Page 110 of Night of the Witch
“Otto!” Fritzi screams my name and rushes toward me.
“I told you he was fine,” Liesel mutters.
Fritzi throws herself at me, and I catch her, rubbing my hands over her arms—her hair and clothes are damp. “Why are you wet?”
“Fell in the river.” She buries her face into my neck, and for a moment, I feel the way Holda cut open my throat, cheerily telling me she had avoided my arteries, the warmth of blood—my blood—flowing down my body—
“Was it terrible?” Fritzi asks, pulling back and eyeing me.
“Just a normal chat with a goddess,” I say. “She kept trying to cut me open or set me on fire. Did you meet one?”
“Mine was big on emotional torture,” Fritzi said, shuddering. I holdher tightly, my jaw working. Holda had called me a warrior, but if those damn goddesses hurt Fritzi again, they’ll see how much of a fighter I can be.
“It wasn’t torture.” Liesel rolls her eyes. “It was just a test. You both passed, by the way.”
It’s clear that all three of us have met with the goddesses. I suppose it’s fitting; Fritzi had told me about “the Three” before, the Maid, Mother, and Crone. Three of them, three of us. But while Holda had seemed just fine causing me pain and while the goddess that tested Fritzi had clearly not been kind, Liesel seems oddly calm.
“I was tested by Perchta, the Mother,” Fritzi tells me, guessing at my confusion. “Liesel was chosen by Abnoba long ago.”
“We’re friends,” Liesel says.
Friends. With a terrifying goddess.
There is still an echo in my mind of what Holda told me—Fritzi needs a warrior. Of course I will defend her, and Liesel too, but…
From what?
I look around me for the first time since the mist closed over my body, one arm still protectively around Fritzi’s waist.
We are no longer in the Black Forest. At least not anywhere near where we entered. The frost-rimmed river with snowcapped boulders outlining it is now a pleasantly warm bubbling brook with pale pink flowers floating on the surface. The ground is not craggy and treacherous; gently rolling hills covered in soft moss and meadow grass give way to trees three, four times larger than any I have seen before. The enormous trunks are smooth, as if the bark is made of silver, with long, low branches that swoop down, white blossoms amid the leaves and needles.
A warm breeze blows, and I throw back my cloak. It feels like late spring, not the dead of winter, with blossoms and the sweet smell of ripe fruit everywhere.
“Look.” Fritzi’s voice is an awed whisper as she points up.
Elegantly carved houses are nestled in the tree branches, grander than any palace. Bridges connect the trees, but they seem to have been grown, not carved—the long limbs extending out from one treeloft palace to another, branches twisting up to form covered walkways.
We head toward the village, but before we get very far, we hear chanting.
“What is that?” I ask.
Fritzi frowns, and she and Liesel exchange a look. “It’s a spell,” Fritzi says slowly, as if she’s still muddling through it, uncertain of what the spell may mean.
“Smell that?” Liesel asks.
“Sage,” Fritzi says immediately. “Rosemary. Protection herbs.”
“We had to face a trio of goddesses just to get here,” I say. “How does this land need further protection?”
Fritzi’s jaw clenches. My heart sinks—not because the greatest threat to magic is Dieter Kirch, but because Dieter is Fritzi’s brother, and the forest folk are reinforcing the protection to keep him out.
We round a hill, and we see a line of guards patrolling a well-worn path around the perimeter of the village. Other people hang in the distance, chanting and weaving their arms in some form of magic, but when they see us, they all freeze, turning to look at the invaders.
I keep one hand on Fritzi, unwilling to let her go after we were forcibly separated by the goddesses, but my other hand drops to my sword hilt.
“Otto, don’t be an idiot,” Liesel says flatly.
The armed guards step forward, while the magic-users retreat into the trees. The soldiers do not cower or hesitate. Men and women alike have long hair, most of them with elaborate braids, some glittering with shiny beads, some woven with greenery, some bound in strands of gold and silver.
