Three months passed, by Hayden's reckoning. By now, spring would be returning to the outside world—though it was hard to believe that the seasons even existed, caught as they were in the eternal summer of the witch's domain.
It was not a terrible life. Indeed, though he didn’t like to admit it, they were both thriving. No longer a half-starved waif, Gracie’s hollow cheeks and bony wrists had filled out, and he was finally getting enough to eat, his muscles strong and well-defined after weeks spent chopping wood, hauling water, and making various repairs to the tree-cradled rooms.
Still, he could never quite banish the thought of Tom Turkey being fattened for the pot.
Nissa was teaching Gracie herbcraft, which she took to instantly, and how to tend the garden. And, to Hayden’s dismay, the witch was also giving her increasingly larger parts to play in the weekly ritual of the Stone. It had started with Nissa showing his sister how to mark the loaves, and then how to wrap them precisely in the cloth.
The next time they performed the ceremony, he was appalled to hear Gracie lifting her voice and joining Nissa in her chanting.
Pulse pounding, he rounded on the witch. “What are you doing? My sister isn’t part of your magic.”
Nissa’s eyes darkened. “Since she is here, she is part of it. You both are.”
“That doesn’t mean you should teach her the words and gestures!”
She let out a low breath, nostrils flaring. “It does.”
He reached to take her by the shoulders, to demand she stop teaching Gracie immediately, but she ducked out from under his grasp.
“Do not interrupt the ceremony,” she said, an undercurrent of power in her voice.
“Hayden, stop it,” Gracie added. “I like learning about the Stone.”
“Without it, we would not have this.” Nissa waved her arm, encompassing the clearing and the majestic oak tree. “It brings us the bounty of summer. And it must be fed accordingly. We all benefit from the magic here.”
The two of them turned back to the ritual, leaving him staring darkly at the Stone. It seemed to him that the green fire held a flickering menace, a buried malice that threatened them all.
That evening, he had little appetite. The single piece of bread he ate lay like a rock in his belly, and he excused himself early to go up to his aerie.
Not long after, Gracie followed him. She sat in the open doorway, dangling one leg into the air without fear of the high drop beneath. Evening light touched the green leaves and gilded a lock of her dark hair as she glanced over at him.
“It’s nothing to worry about,” she said reassuringly. “Nissa just wants us to feel included.”
“It’s everything to worry about,” he replied, leaning against the wall with his arms folded. “We don’t belong here. In fact, it’s high time we thought of leaving.”
“Stop towering over me, and sit down,” she said.
Reluctantly, he uncrossed his arms. “She’s not our friend,” he said sternly.
“I know.” She swung her leg back and forth. “But she's our enemy either. She’s never led us into the forest and left us, or sold our mother’s things.” Her voice dipped at the end, and he dropped down to settle beside her, their shoulders touching.
“I suppose she’s been kind enough, in her own way,” he said softly. “But we can’t stay. There’s a city out there waiting for us.”
She shot him a look. “What if I don’t want to go to the city?”
“Gracie.” He couldn’t help his exasperation. “At the end of the year and a day, something bad’s going to happen. We need to be gone before then. Summer’s coming, and that’s the best time for us to leave.”
She pressed her lips together in a little scowl, then abruptly changed the subject.
“Your birthday is in three days.”
“It is?” Now it was his turn to frown. “How do you know?”
“I’m not the only one keeping track of time, silly. I’ll ask Nissa if I can make a honeycake to celebrate.” She let out a sigh. “You’ll be a man.”
“I’m already a man,” he pointed out.
She pulled up her legs and wrapped her arms around her knees. Outside, the sun was setting, the robins making sleepy chirps as they settled for the night.
“You’ll be official, though,” she said. “All grown up.”
“If we leave soon, we can celebrate your birthday in the city.” If they were lucky. “I’ll buy you a scarf with flowers embroidered on it.”
She gave him a smile, though there was something sad about the edges.
He got to his feet. “Off to bed with you, and don’t worry about me.”
