Little by little, Hayden added to the cache of food he’d hidden. When he judged it was enough to sustain him and Gracie for several days’ journey, he smuggled the sack of food, plus their winter cloaks, to a hiding place out beyond the stream. He’d risen at dawn, and had been able to avoid the magpie’s notice both coming and going.
“Tomorrow,” he said softly as he and his sister made their way up the twisting staircase to their respective bedrooms that evening. “Slip away from your chores in the midmorning. I'll meet you by the alder tree at the edge of the clearing.”
Gracie glanced at him, but despite the doubt in her expression, she made no argument.
The wind blew restlessly that night, making his aerie sway back and forth, sneaking through the chinks in the walls and tugging his hair across his face.
After tossing and turning for far too long, he rose and went to sit in the small window seat carved into the opposite wall. He settled cross-legged and listened to the sound of the breeze creaking in the branches, the leaves whipping back and forth. It was almost as if the tree sensed that he and Gracie were planning to go.
Now that they were on the verge of leaving, he could admit he’d miss the enchanted clearing and magically bounteous tree. He might even miss the witch, and the glimpse of something unattainable he’d seen in her eyes.
But he wouldn’t miss the Stone and its frightening, mysterious power.
With a deep breath, he made himself go back to bed, though sleep was long in finding him.
The bright calling of birds broke his hard-won slumber, and he opened his eyes to see dappled sunlight warming the floor. He lay quietly for a moment, going through plans in his head, then rose and dressed himself in the clothing Nissa had provided. Fine linen shirt, leather trousers and tunic, and woolen cloak. For the first time, he wondered if they had been crafted with magic, and if they would fall to tattered leaves and cobwebs the moment he stepped beyond her realm.
He picked up the hunk of amber, considering, then set it back down on the windowsill. Though it was worth gold, it was entirely possible the witch could track his presence using it. He and Gracie couldn’t take any chances.
As usual, breakfast was laid upon the table. His sister was already there, eating a piece of bread slathered with raspberry jam. She gave him a guarded look, her gaze sliding to where Nissa stood, arms crossed, looking out one of the high windows.
“Good morning,” Hayden said, reaching for a wedge of creamy cheese and a handful of nuts.
The hazelnuts went in his pocket, but he polished off the cheese and a crisp green apple. Gracie cleared their dishes, and then the witch turned, pale braids swinging across her back as she pivoted. Her piercing blue eyes made Hayden feel as though she could sense every thought in his head. It took all his discipline to meet her gaze and hold it. A shadow moved over her expression, and she was the first to look away.
“I’ll draw water today, then gather more firewood,” he said steadily. “Unless you have different work in mind?”
“No.” Nissa's voice was low. She looked at Gracie. “Your task this day is to sweep the stairs from top to bottom, then gather the fallen nuts and fruits dislodged by the wind.”
Gracie nodded, and the witch drew her cloak more tightly about her shoulders and strode out the door without a word of farewell. Though that wasn't unusual a strange heaviness lingered in the air, as if something important had been left unsaid.
“I suppose we'd best get to work,” he said to his sister, with a good humor he didn't quite feel.
“I'll see you later, then,” she said somberly.
He fixed her with a significant look, and she dipped her head in acknowledgement before they each went their separate ways.
The air was warm as Hayden descended the twisting staircase, carrying the stout water bucket. There was a stoneware cistern in the kitchen that held about four bucket’s worth of water, and he’d noticed it was running low.
Black and white, the magpie came to settle on a low branch of a nearby evergreen. It cocked its head, regarding him with one bright eye.
“Getting some water,” he told it as headed toward the stream.
Usually, when he stayed close to the clearing, the magpie went off on its own business. He hoped it would do so that day, especially if it looked like he wasn’t going to set off into the woods.
As he fetched water, he saw Gracie sweeping the upper stairs, her dark hair tucked beneath a blue kerchief. Their paths didn’t cross, and after he was done filling the cistern, he went to gather kindling. It was easy to stay close to the clearing, as the wind had brought down a number of sticks and branches.
To his relief, after watching him collect and stack firewood for a time, the magpie gave a chirp and flew away.
Gracie’s sweeping finally took her to the bottom of the stairs. She propped her broom on the railing and began to gather the fruit and acorns scattered beneath the tree, tucking them in the sturdy sack the witch had given her. The extra food would be useful, and Hayden was glad to see that she’d mostly filled her sack by the time she approached him.
“Water?” he asked, offering her his water skin.
She took it, then whispered, “Is it time?”
He made a show of checking the woodpile, then stretched his back, turning this way and that. There was no sign of the witch. Or the magpie.
“Yes.” He took the sack from Gracie and nodded toward the forest. “Follow me.”
Quickly, they strode into the shadows beneath the trees. Hayden led them to the cache, where he added the apples and acorns to their other food, making sure to keep the heaviest load for himself. He handed Gracie her cloak, slung his own across one shoulder, and then they struck out into the woods.
Once or twice, he thought he heard the sound of feathered wings overhead, but every time he whirled and peered up into the branches, he saw nothing. With every step they took away from the witch's dwelling, he felt his spirits lighten and hope burn in his chest.
He glanced at Gracie, surprised to see a hint of sorrow in her expression.
“What's wrong?” he asked.
“I just…” she frowned. “We didn't say goodbye.”
Exasperated, he shook his head. “You don't say goodbye when you're trying to escape, Gracie.”
“I know, but I'm going to miss her.”
For a moment, Hayden could see Nissa clearly in his mind. Her sharp features and pale hair, the intensity of her gaze, yet the way her mouth had softened into infrequent smiles during their evenings spent telling tales and playing games.
Most of the time she was cold and self-possessed, wrapped in the armor of her magic and solitude. But sometimes that façade would melt and he’d catch a glimpse of the woman beneath, filled with a desperate sorrow and loneliness.
Unlike Gracie, he wouldn't miss her—at least not much. But he would never forget her, either.
Morning pivoted to noon, and the air grew colder. Around them, the leaves on the alder branches retreated back into the tight buds of springtime, and the path beneath their feet turned from green grasses to mud. Ahead, he glimpsed the green shine of the barrier they’d crossed to enter the witch’s domain.
Smiling, Hayden turned to tell his sister they were almost out.
Then, between one step and the next, a great whirling wind set the trees around them to swaying. The air grew dark as a black cloud covered the sun. Overhead came a cacophony of screeching and cawing, as if a thousand ravens were descending.
Between one heartbeat and the next, Nissa stood before them. Gracie let out a gasp, and Hayden fell back a step, one hand on his dagger.
“Did you think to leave me so soon?” The witch’s looked from him to his sister, something dark and sorrowful in her eyes.
“Yes,” Hayden said. There was no use denying it.
Her expression hardened. “A year and a day has not yet passed. You cannot go.”