Through the fabric of my dress, I trace my finger along the hilt of my dagger. The carved design matches the motif of the cottage. Branches, mountains, and flowers.
“Let’s go. I’m starving.” Willa takes a step into the clearing.
I grab her wrist. “Wait, we don’t know if it’s safe.”
“It’s probably another trick,” Mitzi says, still cradled in Gunther’s arms. “Like the mine.”
We all nod, but the scent of food grows stronger. My mouth waters as my head grows light and fuzzy.
“I don’t care! I’m with Willa. It smells so good. Time to eat,” Ferdinand says, placing his hand on Willa’s lower back. “Looks like we have a date, Blondie.”
“Wait,” Gunther protests. “We can’t just barge in.”
“Fine.” Ferdinand gets in Gunther’s face and shakes his satchel, the jewels clanging. “We’ll pay whoever lives there for some food and a warm bed to sleep in.”
Everyone eagerly agrees. The aroma grows thicker and consumes my mind. The intoxicating scent beckons us forward. As we walk through the grassy clearing, little rays of sunshine radiate through the clouds. How did this house get here in the middle of nowhere? It doesn’t matter, I want to eat. I can’t remember my name at this point; there is nothing besides the scent.
Ferdinand raps his knuckles against the bright red door. We hold our breaths as shuffled footsteps and heavy thuds grow near. A woman as old as the hills opens the door.
“Hello?” The woman’s cloudy cataracts stare past us. We all duck as she swings her cane through the air. “Who’s there?”
Ferdinand clears his throat. “Hello, Frau. We’re Offerings to the goddess Bergot. We have jewels in exchange for food and shelter. We haven’t eaten in days and would appreciate any hospitality you wish to bestow us.”
“Oh, you poor dears!” The woman sniffs the air and grins with only a few teeth. “How many of you are there?”
“There’s six of us, Frau,” Mitzi says. “We won’t eat too much. We don’t want to impose.”
“Don’t be silly. I have plenty. Come in, come in.” The woman gestures us inside and points her cane down the wood-paneled hallway.
Something in the back of my mind pricks at me and tells me to be wary. Then a whiff of apple strudel washes over me, and I stop thinking about anything else. I must eat.
The old woman leads us into a cozy kitchen where a large, floor-to-ceiling oven sits at the back of the room. There’s an adorable gingerbread house sitting in the center of the dining table. A gingerbread boy and girl, whose hands are stuck together with icing, stand before it. Aside from the gingerbread house, though, there’s no food in sight. Where are those amazing smells coming from?
Gunther plops Mitzi into a chair, and we all take seats around the table.
“Give her the jewels,” Brahm says.
“Alright.” Ferdinand opens his satchel. “Here, Frau. Take what you need.”
“That won’t be necessary, child. It’s an honor to meet the Offerings! I’ve been lonely for far too long. The warmth and scent of fresh people are enough of a payment.”
Her comment is strange, but we’re all more concerned with eating.
The woman taps her cane around the nearly empty table. “Hmm, that’s not right. Table, deck yourself.”
With her words, dishes of all sorts appear before us: rouladen, schnitzel, sauerbraten, dumplings, and sauerkraut. Plenty of sweets appear, too: fruit tarts, strudels, and stollens. We all gasp and dig in at once. I drag a bowl of strawberries toward me and grin at the ripe, red fruits.
“Thora loves strawberries,” I say and take a bite. “Mmm, she would devour these.”
The old lady sets a decanter of wine on the table, and it’s empty in no time. Everyone besides me shovels food into their mouths. Even Brahm chugs an entire goblet of wine in one pull.
I place my hand on his thigh. “Slow down,” I whisper. “You haven’t eaten in a couple of days. You don’t want to get sick.”
Brahm stares at the placement of my hand and grins. The old lady circles the table, either serving more dishes or pouring wine.
The few sips I’ve allowed myself to drink have already gone to my head. Why do I feel like this? Across from me, Willa can barely keep her eyes open. Ferdinand leans on Gunther, who rests his head on the table. Mitzi is asleep, her face deep in a pile of sauerkraut.
“Excuse me, Frau. Do you have any extra rooms where we might rest our heads for the night?” I ask.
“Why yes, Fraulein.” She points her cane to the staircase. “You’ll find them upstairs. Mine’s down here. I won’t bother you.”
“Thank you,” Brahm says. “How generous.”
Brahm helps me stand, and we poke and prod at the other Offerings. Brahm lifts the motionless Mitzi from her chair and cradles her.
After I wake Ferdinand, he shakes Gunther’s muscular shoulder. “Let’s go, big guy.”
Willa drapes her arms around my neck, and I drag her up the narrow staircase. There are four bedrooms. Brahm places Mitzi on the bed in the first room and helps me get Willa into the next. Gunther and Ferdinand laugh at something as they stumble with the wine decanter into the third room. Brahm and I are left with the fourth and final one.
I don’t know where our relationship stands, and now we’re forced to share a room and a bed. I open the door and Brahm trips, pinning me against it.
“Sorry.” He flashes his bright smile, melting me inside. “I’m drunker than I realized.”
“I didn’t drink much at all. Something must have been in the food.”
Using my hips as an anchor, Brahm steadies himself against me. My heart races as his eyes shift between my lips and cleavage.
“Gisela, I want to kiss you.”
My breath catches in my throat. There it is. So, he does have feelings for me? I bite my lip to contain a grin, but my head falls to the side, and my eyes lose focus. I’m so drunk. Or poisoned. Or both. After all this time, our first kiss can’t be like this.
“I want you to, but I would also like to remember it.” I take a deep breath as my knees buckle beneath me.
“Alright.” Brahm grabs under my arms and brings his lips to my ear. “Then, I shall wake you with a kiss.”
“I hope you do, my prince.”
We giggle and stumble across the room, falling onto the bed. Brahm goes to kiss my cheek but instead kisses the tiny spot on my neck near my ear. I gasp and try to keep my eyes open, but the room spins until everything goes dark.
“GiGi,” Thora’s voice wails.
I open my eyes, barely able to see through the dense fog. The crown of bones is heavy on my head.
“GiGi,” she whimpers. “I’m hungry.”
I rush toward the sounds of my sister crying and find the group of dead, rotten fairy tale creatures. They perk up at my sight and stagger toward me. I take slow steps back until I hit a thick tree.
“Beware the old lady,” the burnt boy and girl chant in unison as they hobble forward. “Get out.”
The crowd of creatures reaches for the crown and tug. They painfully rip the eerie diadem from my skull.
My eyes spring open, and my head is wedged against a cold metal bar. I’m in the old woman’s kitchen. I wipe a layer of sweat from my forehead. As I sit upright inside a cage, the other Offerings are asleep inside their own. Brahm stirs in the cage next to me, flailing and darting his eyes around the room. He grabs the bars and peeks through at me.