Inside the sugar high hut, Lacey could see the slight frame of Gretel tending to the fire on her knees. Behind her, the giant wingback chair hid the Blind Witch from sight, but Lacey knew she was sitting there, watching. Pulling and tugging at her bindings, Lacey grumbled and growled under her breath as she struggled to free herself.
The children had been right; the Blind Witch had shown little interest in Lacey. She had locked Hansel in the cage, the poor boy nearly bent in two unless he crouched down, before having Gretel help tie Lacey up outside. Despite her disability, Lacey was confident that the witch had enjoyed the tableau of a wretched Gretel sobbing as she bound her only chance of rescue to a tree. It did seem a bit simple for a witch's way of dispatching an adult. She had half expected to be magicked to dust or turned into a bug.
But no, she was tied up outside, no less deadly. If animals didn't get to her in the night, hypothermia, thirst or hunger should do the trick eventually. Lacey warranted the small talisman tucked away in her bodice would continue to protect her against animals, but the elements were another matter.
While she had been confused at first, Lacey quickly caught on to the witch's modus operandi. The tree she was bound to was strategically placed so Lacey had a clear view of the fireplace. Gretel occasionally would look out the window and see her yards away in the darkness, and they both knew she was unable to help them or herself. This particular punishment was more to inspire fear and dread. The witch obviously enjoyed playing with her food before she ate it. Gretel's terror and Hansel's hopelessness as they awaited their deaths were merely appetizers prior to the main course. And as for her, Lacey had a sinking suspicion that she was meant to watch.
Her fingers, numb from lack of circulation, were bloody from her exertions, but Lacey gritted her teeth against the pain. This might not be entirely her fault, but there was no way in hell she was going to stand idly by while this fruitcake ate the Holz children. "Now would be a really good time to pop in," Lacey mumbled to the nonpresent Imp. "Feel free. Anytime now."
He did not appear. No stirrings of magic whispered against her skin or made the hairs on the back of her neck rise up. No, it seemed whatever deal he was facilitating elsewhere was taking up his time from rescue missions.
From inside, she heard the faint sounds of talking. Lacey jerked her head back up as the back door swung open and Gretel hurried out. Her shoulders hunched and shaking as she kept her eyes on her feet. The door hung ajar behind her and Lacey could see Hansel crouching in his cage, face hidden in his knees.
"Gretel," Lacey whispered. "What's happening?"
"She wants to talk to you," Gretel said miserably, tear tracks down her round cheeks. As she leaned into undo the ties, she began to whisper. "Maybe she'll let you go and you can get father."
Knowing the girl's optimism was ill-fated, Lacey stood still to allow the girl to unknot the bindings. As they fell away, Lacey collapsed forward, shrugging her shoulders to get circulation back into her arms as she massaged her torn and bruised wrists. Gretel turned to head back inside but Lacey caught her. "Go back to the trail," Lacey whispered, eyes locked on the door. "Follow the breadcrumbs back."
Gretel was crying again. Huge tears leaked out of her big brown eyes as she shook her head. "I won't leave Hans," she said fiercely. "He wouldn't leave me."
As an only child, Lacey had never quite understood sibling loyalty. She knew plenty of people who hated their family, including their brothers and sisters, others who were merely apathetic to their blood relations, and sure, one or two who Lacey privately thought were a little too attached to their siblings. But she had somehow grown used to the two Holz children being at each other's side constantly. It was not weird, it simply was.
"Okay," Lacey grumbled as they began to move towards the ajar door. A plan was beginning to occur to Lacey but if it was to work, she would risk losing the children's trust. "When we get inside-"
"What's taking so long?" came a sugary sweet voice from inside. "You wouldn't want to catch a cold, would you?"
The witch could clearly hear them perfectly. With one last pointed look at Gretel, Lacey straightened and made her way purposefully into the cottage. Hansel did not stir. He kept his head down, and Lacey ignored him too. She had once been his age, embarrassed, lost and scared. Sometimes she had needed someone to be there, and sometimes she had needed someone to look the other way while she cried. She could at least do that for him.
Marching directly in front of the wingback chair, she glared down at the Blind Witch, hands on her hips and fire in her eyes. "So, what's your excuse then?" Lacey demanded.
The Blind Witch blinked, a small smile curving her lips as she peered up unseeingly in Lacey's general direction. Gretel had moved quietly to the cage, kneeling down to hold her brother's hands through the bars. "I beg your pardon?" The witch said softly, a hint of steel lacing her amused tone.
