Gretchen's uncle Klaus Hilmar entered the kitchen moments after the Grimms had left.

"Good morning, Gretchen!"

"Uncle Klaus! How was Berlin?" Gretchen gave her uncle a hug.

"Not bad, not bad at all. Busy, as always. The big city can't compare to the view here." He smiled, "I've got loads of things to carry in. I was wondering if you couldn't help me. I know Wednesdays are your days off, but..."

"I don't mind at all, Uncle."

"I saw Peter at the stables. He says we've got some high-profile guests staying here."

"Oh. Right." Gretchen busied herself scrubbing off the breakfast dishes.

"I was sure you'd be jumping with excitement, you having read their book and all."

"They're really not as great as people make them out to be, Uncle Klaus." Klaus Hilmar frowned. He glanced at the dishes, then back at his niece.

"Who were you eating with?" he asked, indicated the dishes.

"The high-profile guests you mentioned before."

"Well, that's something, right? Why the long face?" he put a large hand on Gretchen's shoulder.

"I found out why they came here. Uncle Klaus, they're here to finish off Balthazar." Klaus' face drained of color.

"Did you tell them...?"

"I told them everything I thought they should know. I told them about the lottery, the risk they were taking, all of it. I tried, Uncle Klaus, I tried very hard to keep them from doing it, but it hasn't done a bit of good. The mayor hired them here, probably to keep Natasha and Gertrude and Jenna from being selected." She was crying now. "If they fail...We're all doomed."

"Shh..." Klaus patted his niece on the back. "They won't find anything. Nobody ever has. They won't do any harm, you'll see. Nothing will change. They won't find anything, the lottery will take place and someone will be sacrificed."

"I mean, it's not as though I like to see people I know dying, year after year..."

"Of course you don't. Nobody does. It's just the way things are."

"So what are we going to do? About the brothers Grimm, I mean."

"Nothing. We will do nothing. They will stay here as long as they have to, and when they can't find Balthazar, they will leave." He looked at Gretchen, who gave a feeble smile. "Now how about helping me unload that cart?"

Though Peter was shocked when his cousin told him why their latest guests had come to town, he was still more amazed when he found out how she had treated them.

"I can't believe you'd talk to them that way!" he said, going down into the cellar with a crate full of hops.

"Well, believe it. I all but told them to bugger off."

"I wouldn't have thought you'd feel that way." Peter's voice echoed from below.

"What do you mean by that?" Gretchen frowned as she rolled out a barrel of flour.

"Well, from the way it looked last night, you and Jacob looked as though you were getting on quite well."

"It's not that at all, Peter. It's not that I don't like them...though I suppose I'm not that crazy about Wilhelm Grimm. But it's what they're doing that I don't like, Peter. The whole village is in jeopardy now just because of stupid Mayor Scheisskopf."

"His name's Weisskopf, Gretch," Peter came out of the cellar, "It's a wonder you haven't gotten into trouble yet, calling him that all the time. And besides, those guys won't do us any harm. Balthazar's near impossible to find, right? They know less than we do about him. How can they find something they know nothing about?"

"I suppose you're right."

"Of course I'm right, Gretch," Peter gave her a quick noogie. "Just enjoy their company while they're here, eh? Revel in the excitement of their celebrity status. Andwhile you're at it,put in a good word for the stories,would you? I wouldn't mind them looking at some of my stuff." Peter was an amateur writer, and he'd been wanting to get somebody besides Gretchen (who collaborated with her cousin on occasion) to look at his work.

"I'll see what I can do, Peter." Gretchen smiled at her cousin.

Gretchen spent the rest of the day relaxing. She tried hard to forget the events that had transpired that morning, and the lottery that would follow the next afternoon. When she told Jake and his brother that she wasn't afraid to be sacrificed, she hadn't been lying. Not entirely, anyway. As much as Gretchen did believe in fate, she was also human and the thought of her name being drawn from the lottery chest was a little scary. Every year she tended to get butterflies in her stomach. However, she knew that the odds were in her favor, and besides, it was for a good cause...wasn't it?

