Gretel 's first impression was of green—green vines and leaves and burning eyes glaring down at her from a great height. Scrambling to her feet, she realized the creature was only a little taller than her and human looking, more or less. Her clothes, if that's what you could call them, seemed to have grown on her and maybe they had. They were the same, dark green as her neck and chest, what Gretel could see of it. They were skin tight and had the same, sleek smoothness as leaves or grass. Vines grew around her arms and legs. One snaked up around her body. Only her face and hands were human colored.

And her feet, Gretel saw with a quick glance down. They were all the same white-pink. But her feet stretched behind her instead of in front.

Hansel had followed the footsteps, but they hadn't led anywhere. Because he would have been following them back to wherever she'd been, not getting closer.

The creature's face might have been pretty if she hadn't been so furious—and if Gretel hadn't been so sure she was even more dangerous than the evil queen or the blind witch. She looked almost like a flower, a pale circle bursting from the deep green. Even her ears were green. But, her hair was a sunlight yellow, little knobs along her brow like small buds about to flower. The rest was caught up in a short braid at the top of her head, ending in a loose burst like a giant dandelion puff. Her eyes weren't green, Gretel realized with surprise. She had been certain when she first saw them they were. It had been like looking into a forest and feeling its rage. Now, standing face to face, she saw they were ice blue, cold as death and burning with murderous fury, worse than anything she'd felt from the queen.

X

The humans stared stupidly at Curupira, not even bothering to answer her question in the second or two she gave them to try, so she lunged for their throats. Maybe they'd be a little more talkative with her claws wrapped round their necks. But, a small stick-figure jumped in her way.

"I am Groot."

"What does it look like I'm doing?" she snapped, making another lunge. The sprite leaped back in her way, waving his small arms.

"I am Groot."

"I don't care. They shouldn't be here!"

He shot out vines to block her. "I am Groot."

"What does that have to do with anything? It's my forest!"

"I am Groot!"

"Of course, it's your home, too. That's why I protect it. It's for the ones who have a right to be here." She tried to get past on the other side. More vines appeared, stopping her. Unless she wanted to rip off his arms. Tempting. They grew back, after all. But, she wasn't that angry. Yet.

Meanwhile, despite the vines growing from him, Groot managed to wave behind him, taking in the whole forest. "I am Groot."

"No, it's not the same. They have a home of their own, and it isn't here."

"I am Groot?"

Curupira glared at the humans. "Well?"

They looked frightened. Or guilty. Definitely guilty. But, Curupira realized for the first time, they were young. Still children. Not that humans didn't stay young and stupid for ages longer than any other creature (forever, if you counted the adults). But (she admitted grudgingly), it meant they couldn't help being young and stupid. At this age, it was how they were supposed to be.

"Well what?" the boy asked.

Curupira rolled her eyes. Yes, they were stupid, all right. "This is what you want to protect?"

Groot shrugged. "I am Groot."

"They can't help being idiots, either."

"I am Groot." He tapped his foot impatiently.

"Oh, fine. I'll tell them." She glared at the two of them. "He said maybe you don't have a home. Is he right?"

The boy and girl looked pale and ready to cry, the last thing Curupira needed. "Maybe?" the girl said.

Curupira grit her teeth. If she wanted vapid answers that went nowhere, she'd go chat with Iara. "'Maybe' isn't an answer."

"We had a home," the girl said. "We lived with our father. I—I think the evil queen took him. She's the one who sent us here."

"Evil queen? You mean Zad? No, wait, he's dead. Still dead. And he was a male. I'm pretty sure. Queens are what humans call it when a female makes the rules, aren't they?"

"Y-yes ma'am," the girl said.

Ma'am. It was a human word, but Curupira was fairly sure it was respectful. "Why did she take your father? Did he break one of her rules?"

"No, ma'am!" the girl said, but her conviction gave way to uncertainty. "I don't think so. Papa's a woodcutter." She looked nervously at Groot.

He waved this off. "I am Groot."

"He says he understands," Curupira said.

"He does?" the boy blurted out.

"He helped you build the fire, didn't he? He'd stop you from chopping down the forest, but he has more in common with you than he does with a few twigs. Less than you have in common with those fish."

The boy looked queasily at the fish still cooking by the fire. "We do?"

"Eyes, mouths, skin, backbones, and the intelligent look on your faces. Is that what your father tried to do? Chop down this queen's forest?" Not that humans usually lived in forests. Most of them preferred those clusters of dung heaps to live in. Villages, they called them.

"Papa obeyed the law!" the girl said indignantly. This was followed by a passionate speech about whatever laws humans had for their woodcutters. Her papa had places he was allowed to cut and places he wasn't and there were rules about what he could take and how much and these were ancient traditions and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.

Curupira cut her off before they all died of boredom. "Your papa did something to make this queen angry. If it wasn't chopping down trees, what was it?"

