Gretel let out a soft sigh, reveling in the soft comfort that surrounded her. She nuzzled her face deeper into the pillow unwilling to forfeit the warm embrace of the blanket for the roughness of day. Any inn was better than a night spent on hard ground in the open night air, but it was a rare thing for the siblings to find an inn with this nice of a bed. Whatever evil thing brought them to such a nice accommodation could surely wait ten more minutes; it would be the least she could do in exchange for this rare luxury, after all, it didn't sound like Hansel was chomping at the bit to get going.

Hansel…

Gretel shot up in bed fighting the tangle of blankets. Her heart pounding wildly as the memories from before she passed out ripped and tore her former calm to shreds. They had been making their way up the mountain when the Lamiae attacked again. The pair had been over powered, Hansel's hand torn away from hers and…

The young hunter looked around the unfamiliar surroundings, praying for some sign of her brother. The small room only contained a bed, a side table and a dimly glowing oil lamp. A spike of fear pierced her heart as her world crumbled beneath her.

She blinked in surprise as he bare feet hit the floor. Taking stalk of herself, she realized, not only were her boots gone, but so were her clothes, replaced with a large grey shirt that was long enough to fit like a dress. Humility and anger ran through her at the thought of someone bold enough to disrobe her and the face that she had not woken for a moment of it. Like Hansel, her things were not in the confines of the room.

Quietly she slipped out of bed, ignoring the goose bumps that prickled her legs at the sudden loss of warmth. Slowly she crept towards the door, nervousness making her rigid. Gretel had no idea what was beyond the door and worse yet, she'd have to face it without any weapons.

Her hand cautiously wrapped around the door knob, turning it ever so slowly. To her surprise, it clicked open. Was it over confidence or stupidity that led the enemy to such and oversight of leaving it unlocked or was it perhaps a sign of a potential ally dwelling within these walls?

Gretel slipped through the crack in the door the moment it was large enough, her senses heightened as she slid along the wall. The hall was dark except for a faint glow from the room at the end. She bit her lip; she needed to find Hansel but she also needed to know what she was up against.

Pushing herself forward, Gretel stuck to the shadows. She peeked around the corner to the room with the light. It was a well sized living area with a large fireplace in the center of the opposite wall. The large flames danced within, painting the room in a pleasant glow while licking the edges of the pot hanging over the fire. Puttering around was the man in the cloak. He moved easily from the fire, to the book propped open on the table, to the shelves of jars and back again in an endless loop.

Gretel watched for a few moments, waiting for the right moment to scurry into the room and duck behind the row of bookshelves near the end of the room. As he made his move towards the jars to retrieve another and add the contents to the pot on the fire, she made her move too.

"It's rude to lurk in shadows," stated the man without looking pausing in his task nor looking at Gretel. Part of her wanted to stay where she was. Maybe there was a chance he hadn't seen her, that this was some kind of trick to get her to reveal herself? That thought was quickly rendered useless as the mysterious man curled his hand with a flick of the wrist, causing the candles in the corner to cough and sputter to life while a chair slid out from the table.

The man starred at the chair expectantly. There was no point in trying to pretend, Gretel was out matched at the moment. The man practiced magic with an ease that put most of the witches they had met to shame and she wasn't exactly on her A game physically or mentally at the moment.

With as much fake bravado as she could muster, Gretel stood up and walked boldly to the table. She would show no fear in the face of his intense stare, even if it all reminded her too much of a house made of candy nestled in the woods and their captivity there. The hunter sat down, tense and full of nerves.

Silently the man picked up a bowl from the side, blowing in it and rubbing at it with the corner of his shirt before filling it with the contents boiling over the fire. Gretel flinched at the sharp clunk as he not so gently placed the bowl and spoon down in front of her.

"Eat." There was no room for argument as he moved back to his book. It wasn't said sharply enough to be an order but not gently enough to be a suggestion. Instinctively her hand wrapped around the spoon and she hated herself for it; she wasn't that small girl anymore. She didn't have to take orders from anyone, especially one that was probably going to kill her.

"Where's Hansel?" she demanded, eyes cold as ice.

"Eat it or starve, but I assure you, it's much better warm," he rebutted.

In a display of childish petulance, Gretel swept her arm over the table, spilling the contents of the bowl and knocking the dishes to the floor. "Tell me where my brother is!"

The man was a blank slate. If Gretel had angered him, she couldn't tell. Keeping his eyes on her he moved back to the table and picked up the dishes from the floor. "What, were you raised by dogs?" he asked conversationally, and Gretel hated him more for it. "Most people are grateful for hospitality."