"I said," Lacey repeated, eyes flickering to the frightened children in the corner. "What is your excuse for detaining me in such a manner?"
A peal of laughter issued from the razor sharp mouth, a pale hand fluttering towards her. Lacey flinched but no magic issued forth. "Why," the pale witch drawled. "You're rather spicy, aren't you?"
"You ask a lot of questions," Lacey responded curtly. "How about you try and answer one?"
The witch stood so quickly, Lacey didn't realize it at first. She took a quick half step backwards, and immediately felt the heat of the fire on her back. Blank white eyes shone yellow and red from the flames as shadows licked at her heels. "Do you dare to speak to me in such a manner? Do you not know who I am?"
Lacey stepped towards the side, away from the fire's greedy fingers as she tried to avoid any involuntary noises that would give her up. "No one of importance," Lacey bluffed. She cast about for inspiration and found it in the very walls of their prison. "Jus some sightless hack who lures children in with a cavity of a house. If you hadn't magicked the trail to confuse and maroon anyone over the age of puberty, I doubt you'd still be alive."
"An attempt to rouse me?" The Blind Witch moved closer, hand cocked at an impossible angle as she stared through her. Lacey stood her ground despite every nerve ending screaming at her to run. The children were watching; their lives were dependent on her. So, she waited, knowing the witch had a reason for bringing her inside, for sparing her life in the first place even for just a little while. After a moment, the witch showed her hand. "Tell me, who do you work for?"
"You don't know?" Lacey asked, stalling for time. So, the witch had kept her alive while she tried to find out from the children why they were here. Failing that, she had decided to try another tactic, bringing her in for questioning. Lacey's plan could work, just as long as the Imp was notorious in all realms and not just certain ones.
The witch stood waiting, hands curled out as if she was waiting to take something, a life or a hand, Lacey couldn't be sure. She had yet to perform any magic and Lacey wondered if her magic differed from the powers she had seen so far. Perhaps it explained why she had a gingerbread house in the forest instead of a dark castle or a sea kingdom under her thrall. "My master," Lacey started, allowing herself a slight shudder of distaste at the word, "is lord of the Dark Castle-"
A hiss issued from the witch at those words, her hands twisting into claws as she approached Lacey. "Lešak? He dares and send a mortal to parlay with me?"
As many names as realms, apparently, Lacey thought as she took a few steps hastily backwards. She tried to catch the children's eyes, but they were too far in shadow to see. Here was the rub. If she convinced the witch she worked for someone more powerful and evil than her, she would probably never gain the trust of the children back. Wavering for a moment, Lacey pressed on. Far better for them to hate her for the rest of their lives than die in the middle of the woods, eaten alive by a cannibal witch. "Wonder how he'll take your plans to eat the virgins he sent me out to collect?" Lacey asked pointedly. "You know how he is when he doesn't get his way."
Apparently, she did. Momentarily deflated, the witch stopped in her tracks. "His?" She looked towards the cage, inhaling deeply. Lacey, realizing it was not just sound that alerted the witch, it was also smell. Gretel had stood and was slowly approaching behind them. At the witch's focus, she had frozen and slowly began to back up again. She had her eyes locked on the witch but her eyes darted to Lacey, hurt and betrayal evident in the tightness of her mouth and the look in her eyes.
"I was sent to bring them to him," Lacey said quickly, diverting the witch's attention from the girl. She motioned for the girl to return to the corner where she would be out of the way. "He mentioned you might be still lurking around but not to worry," Lacey continued with a grin, stepping forward. Her eyes watched the clawed nails. "He said you weren't much of a threat."
"How dare he!?" The witch trembled with rage. Lacey winced but the Blind Witch did not lash out. No magic or claws touched her and Lacey began to believe she could do this.
"You're scared," Lacey whispered, leaning in until she was cheek to cheek with the cannibal. "Let us go and he might find it within himself to be merciful."
Laughter followed this. Lacey stepped back and caught sight of the witch's face. A wild grin stretched across her face, the razor sharp teeth gnashing as she clapped her hands together. "Do I look a fool?" she asked mockingly. "Lešak does not eat, he does not sleep, he does not have these needs, but surely you knew that?"
Lacey began to back up, eyes glancing between the Blind Witch and the minefield that was her cottage. The witch seemed to know the place as if it was part of her. She sidestepped every obstacle with ease, her full skirt whispering over the floor as she advanced. "Now, the question is, shall you die before or after the children?"