“Goodnight.” She rose and kissed him on the cheek, then went down the curve of stairs to her room, leaving Hayden alone with his brooding thoughts.
His first task would be creating a stash of food. Dried fruit, hard biscuits, nuts—supplies they could travel with until they reached more inhabited lands. In a week or so, he figured he’d have enough stored up that they could leave.
They had to escape, before Gracie was pulled any further into the witch’s web.
* * *
The next morning he rose early, ate a hasty breakfast, and was stepping out of the common room as his sister arrived. There was no sign of Nissa, and he was glad not to see the pale-haired witch lurking about.
“I’m going out to forage,” he told Gracie. “I’ll see you at supper.”
“Don’t forget,” she called as he headed down the stairs, “I’m baking you a cake.”
He waved one hand over his head in acknowledgement, then paused to pluck a few ripe raspberries and fill his pockets with hazelnuts and a pear for lunch. His mind whirled with plans for their escape. Over the last few weeks, he’d been scouting around the forest, and today he’d explore even deeper.
The magpie accompanied him, and though the bird’s steady regard made him uncomfortable, he’d begun talking to it. Partially for the company, for he could admit he was lonely, and partially to keep it from becoming suspicious as he rambled further from the witch’s clearing. As he strode out, it flew over his head, black and white wings flashing, and landed on a nearby branch.
“Looking for mushrooms, today,” he told it, hoisting the carrying bag he’d brought.
He went to the stream, skirted the bathing pool, then headed down the game trail that, so far, had proved promising. It meandered around thickets and over fallen logs, away from the clearing. But would it take them far enough away?
Nissa would come after them—he’d no doubt of that. But he sensed she was tethered there, to her strange house built among the branches. As long as he and Gracie fled far and fast, he thought the witch wouldn’t be able to follow them beyond her enchanted domain.
She might send her magic after them, but other than the Stone rituals, he hadn’t seen much evidence of her powers.
At midday the path obliged him by passing through a small clearing where bolete mushrooms grew, yellow-pored beneath a cap of slippery brown. He filled his sack, then sent a glance under the spreading alder trees where the game trail continued.
The magpie let out a squawk, and he glanced up at it. No point in rousing its suspicions further.
“You’re right. The day’s getting on, and there’s a cake waiting for us.” With a silent sigh, he turned and headed back toward the witch’s house.
His mood had improved, now that he’d made up his mind it was time to leave. At dinner, he managed not to frown at Nissa, though he reserved most of his conversation for his sister The cake was delicious, and after supper Gracie presented him with a bracelet she’d made out of braided yarrow stalks.
“It’s nice,” he said, fastening it around his wrist, though the stems poked his skin.
“We match.” Gracie held up her arm, showing him the bracelet adorning her own plump forearm.
Hayden glanced at her round, rosy cheeks, recalling she’d taken two slices of the cake. Slowly, he pushed away his own second slice, half-eaten. They were both growing a bit too well-fed, and he recalled once again the fate of Tom the turkey.
“Don’t you like my cake?” Gracie asked, glancing at his plate.
“Very much. I’m saving the rest for breakfast.” He managed to smile at her. “Thank you.”
“Here.” Nissa reached into her pocket, then held out her hand, fingers closed. “I have a gift for you, as well.”
He stared at her a moment, wishing he could refuse. He wanted no part of the witch, or her so-called gifts. It was only Gracie’s beseeching expression that made him slowly reach out his hand.
Nissa held her hand over his palm, and for a moment their fingers brushed. The contact tingled through him, making his senses flare. Their gazes caught, held, and he glimpsed something yearning in her eyes. Then she abruptly looked down and set something in his hand.
He’d been bracing himself for something unpleasant; a venomous spider, perhaps, or a sharpened thorn. Instead, he blinked down at a rounded hunk of amber, rich and golden-red, still warm from her touch. He held it up, seeing dapples of brighter gold inside.
“It reminded me of your eyes,” she said, a flush coloring her cheeks.
“Thank you,” he said, sincerely.
It was a rich gift. But it still couldn’t make up for the fact they were trapped there, being fattened up for some unknown fate.