I bite my lip, but it doesn’t stop the edges of my mouth from lifting into a smile. “For me?”
“Yes.”
Brahm kisses my cheek, and I melt into him a little more. I close my eyes and nuzzle into his strong chest, breathing in his scent. I like being this close to him again.
Opening my eyes, I find myself back in the dead forest. I wince and grit my teeth in pain as the crown of bones roots into my skull. I pry and tug, unable to remove it this time. I wander through the silent fog, searching for Wil, Thora, or anybody. I happen upon a clearing, and in the center is a throne made entirely of bones. To match my crown.
“Sit, goddess,” Wil’s voice rings from the forest. “Your subjects await.”
I do as I’m told. Once my skin touches the bony armrests, a kneeling crowd appears before me. Are they people? Everything about them is gray and tattered except their eyes. Their eyes are entirely black.
A woman wears her long, braided hair tied into a noose around her neck. A man’s lips are sewn shut with black thread. A young girl cries and has no hands to wipe her tears. A woman violently pushes and kicks, trying to escape her glass coffin. Holding hands, a boy and girl are burnt to a crisp, with flaky flesh and exposed bones. Another woman has the heels of her golden slippers lodged into her bleeding eye sockets. What first looks like a little hooded girl turns her face up to reveal that of a salivating wolf.
These are not the fairy tale characters I remember. They’re all rotten and wrong.
The dead creatures hum an out-of-tune version of Valley Song and sway in unison. My heart races because I know I don’t want the song to end. But it does.
The subjects stand and shuffle forward. They reach with their moldy hands and attempt to rip me away, but my bones are fused to the throne. Every tug sends shocks of pain through my body. Working together, they deliver one major pull. The worst pain of my life spreads to every corner of my being.
I jerk my eyes open and catch my breath. I’m still safe in Brahm’s arms. The pain is gone. The crown and throne of bones are gone. The horrible creatures are gone. It’s just the crisp night, the bonfire, the other Offerings, and Brahm.
I have Brahm. I crane my neck to kiss his cheek and sink back into his chest.
The Gingerbread House
A SAVORY SCENT FILLS MY NOSE with every heavy, sleepy breath. Mmm, something meaty like rouladen, maybe? A fresh waft of sugary sweetness hits me. I can almost taste a strawberry tart with a perfect, flaky crust as my mouth waters. I blink open my eyes to find I’m curled on Brahm’s lap, with his arms still wrapped around me. I trace my name along his muscular, lute-player’s forearm.
Across the dying fire, Ferdinand and Gunther both sit up with puffy, red eyes. Gunther laughs and ruffles Ferdinand’s messy blond hair. They sniff the scented air and drink from their canteens. Mitzi sleeps soundly under the apple’s spell, from which we’ll have to wake her with water before we go.
Willa springs up. “Does anyone smell that?” she shouts. “Is that food?”
Brahm stirs behind me. I tilt my head to meet his eyes, and he gives me a bright smile. He squeezes his arms tight and sways me back and forth, nuzzling my neck a little. It tickles, forcing me to release a giggle.
“Ugh, you lied! You two are together?” Willa glares at us. “Was that just a practical joke to make me look like a fool last night?”
My eyes widen, and my cheeks flush with embarrassment. I have no idea what Brahm thinks about us. It’s all so confusing. So, I shake my head and move away from Brahm’s grasp. “Willa, I promise it was no practical joke. We were just keeping warm.”
I fold the flannel blanket and tuck it into my satchel, running my fingers along the floral crown. The blooms are just as lively and vivid with color as the moment Brahm gave it to me. A magically stain-resistant dress and undying flowers. This place certainly isn’t the valley.
Brahm steps close and snatches the floral crown, placing it on my head. “It’s a good look.”
Grinning, I give him a wink and kneel beside Mitzi. When I pour water on her delicate face, she sits up, coughing.
“Good morning. We should get a head start before the fog moves in. Also, we think we smell food. How’s your leg, sweetie?” I ask.
“It’s sore.” Mitzi rubs her eyes and lifts her skirt to check the bandages. “But it doesn’t seem to be bleeding anymore. Thank you so much, Gisela.”
“Brahm helped,” I say, locking eyes with him as we lift Mitzi from the ground.
With her arms around our shoulders, Mitzi can shuffle her way along the path of ashes. The smell of food gets stronger, but my legs and back grow weak, helping Mitzi.
“Can we take a break?” I ask, my legs refusing to carry on.
“No!” Willa bounces and points down the path. “Come on. Something smells so good!”
“I’ll take her for a while,” Gunther says and scoops Mitzi into his arms.
Brahm lends me his arm, and we continue, keeping our distance behind the others. Brahm doesn’t say a word, but I don’t mind the peaceful walk, even leaning my head against his shoulder at times. After about a half-mile, he stops and turns toward me.
“Gisela.” He glances down the path and back to me, grabbing my hands. “Can I tell you something?” His face is strained and slightly pale.
I nod and attempt to keep my heart steady. He made me a crown. He wrote me a song. He held me last night. And now he wants to tell me something.
Brahm steps so close, his chest touches mine. He combs his fingers through the sides of my hair, locking them behind my head. His eye contact is intense, but I can’t look away. Heat rises from my neck to my cheeks.
“I never got the timing right,” he squeaks out and clears his throat. “You were always too young, and I was too old. I made mistakes. When I had finally worked up the courage to tell you how I feel, Wil died; you were angry, and I didn’t know how long you needed.” His amber eyes well with tears, and he studies my face. “I know it’s been scary out here, but spending all this time with you has been amazing. Freckles, I—”
“Hey!” Ferdinand jogs toward us and puts his hand up to his mouth. “Oh, shit! Did I interrupt something?”
Brahm closes his eyes and nods. “Yep, you sure did. What do you need?” He releases me, taking a step back.
“We found a house. A little cottage where the smell of food’s coming from.” Ferdinand waves us to follow. “Come take a look.”
“We’ll be right there,” I say through clenched teeth and scowl at him.
Ferdinand raises his eyebrows and jogs away. Brahm hangs his head and takes a step to follow, but I grab his hand and pull him toward me.
“Brahm.” I grin, rubbing my other hand up his arm. “I hope you’ll finish your speech later. I think it was going well.”
I rise on my toes to kiss his cheek, and Brahm’s three-day scruff tickles my lips. He takes a deep breath and wraps his arms around me in a bear hug.
Brahm kisses my cheek as well, lingering near my ear. “Later, then,” he whispers.
We continue walking, hand-in-hand.
Down the path of ashes, the others peer through the trees. In a clearing with a vegetable garden and rose bushes, stands a tiny house. Plumes of sweet-smelling smoke escape the stone chimney. The surrounding forest and mountains beyond dwarf the cheerfully painted house.