Involuntarily, Lacey glanced over to the children. Hansel's face framed by bars triggered a memory. A kind face had rescued her once from behind bars. He had overcome all the odds and she had made it out alive. He had not.
Lacey felt the table's edge dig into her hip and she faltered. The witch, cackled as if she had been anticipating this weakness. Lacey glanced down at the table to get her bearing. She noticed a wicked looking boning knife buried in the wood. It was halfway down the table, just out of reach.
"Now what, hmm?" The witch savored. "Tell me… will there be anyone to mourn you?"
"God, you're annoying," Lacey remarked drily, edging towards the other side of the table. "What is this twenty fucking questions?"
Snarling, the witch lunged, sinking her claws across Lacey's flesh. As the long sharp nails ripped down Lacey's arm, catching her bodice and ripping it into shreds, there was the sound of something metallic against the floor. Whirling, the witch loomed over Gretel, who stood in the center of the room holding a long poker.
The small girl froze under the force of the witch, only her eyes darted to the fireplace. "Where do you think you're going?" the witch asked, forgetting Lacey for a moment. "Are you trying to be a hero?"
Lacey glanced over, trying to find out what Gretel had been up to when she saw a small bundle of keys above the mantle. They dangled just out of reach for a child, but not if she used something to knock them free.
The witch's face was darkening, her jaw gaping wide open as she prepared to strike, and Lacey knew the girl would not raise the weapon in her own defence. Without thinking it through, Lacey lunged on the witch's back, trying to wrestle her to the floor. The spell broken, Gretel darted out of the way as Lacey fought to keep a hold on the infuriated witch.
Reeling backwards and flinging her elbows out, the witch managed to throw Lacey off her. Lacey wound up flat on her back on the table, stunned and wheezing for air. A moment later, a milky white hand, traced with faint blue veins clasped around Lacey's neck. With an ease that betrayed the small figure, the witch bodily lifted her off the table. Lacey dug her own hands into the witch's grip, as she fought for breath, but her feet could not get traction.
"Die," the witch hissed. Her face darkened and her jaws gaped open like a snake's as she moved her face to Lacey's.
With her vision starting to blacken, Lacey barely saw the whirl of silver descending from just over the witch's shoulder. As it hit the side of the witch's head, the creature staggered, dropping Lacey into a heap on the floor. Gasping, Lacey sucked as much air as she could into her abused lungs as she struggled to raise herself up. Gretel stood behind the witch, between them and her brother. The child struggled against the witch's thrall, panting as she tried to hold the poker up in defense as the witch beared down on her.
The Blind Witch rushed at Gretel in a whirl of skirts and fury. Hansel cried out a warning, but it was too late. As the witch pounced, Gretel only barely managed to raise her weapon in defense. Misjudging the girls' determination, the witch did not alter her momentum and a sickening squish emanated from between them.
For a moment, no one made a sound. Then, Gretel whimpered and dropped the rod, stepping backwards as if to turn and run. Wheezing, the Blind Witch swayed on her heels and turned sideways. Lacey struggled to her knees as she watched the witch clutch at the steel rod buried in her stomach. Unseeing eyes blinked as if dazed, and the witch's pale hands came away from her center, dark with black blood.
Standing up, Lacey gasped, hand rubbing at her raw throat. "Gretel," Lacey wheezed, moving to the side of the shell shocked girl. The girl winced, moving away as if Lacey had burned her. There was no warmth or trust in the child's eyes. She was no longer the same little girl who had cried when she had to kill a chicken for dinner.
"Can you get home?" Lacey asked softly. Gretel did not answer. She watched the Blind Witch, her eyes glassy, but no tears trickled down her cheeks now. Lacey knew that look. She had seen it often enough in the mirror. Kindness and soft words were not going to break through. Steeling herself, she barked, "Gretel!" The kid jumped, eyes finding hers even though they were narrowed in distrust. "As soon as Hansel's free, can you get home?"
For a moment, Lacey doubted if the girl would answer her. Finally, Gretel nodded.
Lacey moved around the edges of the cottage, keeping her distance from the moaning witch bleeding out in the center of the room. Careful of the heat of the flames, hot enough to cause sweat to break out across her temples, Lacey plucked the keys from their place on the wall. The Blind Witch was still standing in the center of the room, pulling at the poker stick. In the cage, Hansel had been sick. He was wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as silent tears rolled down his face.