The Grimms arrived back from their preliminary expedition later that afternoon. They looked cold, hungry, and rather frustrated. Gretchen was eating a late lunch in the front of the tavern when they came in. She waved amiably. Jake looked at her strangely, but waved back. Will nodded. The two of them got drinks and sat at a table nearby. Gretchen continued eating for a moment, then got up and walked over to where they were sitting.

"Gentlemen, I've come to apologize," she said. The brothers looked stunned. "I was a little...less than hospitable this morning, and I am sorry for that. Would it be inappropriate for me to call a truce?" There was a long, awkward pause during which the two members of the offended party looked at each other, then back at Gretchen.

"Well...I don't see why not," Jake said. "Have a seat."

"Are you alright with this?" Gretchen asked Will. He didn't say anything, but nodded silently (and a little grudgingly, by the look of it.). "Excellent." Gretchen got her plate and sat down.

"So does this mean you'd be willing to help us now?" Will asked.

"No. I should have mentioned that the truce was conditional. I'll be nice to the two of you as long as we avoid the topic of why you're here."

"Then what's the point?"

"Good conversation and good service, gentlemen. I'm afraid that's all I'll have to offer.

"What sort of service?" This was followed by an impish grin.

"Look, if you're going to be tasteless, I could easily call this whole thing off." Gretchen shot Will a look that was just short of poisonous.

"Sorry." Will was still smirking. Gretchen deftly changed the subject.

"So how are you both enjoying our village?"

"It's pretty nice, as villages go," Jake stated. "But as we've traveled, I at least have found that there's not much difference between one town and another, besides maybe the geography or local legends."

"I see." Gretchen wasn't sure if she should be interested or insulted. "What about the people? Are they any different?"

"No," Will put in, "They're not. Everywhere we go it's always the same. Superstitious villagers, worried mayors, town drunks, they're all the same."

"Ah." This conversation wasn't going the way Gretchen had planned at all. "What about writers? Surely since the publication of the book you've had people pushing things on you?"

"Like you would not believe," Will stared into his tankard. "Jake doesn't mind it, but I can't stand it." He looked up, "You're not trying to push your stuff on us, are you?"

"Er, no...My cousin's, actually." Will brought his tankard down hard on the table.

"There it is! That's why you've decided to be nice to us all of a sudden, isn't it?"

"Look, he put me up to it, alright? I offered a truce out of the goodness of my own heart, and I thought I might do my cousin a little favor." She turned to Jake, "Is he always like this?"

"Not always, but he can be a bit...difficult sometimes. I wouldn't mind a read, though. That is, if you'd like me to."

"My cousin will be delighted, Jacob. The manuscript's up in his room. I'll go get it."

"Might I come with you?" he glanced back at Will, who looked a little surprised. "There'd be less noise," he added hastily.

"It's fine by me. Come on, then." The two of them headed up the stairs. Gretchen thought she noticed a slight spring in Jake's step as he followed her.

"Gretch!" Peter called from the bar, "Where are you going?"

"To your room, if that's alright. I'm going to show Herr Grimm the stories." Peter's face lit up.

"Thank you so much, sir," he said to Jake, "you have no idea how much this means to me."

"Don't mention it." Jake smiled.

Once upstairs, Gretchen reached into her pocket and pulled out a large ring of keys. After shuffling through them, she found the right one and unlocked the door.

"I'm sorry Peter's room is a bit of a mess," she said. "He's not the tidiest person around. I keep telling him he'll never be able to find anything in such a pigsty, but..."

"It's fine." Jake sat in a chair against the wall. "Where are the manuscripts?"

"I think he keeps them under his bed." Gretchen reached down, "Ah! Here they are." She pulled out a folder, stuffed to overflowing with papers, some loose, some tied together. "The ones tied together are finished." She handed Jake the folder and sat on Peter's bed, facing him.

"He certainly works a lot," Jake laughed as he pulled out bunch after bunch of finished stories. He flipped through one. "Are these illustrated?"

"Some of them are, yes. I did most of the drawing and some of the writing." Jake looked up.

"I couldn't very well let my cousin have all the fun now, could I?" she smiled.

