if you find the town that fronts the village, few are ever taken back to see the elders. It’s a very difficult place to find. We would never have been shown it had your mother not been kin to them.”
“It is strange, isn’t it?”
“What’s strange, Hansel?”
“That Gromus has found Gretel and is taking her back to the land of her ancestors? And that this village is so close to the place where we lived only a few years ago.”
Noah shakes his head and assumes a serious expression. “It is no coincidence, Hansel.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Gromus knows of your family. He knows of it very well.”
“Why? How could he know of our family? Is it to do with what Emre said? About knowing when an Orphist is killed.”
Noah stops walking and the rest of the group follows suit. He blinks at me several times and cocks his head to the side, as if giving me the opportunity to figure out the obvious on my own. “I thought you understood. It’s not just Emre’s story—I have my doubts that any of that story is even true.”
I had the same doubts.
“Gromus is the son of Tanja.”
“The son of Tanja. Yes, I’ve heard that several times now. I don’t know what that means.”
“Marlene was the daughter of Tanja. She was Gromus’ sister.”
I’m almost too stunned to speak at this revelation. “And that means...”
“He’s going to try to find the village because they are his ancestors, just as they are yours. You’re of the same family, Hansel. He’s an Aulwurm.”
Chapter 20
Gretel came home late on the night she said she hated my mother and wished her dead. I held no bitterness toward her for the outburst; my sister loved Mrs. Klahr—and Mr. Klahr, for that matter—as much as she loved mother and me, and any speak of Mrs. Klahr’s death, even hypothetically, was sure to push her toward the rage she showed.
I was awake in the living room reading when she opened the front door and entered the cabin. I expected her to keep her head tilted down as she walked through, her eyes forward as she made a beeline toward her room. But instead she stopped and gently put her bag down on the kitchen table.
“I’m glad you’re awake, Hansel,” she said. “I was hoping to talk to you tonight.”
My heart dropped like a hammer at the last sentence, as I could sense the trepidation in Gretel’s words. She had something serious she wanted to talk about. I put the book on the side table and sat straight. “What is it?”
“It’s about a couple of things really. Good news I guess you could say, depending on how you interpret them.”
“Just get to it Gretel. You know I don’t like things like this to be drawn out.”
“Okay, here it is. I told you how Petr was leaving for school in a few weeks, right?”
I nodded.
“And mom caught me off guard this morning about my own plans regarding school. But the truth is I do have plans.”
I frowned, not surprised by the news, but my stomach ached at the thought of Gretel leaving. I couldn’t imagine not seeing my sister every day, even if it was for just a moment or two in the mornings and evenings. “I figured, Gretel, of course. You are smarter than everyone I know. Of course you need to go to college. But how will you pay for it?”
Gretel looked away, embarrassed.
“What is it?”
“Well that was always the question, right? Money.” Gretel frowned. “As much as I hate to say it, mother was right today. At least the part about Mrs. Klahr.”
“She’s selling the farm?” The alarm in my voice was obvious. My heart wouldn’t be able to take this much change all at once. Petr, Gretel, and Mrs. Klahr all leaving at once!
“No! No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean about that. Mom was right about the money. About Mrs. Klahr giving some to me. When I got there this morning, to the orchard, I was still upset about the...conversation...and Mrs. Klahr noticed my mood immediately. So we discussed what happened, and the fight with mother, and that’s when she told me. Told me that she had set up a savings fund for me and Petr. And some for you too, by the way.” Gretel raised her eyebrows and gave a pirate’s smile.
“For me? Why me? I’ve never worked for them.”
“That doesn’t matter, Hansel. I get paid separately for working. This is something else. This is for our well-being when we get older. To give us a start in life as adults. And she loves you, you know that. You became very special to her after what happened with Marlene.”
“I guess so. I should... thank her, right? Or something. Or am I not supposed to know?”
“I don’t know, but for now, just let it be. You still have plenty of time to have that conversation with Mrs. Klahr.” Gretel paused a moment, and I could see she had something else to get out. “But I don’t have that much time.”
I cocked my head, genuinely confused. “You have another year of school. That’s not a lot of time, but it’s a year.”
Gretel shook her head slowly and locked my eyes. “I knew after last semester that I only needed three more classes to graduate. I checked again with the school, just to be sure, and they confirmed it. My plan was to spread the classes out over my final year, take it easy, you know, and just enjoy my final season. But that’s changed now, Hansel. With what Mrs. Klahr t
old me, and after the things mother and I said to each other this morning, I’m going to leave in the winter. After the holiday. Petr has no doubt that I’ll be accepted to the university. After all, if he got in...”
Gretel was smiling but my head was spinning, and I could feel her looking at me, measuring my response, allowing me the space to absorb all of the information she was piling on top of me. I’m sure she was expecting me to be angry, to lash out even, or at least break down into a crying episode. And all of these possibilities would have been my guess too had someone asked me a year ago how I thought I would react to Gretel’s intentions. But I was strangely at peace with the news, as if some instinct inside me knew that my sister’s plan for her life was a sign that she was healthy again, a normal, ambitious girl who was ready to become the woman she was always meant to be. She was going to grow up whether I wanted her to or not, and she was too special to live out her life as some spinster in the Back Country.
But something inside me, something deeper and more cynical than pride, knew there was more to Gretel’s ambitions of independence. This morning’s encounter with mother had done more than anger her into leaving home; it triggered a fear in her that everything wasn’t right with mother. That the effects of the poison concoction were seeping back into her cells and mind.
“I’m happy for you Gretel,” I said, flashing a melancholic smile. “I really am.”
“Good Hansel. Thank you. That means so much to me.” It was Gretel’s turn to smile now, but it lasted only a few seconds before the tears began. She pulled me toward her and hugged me, now sobbing.
“I’m going to miss you too, Gret.”
Gretel pulled back and looked at me. “Listen. There’s something else I need to talk to you about.”
“You haven’t dropped enough weight on my head tonight?”
Gretel forced a quick smile and then said, “You have to get out of here too.”
My breath caught in my throat and I coughed. “What?”
“That’s the other thing I needed to talk to you about.”
The Gretel Series: Books 1-3 (Gretel #1-3) Page 72
