‘So, you’ve been a mendacious Mary over what kind of magic you got.’
‘I’m not magical at all.’
In the cage, Snow groans again, louder this time.
Gretel shrugs at Gilde, as casually as she can. ‘You just assumed I was. It’s OK, so did these guys at first. So did the huntsmen who drove me from my home.’
‘You’re a human,’ says Gilde. ‘In a gang of witches that looks to be starting a war with humans. Why’d they keep yer?’
‘Not against humans,’ argues Gretel, ‘against huntsmen. There’s a huge difference, that’s what we’re trying to—’
‘She’s useful,’ interrupts Snow. ‘That’s why we kept her.’
‘Hey…’ begins Gretel, but she notices Snow’s meaningful glare, and remembers what just happened with the Dwarves. She changes tack. ‘Yep,’ she tells Gilde. ‘I’m useful. I make inventions. Modify the cottage. Improve the defences. Like… design some booby traps for the perimeter, or self-heating soundproof nightcaps for people who go to bed earlier than everyone else. That sort of thing.’
Gilde raises an eyebrow. ‘Heated nightcaps, you say?’
Scarlett looks up. ‘We’ve got a perimeter?’
‘How’s about I do you a deal?’ Gretel asks. ‘How’s about, if I make myself useful to you, do lots of nice new modifications around the cottage, really beef up your defences so that nobody will dare bother you even in hibernation season… do you think maybe you could let my friends go?’
‘Don’t let them go east,’ mutters Hex.
Gilde holds up a hand. ‘You going to work properly? No dilly-dallying, plenty of elbow grease?’
‘My elbows will be lubricated as anything, I promise.’
Gilde considers this. ‘You all stay.’
There is an exasperated tut from underneath Trevor’s cup.
‘For now,’ continues Gilde. ‘But if girlie here makes nicey-nice, and if we like what she makes us and it keeps trouble from our door… then we’ll think about letting you go.’
Gretel sighs with relief. ‘Thank you. I can get started straight away. Um.’ She looks around at the cottage again. ‘I’m probably going to need some sort of forge. Somewhere hot enough to do metalwork, at least. Do you have anything like…’ Everybody’s eyes go back to rest on the detested oven. ‘Oh, no.’
‘’Fraid so, girlie. Hey ho. At least you get to be on the outside of it this time.’ Gilde clicks her fingers. ‘One of youse, tie her to the oven. Close enough to work, not close enough to burn although I’m afraid, girlie, it does get frightful hot, so stay hydrated.’
As Hex pulls Gretel towards the oven, Scarlett gets to her feet. ‘Gilde, listen, now they’re all secure, I had the worst night, and you know the lycanthropy takes it out of me, wolves need so much sleep, so…’
‘You want to go to your bed?’ asks Gilde kindly.
Scarlett nods wearily.
‘Certainly not,’ continues Gilde in the same kind tones. ‘The prisoners need watching. Properly, this time.’ She walks past Scarlett to her own bed. ‘And keep it down. I need my beauty rest.’
17
Do Not Disturb
The cottage has taken on that particular quietness that descends when somebody is having a nap. Gilde snoozes comfortably at the far end of the cottage’s one room. For some time, the only sounds are those of her soft snores, the prisoners and captors alike shifting uncomfortably, and the metallic sounds of Gretel working on contraptions from her spot, tied next to the oven. The room is warm and dozy; Gretel can feel it trying to tug her towards sleep. It’s clear that Scarlett in particular is having difficulty staying awake.
‘I’ve never seen such a sleepy Werewolf before,’ mutters Jack.
‘You ever seen any kind of Werewolf before?’ Scarlett asks, nodding awake with a start for the fourth time.
‘Well… no.’
‘Exactly,’ says Scarlett. ‘Werewolves need loads of sleep as it is, without troublesome houseguests keeping us up at all hours.’
There is a pause. Scarlett closes her eyes again.
‘And Gilde doesn’t let you rest?’ Gretel asks Scarlett, unfortunately at exactly the same moment that Jack asks, ‘What about Vampires?’
‘Hmm?’
‘What about Vampires? Do they get tired too? Because Ghosts don’t need sleep at all, do you, Patience?’
Inside the jar, Patience is still sulking.
‘I was just wondering how it worked for Vampires, and other… you know. Night-time people.’
Scarlett rubs her eyes. ‘“Night-time people”? Really? Besides, I’ve never even met a Vampire; I don’t think they come this far west. Do you think we just hang out with them all the time or something?’
Jack looks a little shamefaced. ‘Is that not how it works, then?’
‘No! Werewolves aren’t even undead, why do I have to keep telling people this? We’re just born lycanthropic, same as you witches. Passed down through the family, in our case. Closest thing in here to some poor beggar half-dead of Vampirism is your Miss Ghost, but I bet you never asked her if she’s met one.’
‘She wouldn’t have had the chance, she only died a few weeks ago.’
‘Oh.’ Scarlett gives an embarrassed, toothy grimace. It reminds Gretel of the expression the sheepdog back at the farm would pull whenever it was mildly rebuked. ‘Sorry for your loss, Miss Ghost.’
Patience shrugs grumpily.
There’s another awkward pause. Gretel draws breath to ask Scarlett again about Gilde’s treatment of her.
‘Zombies, on the other hand, are constantly knackered,’ announces Scarlett. ‘We’ve had a few of them come out of the caves higher up in the mountains over the years. Gilde said there was a mining accident about fifty years ago; they’re only just digging their way out now. They actually seem like a nice bunch. Generally pretty depressed but then, wouldn’t you be?’
‘You really should be given more chance to rest, you know,’ Gretel tells her, hoping to get the conversation back on track, but also finding that she has no helpful or appropriate response to that really sad stuff about the Zombies.
‘You do look very tired, dear,’ adds Buttercup from the cage. ‘Why don’t you take forty winks? It’s not like we can do much right now.’
Scarlett gazes at her, exhausted longing in her expression.
‘It’s a trick,’ Hex reminds her, looking sleepy himself, perched in the gap between the top of the branch cage and the ceiling. ‘Gilde wants us alert.’
Scarlett yawns ruefully. ‘I know.’
Outside the cottage comes the by now familiar, ponderous sound of Baby the bear shambling past. It’s the bear’s third approach so far of the day – a reminder to the prisoners not to try to run again, and a reminder to Scarlett and Hex that the Bear Witch remains in charge, even in her sleep. The unseen bear sounds sluggish, as if he too resents being kept up by this unexpected hostage situation.
‘Must be almost time for hibernation by now,’ notes Snow, listening as the heavy footfall fades away. She nods over at Gilde’s bed. ‘Is that why she needs to sleep so much? Or is it just because she’s getting on a bit?’