“Are you alright?” he whispers.
“I think so.” I press against the door of my cage, but it’s locked. The other Offerings begin to stir. I turn back to Brahm and reach for his hand through the bars. “You?”
“Yeah.” He takes my hand, rubbing his thumb inside my palm. “What should we—”
“We’re locked up,” Ferdinand shouts as he rattles the lock on his cage. “Help! Help!”
“Shh!” The rest of us hush him.
Too late. A door creaks open, and the blind lady’s cane thuds toward us. When she enters the kitchen, she sniffs and smiles.
“Good morning, Offerings!” She laughs and lets her cane fall to the floor. “Everyone’s full and flavored. I’m going to enjoy this.”
“Let us out!” Willa shouts.
The lady ignores her and reaches into Ferdinand’s cage, grabbing his ankle. “No, not you.” She moves to Gunther’s. “No, too large. You’ll be better for the main course.”
The lady touches my leg, and I kick her. She jumps back. “Ooh, you’ll be fun for dessert.”
She reaches into Mitzi’s cage. “A wounded creature. Yes. You’ll be a dainty little mouthful of an appetizer.”
The woman uses a key tied to a bone and unlocks Mitzi’s cage.
“No. Please, no!” Mitzi cries as the old lady grabs her by the hair.
“Leave her alone!” I shout, but the witch ignores me.
The old woman slathers butter onto Mitzi’s arms and cheeks. As she turns to open the spice cabinet, Mitzi darts for an open window, which slams shut on its own accord. The witch curls her finger, causing Mitzi to fly back toward the oven by magic. Mitzi grabs her thigh and winces in pain. Blood blooms onto her dress; the stitches must have popped. She leans against the counter and sobs.
The witch cackles. “There’s nowhere for you to go, my dear,” she says, selecting little jars and bottles from the cabinet.
Mitzi turns her head to me with tears in her deep brown eyes.
I mouth the words, “Get the key,” and point in the direction of the witch’s apron.
Mitzi nods. The witch drags her toward the butcher counter. Mitzi sneaks the bone and key from the apron, tossing them to me.
The witch takes out some pots and pans, so I use the noise as a cover while I unlock my cage. I free Brahm, Gunther, Willa, and Ferdinand as the witch sprinkles herbs onto Mitzi’s head and skin. Little green specks of thyme and rosemary easily stick to the thick butter on Mitzi’s arms.
The five of us look back and forth at one another, unsure of what to do. Brahm tries to open a window, but it’s stuck. Gunther tiptoes down the hall to the front door, but it’s also locked.
Brahm points to the witch, who’s lighting the huge oven. Yes. Like Hansel and Gretel. We all nod. Ferdinand is closest, so Gunther throws his fingers up and mouths, “One, two, three…”
Ferdinand barrels toward the witch, just as she grabs Mitzi’s waist.
We all shout, “No!”
It’s too late. Ferdinand’s force meets both women, and they tumble into the oven. The butter on Mitzi’s skin bursts into flames at once as the oven door falls shut. Brahm rushes forward and yanks the handle, but it won’t budge. Mitzi’s high-pitched screams pierce my ears. I lunge to open the oven myself, but Brahm holds me back from the intense heat. He shows me his palms, which are burnt and blistered.
Mitzi and the witch scream and flail for only a moment longer. I sob into Brahm’s chest. We’re left with only the sound of my shrieks and the crackling fire burning their corpses.
When the house grows silent, I shout, “You fucking idiot!” I push Brahm’s arms away, draw up my dress, and unsheathe my dagger. I lunge and swipe at Ferdinand, who cowers behind his hands and tries to duck. “You just murdered Mitzi!”
I take another swipe and slice his arm. Precious rubies drip from my blade. The metallic scent hits my nose, and I desire more. Ferdinand screams and jumps back as I pounce again.
“Her eyes are black! What the fuck? Get her away from me!” Ferdinand yells.
Gunther grabs my arms and holds them behind my back while Brahm pries the dagger from my fingers. I glare at him as the windows and doors of the cottage fly open. Brahm and Gunther carry me outside, kicking and screaming.
I crumple to my knees in the ashes and drop the bone and key, which were still gripped in my left hand. Gunther heads back inside as Willa walks out with tears streaming down her pale cheeks. She kneels and hugs me, whimpering into my shoulder. I can’t return her hug because I’m too shaky thinking about Mitzi’s screams. Dark flecks of ash escape the chimney and float away, like Heidi and Liam.
When Ferdinand steps through the cottage door, I shove Willa away and reach for my dagger in Brahm’s hand. He raises it high into the air, and I fall flat on the ground. I fumble to push myself up and sprint toward Ferdinand. Tackling him to the ground, I deliver a swift blow to his nose.
“Stop! I’m sorry, Red. It was an accident!” he shouts as I punch him again and again. “Help! Her eyes are black. She’s crazy!”
Brahm rips me away from Ferdinand by my shoulders and pins my arms to the ground.
“Get the fuck off me!”
I squirm under his weight until I surrender and relax my muscles. The tears pour down my cheeks as Brahm lifts me. I lightly pound my fists into his chest before wrapping my arms around his neck.
“It’s alright, Freckles.” Brahm strokes my hair. “This is bad, I know this is very bad. But Ferdinand was just trying to save us from that witch. You know it was an accident. We’re all sad about Mitzi, but fighting isn’t what she would want.”
I’m trembling, and my breathing is too erratic to speak. Mitzi didn’t deserve to die like that. She was a sweet person.
Gunther exits the witch’s cottage, his arms loaded down with all of our belongings. He hands out satchels and gives Brahm his lute. Along with my own, Gunther tosses Mitzi’s satchel next to me. I place the bone and key next to the sewing kit, apple, and shard of the magic mirror—all painful reminders of Mitzi.
“I’m so sorry, everyone,” Ferdinand says, staring at the ground. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for Mitzi to fall into the oven with the witch. I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”
Ferdinand sniffles as Gunther pats his back.
I move from Brahm’s embrace and stand. “We’ll have a memorial for her.” I look around and point. “There, by the cliff.”
The fog has cleared enough for us to see a bit more of the landscape. There’s a beautiful rock ledge overlooking the forest and a river in the valley.
“That’s a great idea,” Brahm says as he helps Willa stand. “Let’s light a little bonfire for her and say a few words.”
With that, everyone sets out to collect logs and sticks in the woods. Brahm returns my dagger to me and stays near, even though I refuse to speak. We gather firewood until the wind picks up and blows the fog toward us through the trees.
We set off into a sprint as the white mist envelops us. In moments, I can no longer see Brahm or anything else. Little faces of the rotten fairy tale creatures appear in the fog, and I dash away from them. I bump into a tree and crash to my ground, dropping my branches. When the fog dissipates, I collect my sticks and search for Brahm. Where did he go?