"We were looking for Papa when the queen found us," the girl told her. "She said she'd help us find him if we did something for her."

"Kill my animals? Burn down my forest?"

The last wasn't really fair. From the look on her face—and the way she looked at the sopping wet trees all around them—the girl knew this as well as Curupira did. The Dark One himself would have his work cut out for him, burning down her forest on a day like today (not that he couldn't do it if he tried hard enough). But, the girl was the trespasser, and no one ever said Curupira had to be fair, anyway.

"She wanted us to rob a witch," the girl said.

A witch? Curupira was the only power in this forest. Did she mean her? Did the girl think she was a witch? A measly, weak, human witch? Curupira flexed her claws, tempted to grab the girl and suck the life right out of her. But, no. The human went on to explain what had happened to them, how they had broken into a witch's cottage, been caught (the girl shot the boy a look; the boy looked guilty), and how they had almost been—

"I am Groot?" Groot gasped.

Curupira agreed. But, maybe she'd misunderstood them? "Aren't witches human?"

The girl grimaced. "Yes." Well, at least, she admitted it when one of her species was awful.

"There might be Troll witches," the boy said. "Or Fairy witches. Or Ogre or Dwarve witches."

"Dwarves are all boys," the girl said.

"That doesn't make sense. Where do baby Dwarves come from?"

"I don't know, but Papa says they're all boy Dwarves in the mines and Papa would know."

"Maybe girl Dwarves don't work in the mines. Or maybe they call them something else. Maybe there are Dwarfette witches."

Curupira, remembered why it was a waste of time to explain things to humans, didn't bother telling him how many, many things were wrong with that. She stuck to the issue at hand. "But, the witch you tried to rob was human?"

"I thought she was. She looked human," the girl said.

"And she was going to eat you? You couldn't be mistaken?"

"She was firing up the oven."

"She was trying to decide if she wanted to cook us with butter or gravy." The boy shuddered at the memory.

"You're sure she meant it? She wasn't just trying to frighten you?"

"She had a big pile of bones in her house," the girl said. "Human ones. Child sized."

"And the queen who sent you there, did she know the witch was going to eat you?"

"The queen said we weren't the first ones she sent in," the boy said.

The girl nodded. "And she knew the others didn't come out."

"I am Groot."

"Yes, it's disgusting. But, here they are, uneaten. How'd that happen?"

"We locked her in the oven," the girl admitted.

"And ate her?"

"Of course not!"

"No 'of course' about it. You left her in an oven, didn't you?"

The children gave a slightly garbled account of how that happened. Curupira, who knew the stench of fear, could smell the memory of it on them as they told their story. It came down to desperation, luck, and a bit of skill. But, mostly luck. And shoving the witch into her own oven.

"I am Groot?"

"Oh, that's obvious enough. She couldn't, could she? The price for her magic, I bet."

"She couldn't what?" the girl asked.

"Get out of her oven. Once she was locked in, she needed someone else to let her out, probably the same one who put her in in the first place. That's why she didn't just magic the door open. And why she never left her cottage. Someone must have locker her in there, too." Curupira wondered if the imp was behind it. He'd never liked child-eating monsters. Pity the witch had found a way to bring children to her.

Groot looked worried. "I am Groot?"

"Yes, I'm certain. If she could come here, she already would have." She glared at the interlopers. "It's not like their trail is hard to follow. But, that still doesn't explain what they're doing in my forest."

"The queen sent us," the girl said. "She said she'd help us find our father if we helped her, but she didn't. She sent us here instead."

"Sent you how? Dragged you in a wagon and threw you out with the trash?" Curupira sneered, knowing it was impossible—or it was supposed to be.

"She did magic," the boy said.

Another nod from the girl. "She threw something at us. It was like being outside in a thunderstorm. Wind was blowing all around us and we couldn't see. Then, we woke up here."

"Magic," Curupira growled. "Magic."

Groot stepped back from her. "Uh . . . I am Groot?"

"Oh, I'm reasonable. I'm perfectly reasonable. Rumplestiltskin? Rumplestiltskin! I know you can hear me! Get over here right now, Rumplestiltskin!"

Groot ducked behind the girl as a high-pitched titter rang through the little clearing. "Now, now, dearie, if you yell at people like that—" the scaled, extravagantly dressed figure of the imp stepped from around a tree. The rain stopped. Water didn't even drip off the trees, not getting his silk shirt or leather pants damp. The wet, muddy ground suddenly hard enough his high, laced boots weren't didn't get any dirt on them, "-they may think you aren't happy to see them." The imp's smile was a manic as ever, but a hard light appeared in his eyes. "You wouldn't want me to think that, would you? Dearie?" There was the faintest hint of warning in his voice.

Good. He knew Curupira was angry with him. She had a right to be angry with him. "Maybe we aren't. One of your humans is throwing her rubbish in my forest. How do you explain that? We had a deal."