"And what sort of story are you telling here?"

"It's mostly fairy-tale stuff. Peter started writing them when he began reading your book. You fellows have been something of an inspiration to him, to say the least. And," she added hastily, "I probably owe some of my ideas to you as well." Jake grinned appreciatively.

"It's always nice to hear that," he said, paging through one of the manuscripts. "Is this story about Balthazar?" he pointed to the pages. Gretchen looked over Jake's shoulder at Peter's story.

"Yes, that one is. Peter says that local things like that add originality."

"And what do you think?"

"I think...Well, I can't help but feel Peter writes stories like that as wishful thinking more than a creative idea. You see, that story's about somebody who vanquishes Balthazar. There are a couple others, but this one's the best."

"So you think Peter wrote this story because he wants Balthazar dead?"

"As does everyone else here," Gretchen said, "But I'm afraid we're all quite aware that such a thing would have to remain fiction."

"Because of the probability of failure," Jake put in.

"Yes, exactly. It's just as I told you before. Nobody knows anything about Balthazar other than our agreement with him. Without proper knowledge of your opponent, how can you fight?"

"But my brother and I have fought demons before. We know how to deal with them," Jake closed the manuscript. "It's not as if we have no knowledge of how to kill this thing."

"But the risk you'd be taking...It'd be not just your lives on the line, but everyone's."

"I've seen such stakes before, believe me."

"Well I haven't!" Gretchen raised her voice, "I'm not prepared to see everything I've ever known put on the line like this, Jacob! I'm sure there are plenty of others who would agree with me." Jacob was about to say something, but was interrupted by a knock at the door. Will poked his head in.

"Jacob, the mayor's steward is downstairs. He says Weisskopf would like a word with us." Jake nodded.

"Excuse me, Gretchen. We'll have to continue this discussion later." Gretchen nodded briskly as the brothers left, closing the door behind them.

As soon as she heard the door click shut, Gretchen stepped over to it and poked her head out slightly, to hear what Jake and Will were discussing as they approached the stairs.

"What was that all about?" Will asked.

"Nothing. She wanted me to look at her cousin's stories, and I was more than happy to oblige. That was all."

"It sounded like a little more than literary discussion to me."

"What exactly are you trying to imply here, bro?" Jake had stopped walking. Gretchen thought she saw Will glance in her direction, and she pulled her head a little further away from the door so he wouldn't suspect.

"Do you like her?" he asked Jake.

"What?"

"You heard me."

"Well, she seems nice enough I guess..."

"You mooncalf! Of all the people...How could you possibly like her?" Gretchen frowned. What on earth was Will talking about?

"What's wrong with her?" Jake asked defensively.

"She's nosy, obnoxious, stubborn..." Will counted off on his hand.

"Just because she doesn't think the sun shines out of your arse doesn't make her a bad person." Gretchen grinned from behind the door. Will stood there, glowering for a moment.

"Let's just go, shall we?" he huffed. "The steward's waiting." They went down the stairs and were gone.

A few minutes later, Gretchen herself went down the stairs. She stopped at the bar to talk with Peter.

"So?" he asked hopefully. "What did he think?"

"Of the stories?" Gretchen asked innocently.

"No, of the mess in my room. Of course the stories!" Peter took a dish towel and began rubbing out the inside of a tankard.

"I can't say, really, though I believe he was rather impressed."

"Did he say anything about the illustrations?"

"No, but he appeared to be intrigued."

"Intrigued and impressed, then?"

"As far as I could tell." Gretchen smiled at her cousin.

"This is great, Gretch! Wonderful! I can see it now: Peter Hilmar and Gretchen Mills, master storytelling team!" He spread his arms wide, a goofy grin on his face. Gretchen laughed at Peter's antics. They were stopped, however, by the loud toll of a bell from outside. All at once, everything got silent.

"You heard the bell, fellows!" Klaus Hilmar shouted at the tavern's clientele, "Town meeting in the square! Everyone out!" The place was quickly vacated. As she left, Gretchen wondered whether this would have anything to do with the brothers Grimm.