Lacey gave Gretel the keys, nudging her to her brother. "Get him out," she instructed. When the girl didn't move, Lacey bent down, careful to keep an eye on the injured witch. "It's over," Lacey assured her. "Go take care of your brother."
Gretel wrenched her eyes free as she moved jerkily towards the far wall. Lacey turned back to the issue at hand. The witch had managed to remove the poker stick, dropping it on the floor as she staggered closer to the flames. Lacey followed her, eyes focused on the long dreads, the ends splattered with black blood.
Nearby, her eyes caught the gleam of the knife that had been stabbed into the table, blood still rusted on the knife would be used for something else in the end, she decided, something other than death. Lacey pulled it free, moving forward until she was just out of reach of the razor sharp nails.
The witch looked up as Lacey advanced on her. "Bested by a kid," Lacey whispered to her, keeping her eyes off the mortal wound. "Have you magical psychos ever heard of hubris?" The witch cocked her head, her face a mask of pain and confusion. Lacey continued forward, grim amusement coloring her tone."They say it's a real bitch."
"Laughing already?" the Witch coughed. Blood mixed with her spit, coating her white chin with a pink froth. "Do you have any idea who you're dealing with? Do you think a mere flesh wound will kill me?"
Lacey didn't actually. She didn't know much of the way witches or magic worked in this land. If impaling wouldn't do the trick…
"Gretel," Hansel called from behind her. "Let's go!"
Lacey turned to find the girl holding the bloody poker in her hands as if she meant to finish the job. At the look in her eyes, Lacey was not sure if she had meant to attack the witch or her. "You go on," Lacey said, looking back to the injured witch. "I'll finish it."
Gretel did not say anything but Lacey heard the sound of the poker hitting the floor and retreating footsteps as she joined her brother. The door creaked open as the children made their escape. The witch groaned, taking a shaky step forward as if to reclaim them. Lacey blocked her way, reaching up and grabbing one of her dreadlocks. Her other hand came up, knife in hand to slice it free.
A scream and a wretched snarl followed this as the witch's hands flew to her hacked off hair. Wailing, her nails reached out to tear at Lacey's face. Twisting away, Lacey lashed out, elbowing the witch's bloody core as she tried to protect her face. The witch immediately recoiled, clutching at her gut. She moaned as she struggled back upright, but she did not seem as fatally wounded as Lacey had thought. "A hair?" the witch groaned, backing away from her. "He sent you for the hair?"
"I wanted to do this the easy way," Lacey reminded her as she pocketed the hair and the knife. "But you magical morons have to make everything so goddamn dramatic."
"Do you think he won't betray you?" the Blind Witch asked, trying a new tactic. Her words gurgled as blood came to her lips. "How long before he sends someone to dispatch of you?"
A cold chill ran up Lacey's neck. She knew it was from the recently opened door, the warmth of the fire at her front making the outside air feel cooler. But part of her knew the warning was well warranted. The Imp might need her for his own needs, but he had shown little interest in helping keep her alive. It had been up to her to survive. It had always been up to her.
Taking advantage of the silence, the witch staggered closer to her, a hand reaching out to her as blood dripped to stain the straw on the floor. "Together, we could defeat him, hmm? Imagine all of his power at our command, can't you see it?"
Lacey let out a wheezing chuckle as she shook her head. "I just want to go home," she confessed. "I want to be back in the city with cars and cell phones and internet... and where monsters aren't real things lurking in the woods."
The witch did not seem to understand the unfamiliar words. She simply cocked her head as if to listen closer, her eyes shone bright with pain. Blood bubbled on her lips as she tried to bargain back her life. "There's always monsters in the world, girl. Lešak, me, the world is full of monsters, and you… you're one of us."
Lacey stood before the witch, bathed in equal shadow and light. All her life, she had lied. Sometimes, she had cheated. She had manipulated, bribed, and seduced in another lifetime without any hint of guilt or concerns of morality. And here, in this nightmare, she had gotten people killed. She had never said she was anything less than who she was, but in this place, in this upside down world, she didn't even know who that was anymore. All she knew was she wanted to see tomorrow badly enough to kill to ensure it. If that made her a monster, so be it.
"Maybe," Lacey whispered. "But I'm not like you." Then, in a move her tae bo instructor would have been proud of, Lacey drew her elbows to her chest and lashed out her right leg, catching the witch right below her stomach.