"Most people would answer the damn question."

"I don't know who Hansel is but I assume he's the man you were with." Gretel didn't reply, just sharpened her gaze. "He's in the other room."

The hunter's head snapped towards the closed door across the room.

"He's resting," informed the man with a little more force to his voice. "He was substantially more beat up than you."

"Is he going to be alright," she practically begged. Mentally she counted the number of steps it would take to get to her brother.

"I imagine not," he snorted, sitting down across from Gretel with a bowl of his own. Hear head twisted back in the man's direction as cold panic began to set in. It was tempered only by the heat of her rage that the stranger could stuff his face while her world threatened to collapse.

"The Lamiae are after your brother; he's never going to be alright again," he elaborated, "but I suppose that's why you decided to come here and darkened my door."

"But he's not severely injured?"

"No."

Gretel's shoulders slumped in relief. As long as Hansel was alive there was hope. "We were told you could fix this."

"Well you were misinformed," he answered. He snatched Gretel's empty bowl before leaning back in his chair so it balanced precariously on two legs and filled the bowl once more.

"But you practice magic." Frustration began to build again as the man rolled his eyes dismissively. "Don't pretend you don't. I can see the signs." A thin black line curled across the young man's face. As far as disfiguration from the dark arts went, the mark could be considered beautiful but it was still the sign of powers used.

"Doesn't mean I can help you." Pushing the now full bowl a little closer to Gretel he stated, "Eat. You're no good to him half dead."

This had been their last hope, the thing she had dragged Hansel half way across the county for. This was what she used to push her brother to take one more step and like everything else in life it was riddled with disappointment. Failing to keep the venom out of her voice she snapped, "What do you care?"

"It's inconvenient having to remove dead bodies from my house," he retorted with something reminiscent of the banter Hansel often plagued her with.

"Are you threatening us?"

"You'll know when I'm threatening you." He locked eyes with Gretel. "For someone needing my help, you're certainly hostile. A little appreciation would go a long way."

"For?"

"Saving you and your brother from our friends back there for starters."

The hard edge of Gretel's voice softened as she mumbled, "Thanks." Her index finger tapped against the spoon on the table gently. "I don't even know your name."

"Kaspar," he answered before turning his attention back to his soup.

She needed to know for sure that this wasn't some weird coincidence, that they had found who they were looking for but what if he really couldn't help? She needed a way to save her brother. "And you are the male witch from the stories?"

A small smirk played on Kaspar's lips. "The one and only."

"Not anymore," corrected Gretel.

"A situation that usually corrects itself in time."

"Are you trying to tell me that there's no hope?"

"I guess that depends on you."

"Is that some sort of proposition, because if you like certain appendages where they are, you'd be wise to cease your advances," she warned. There was something so infuriating about the man across the table from her but she wasn't in a position to alienate him for fear of retribution.

Kaspar choke on his mouthful of soup. "As thrilling as a romp with you in the hay would be, I'm not interested." His nervous laugh caused the threatening silence to disappear.

Hansel and Gretel had made it a point to never need anyone in their lives. Everyone had proven they couldn't be counted on except one another except they needed someone now. She didn't know where she stood with this strange witch but she needed the kindness of a stranger now, she need him to be able to help.

"I should go check on Hansel." Slowly she got up from the table.

"Take him a bowl of broth and if he's awake see if he can keep it down. If not, let him rest and do the same. You're both going to need it," he instructed with what sounded like genuine concern.

Gretel spun around to face Kaspar, he hands clenching into fists. "Is this some sort of game to you?" One minute there was concern out of her companion then next she was regarded with indifference or humor. It was too much for her to try and balance right now.

"It does get lonely here, and I do have to make my own entertainment but if you must know, it's not a question of if I want to help you but rather if your brother wants help."

That knocked the wind out of Gretel. Hansel was as stubborn as a mule, forcing Gretel to make him do things for his own good. Here they were on the edge of possible help and it was going to come down to Hansel's desire for it. Normally there wouldn't be a question in her mind that he would dig in and do whatever it took, especially if it was for her. But lately he had been dragging, brought along by Gretel's determination alone.

"We can discuss this more when he's on his feet and know what he wants because I can tell you it won't be easy. Until then, you're free to help yourself to anything you find but word of the wise, if you don't know what it is, I wouldn't touch it."

Gretel nodded before ducking into the safety of Hansel's room. She relaxed as she laid eyes on her brother asleep in the bed. He was pale and covered in cuts and bruises but he was still alive, still with her. She sat down next him and gripped his hand tightly trying not to think that perhaps she had just gotten in league with the devil.