Chapter Four

First Steps

Hans had no problem with Wulf. He had noticed the same things that I had - Lily's casual blows, her constant taunts, the way her eyes brimmed with contempt and Wulf's with grief and hate when his so-called mother looked at him. When I brought Hans his midday meal out in the field and told him everything about the shaggy-haired boy, the town boy merely shrugged and said, "It's your quest, Margaret. I don't even know where you want to go, although if you want to take my advice, I know someone who can help you."

Surprised, I looked at him. He knew someone who could help? I know it sounds ridiculous, but how many town boys who used to be woodcutters' sons knew someone wise to the locations of the four Winds and how to reach them? For the second time that day, I looked at my father's oldest assistant with new eyes.

"Who?" I asked.

"My grandmother. She lives in the forest, and she knows about magic. When she was young, she had to turn herself into a duck."

I stared at him incredulously.

"No, I swear. Magic runs in our family, the transformative kind."

Silence. I fidgeted for a few moments, but then I finally gave in.

"So what happened?" I demanded.

"It was a life and death situation, so she turned herself into a duck because there was nowhere to hide. It was how she met my grandfather. He'd been turned into a deer."

I have to say something about the kingdom of Kuetas. Hans' story might sound completely impossible, or at least highly improbable, but let me tell you something. Magic runs in the blood of a lot of the old families that have been here for generations, powerful magic. It's especially strong in country folk. Now, certain kinds of magic are incredibly common and simple, like my aunt's - she can boil water by whistling. If she whistles the right tune, the water tastes like apple cider. My grandfather taught her to whistle, but she learned to boil the water by herself. But sometimes, in the really ancient lines that have never gone into the city, there are those - usually women, and usually young women at that, though some men as well - with magic the likes of which is normally found in old legends. And this was the kind of magic that Hans was talking about: the ability to turn oneself into a duck, or nine innocent boys into swans. It was the kind of magic that Lily had.

"Your grandfather was a deer?"

"His step-mother cursed the four rivers in the woods near their house. He drank from one of them and turned into a deer. But my grandmother and my great-aunt broke the spell. They know a lot about magic, especially Grandmother Scarlet. She lives in the forest near here."

"How near?" I asked, because near to me was the edge of the meadow, and I knew that was not what Hans meant.

"Maybe half a day's walk from here if it's light. I know the way."

I looked at him, and he held my eyes. Never since the vanishing of my last brother had I journeyed beyond this meadow. I had nightmares of often getting lost in the woods at night and meeting some dark end, surrounded by pitch blackness and the thunderous beating of great wings. If Hans said he knew the way, it was up to me to trust in him. But I wasn't entirely sure that I could.

"I'll look after you, Margaret," he promised softly. "Don't worry."

All I could do was to nod and go back to the house to make sure all was ready for what the town boy was planning regarding getting the three of us away before we were missed.

* * *

Thunder hammered in my breast. A waterfall roared in my ears. Or was it only the pounding of my heart? I could hear my blood rushing through my ears. An almost mindless fear was like cold metal spreading across my tongue. All around me, I could feel the darkness of the oncoming twilight breathing against my ice cold skin. We were on the edge of the meadow against the wall of the trees. The sun had already sunk beneath the treetops. Barely breathing, I stared at the lengthening shadows between the trunks of the pines and firs.

"We've got to go while they're still on the other side of the forest," Hans said softly.

Wulf nodded his agreement. Nervousness screamed in every line of his body as he glanced over his shoulder for Lily the Witch. Blue eyes like ice, he stood waiting, eager to be off into the trees and under cover of night and bough.

But I couldn't move. Fear held me motionless.

"I'm scared," I gasped out, though I had sworn not to tell them. It was ridiculous. Nearly all of my life, my greatest wish had been for the freedom to go into the woods. But now that the chance was here, I could scarcely manage to twitch my fingers, much less take a step.

"Margaret-"

I could hear the first embers of hot anger in Hans' voice when Wulf took my hand in his grimy one. The feel of grit and dust against my skin was soothing. I had held this boy's hand many times when I was upset. My father called Wulf my brother, in the same way that he called Lily my mother. But while I hated Lily, I had always liked and felt safe with Wulf.

He is her son, a part of me whispered, and I told it to shut up. He was my friend. He would help me do this.

"One step, Marzipan. Close your eyes, and take one step."

With his soft, growling voice to hold my fear and his hand in mine, I took my first step across the threshold of the forest and into the darkness beneath the branches of the trees overhead. I opened my eyes, surrounded by darkness. A small cry jumped out of my mouth.

"It's all right," Wulf said earnestly. "Marzipan, relax. The dark can't hurt you. Give your eyes time to adjust."

I waited. One heartbeat, then two, then three. Four. Five, six, seven, eight, and then nine. One heartbeat for each of my nine brothers. And in the space of nine beats, I felt the moon- and starlight filter through the trees with the last dying rays of the sun, and I could see. Not clearly, of course, but well enough. With the return of my sight came the return of my calm. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Ready?" Hans asked.

"Yes."

"Come on," he replied. "This way.