The witch instinctively reached out, hands entangling in the long dirty fabric of Lacey's dress. Collapsing backwards, the witch shrieked and tightened her grip as she felt the heat of the fire, pulling Lacey down with her. Lacey grasped for the mantle, catching it just as the witch tumbled into the flames.
At the first scream, the hands entangling her skirts freed themselves as they waved frantically for purchase. Lacey pushed herself backwards, falling onto her ass as she scurried away from the sparks and screams. Toys bumped and rolled as she crawled backwards until her hand hit something hard and metallic. She grasped the forgotten poker stick like an anchor as she watched the figure burn, white skin bubbling and cracking as the fire she had built to feed her instead consumed her.
"See you in hell," Lacey murmured, wiping the black blood off her hands and onto her skirts. She glanced around, at the toys littering the floors and the bones she knew were hiding in the nooks and corners and shuddered. She hoped the whole place burned.
Dropping the stick on her way to the door, she double checked to make sure the hard won lock of hair was still in her pocket. Her clothes smelled of fire, her throat was raw and she was now covered in black witch's blood. She hoped the Imp was waiting to take her home because she was ready for a bath. A real one with magical hot water, never ending tea and a pillow. Nothing sweet though. Chocolate, Lacey found, was no longer as comforting as it had once been.
As she stepped outside, she found the children gone and no magical lizard waiting for her. Sighing, she moved towards the main path. He'd show eventually, Lacey figured. After all, she did have the spell ingredient he had requested. No deals had been made pertaining to her time or energy.
Pausing, Lacey frowned, turning and looking back at the gingerbread cottage. She was still on the property, but the house already looked darker, smaller as if it was shrinking in on itself. She wondered if she should stay here. Surely it would be the first place he would look for her?
Or he might assume she would return to the mill with the children.
Lacey groaned, turning back to the main path. She doubted Hansel or Gretel would take kindly to her following them, but they had enough of a head start. She would simply follow the trail back and then hide out in the woods of the glen.
That was the plan at least, until Lacey heard the quiet whisperings from just off the path.
"Kids?" she called out, moving towards the sound. "What are you two doing?"
"Don't hurt us!" Hansel wailed, popping up from behind a bush. "We just want to go home!"
Lacey sighed, motioning him over. "I'm not going to hurt you two," she assured them.
"You're lying," Gretel said, appearing beside her brother. "We heard you-"
"Lying to save your lives?" Lacey finished for her, crossing her arms. The children did not move from the bushes, staring her down. She knew if she took a step forward, they would flee into the forest and she did not trust their safety in the darkness.
"Look," she said, motioning at herself. "I'm covered in blood, bruised and beaten and I want nothing more than to go home."
"Then go," Gretel said hotly. Lacey was taken aback at the vehemence. "We don't need you."
"Fine," Lacey grumbled. She had done her part. If they got killed out here in the woods, it was not her fault. Not if they refused her help. Her conscience was clear. "Get eaten by wild bears, see if I care."
Still, she listened to the muttering between them as she turned away. She walked slowly, straining to hear. Gretel's high pitched arguments were angry and short while Hansel spoke softly, his voice questioning. Just when Lacey reached the first bend, she heard branches rustling as the siblings came onto the path.
She did not pause, but kept walking. As dark as it was, the twin moons illuminated the path decently in this area, and she could see here and there a faint crumb from their earlier trip to the witch's house.
She did not comment when she felt them come up behind her. She simply walked on, as if nothing was wrong. They went this way for a while, the trio half dead from exhaustion, but too wound up to sleep. Near death was something Lacey had grown familiar with, but the children, young as they were, seemed to be dealing with their first brush with death as best as could be expected. Unbidden, Lacey thought their father would be proud of them and then brushed the thought away. When they were reunited with their father, she would have to be long gone or Koby would show her the business end of his ax.
After a while, Lacey noticed she hadn't seen a crumb in a while. She paused, looking behind her to see the two children, half asleep on their feet, clutching each other's arms to stay upright. Gretel, too tired to remember she wasn't speaking to her, blinked up at her. "What?" she slurred as a yawn cracked her jaw.
"Nothing," Lacey mumbled. "Let's keep moving. We're almost there."
It was a lie. But it was a well meaning one, so she hoped. As they made their way further and further into the night, Lacey began to doubt herself but did not dare stop for fear of what would happen if they closed their eyes out here.
Lacey was not sure how long they had been walking when she heard the children stop. Turning, she found Gretel staring into the trees, Hansel asleep on his feet. "Just a little bit further," Lacey murmured, wiping sleep out of her eyes. "We've got to keep going."
"That's the border marker," Gretel said, pointing at something. "One more step and we'll be in the First Kingdom."
"What?" Lacey asked, moving back towards them. Hansel jerked awake, blinking in alarm as he found Lacey right beside him. Peering into the darkness where Gretel was staring, she saw the tree in question. It was small and slender, with silver leaves that gleamed white in the moonlight. The trunk was pale blue, half hidden in the shadows. Lacey wondered how the girl had even see it.
"Okay, so what does that mean?"
"It means," came an amused voice from behind them. "You're in violation of the Two Kings' Decree."
Emerging from the darkness of the forest, Lacey and the children found themselves suddenly surrounded by shadowy figures. The figure who had spoken stepped forward, his poncho hood pulled low over his face so his mouth was the only thing visible in the darkness. He held a bow and arrow loosely at his side, non-threateningly but a warning all the same.
The children moved closer to her. Better the enemy they knew, Lacey figured, putting her arms around them. "We're lost," Lacey confessed, keeping an eye on a huge figure lurking to her right. It held a tree limb as a staff and stood well within striking distance. "Obviously, we took the wrong turn. Sorry for the confusion, if you could just-"
"Oh no," the hooded figure laughed, stepping towards her. "You're coming with us."
"And who are you?" Hansel demanded from under Lacey's right arm.
Hushing him with a firm squeeze of his shoulder, Lacey nodded. "Kid's got a point," she said with a shrug of her shoulders.
A second later, every figure was aiming a weapon of some kind at them. Lacey saw clubs, bows and even an ax. The staff-wielding mountain had stepped a half inch closer, and his shoulders were tensed as if simply awaiting a signal.
The hooded figure simply laughed. "Where are my manners?" he asked himself. He bowed low, sweeping his arm out underneath him. When he straightened, he tugged the hood off his head, revealing a man with piercing brown eyes, a roguish grin and prominent cheekbones. He was a complete fox.
"They call me Robin Hood," he said jocularly. "And these ruffians make up my merry men." The group slowly lowered their weapons, a few even stepping out of the shadows to get a better look at them. "We should get going before the sun rises. We have to be well away before the patrol comes."
"We'll just go back," Lacey offered. She leaned towards him invitingly as she smiled over the children's heads. "I just need to get these to back home-"
"Robin!" someone called out from the treetops above them. "Patrol is coming!"
Robin nodded, turning apologetically. "Afraid I can't leave you here for the patrol to find. The Sheriff of Nottingham is not a man you want to find you in the woods alone. There's a home just on the edge of the woods, there's a place to sleep and eat."
"Food?" Hansel piped up, looking hopeful. At his side, Gretel yawned, her jaw stretching wide. Robin smiled down at her. "Little John?"
The mountain to their right stepped forward revealing a pleasant looking man with gray shaggy hair with feathers woven throughout smiling down at them like a young Father Christmas. "Hello," he greeted Gretel, bending down to her level. "Care for a lift?"
The innate judge of character that children possessed astonished Lacey. Despite the trauma from earlier, the little girl lifted her hands to be picked up and was swung into the waiting arms of the giant.
Deciding to trust this group, odd as they were, Lacey turned back to Robin with a nod. "Let's get going," she said. Robin glanced down at the boy beside her, taking in the tired slump of his shoulders and red eyes. Hansel straightened, shooting daggers at Robin Hood in case he dared suggest he wasn't man enough to walk.
"Very well," Robin laughed. "Follow me."
And with that folks, we are in the First Kingdom!
I've hope you enjoyed Lacey's little adventure in the Second Kingdom and her triumph over the Blind Witch. Next chapter, we'll meet another new face. Any guesses?
On a small side note, thank you to anyone who takes the time to review. This story is such a huge undertaking that is very easy for me to get discouraged and want to give up on it. Sadly for me, it's my favorite project, and I find myself unable to do so. If you enjoy The Gate, please, please leave me a review and let me know. I appreciate every single one.
As far as updates, I have the next 9 chapters written, just waiting to be beta edited. I will hopefully be able to post weekly for the next few months depending on my lovely beta's schedule which due to the holidays is a bit busy at the moment. She does such a great job though, don't you agree?
Mood board for this chapter can be found here: post/134352225432/mood-board-for-the-gate-chapter-21