Violet moaned. Her head was throbbing painfully. She needed to get up and make some tea to take the edge off the pain, but when she shifted, her stomach lurched alarmingly, and bile rose in her throat. She swallowed back the stinging bitterness and stilled. Slowly opening her eyes, blinking rapidly as the low light of the room stabbed through her brain like an ice pick, she frowned. This was all wrong.

She was laying on a dirty rug, staring under a bed. Three large rats stared back at her from within its shadows. Moving just her eyes to prevent her stomach from revolting, she looked around. Two feet away from her and the bed was a metal tub big enough to bathe in. Its sides were covered with dark grime and rust.

Two feet stepped into her view, the hem of a bright orange skirt skimming the tops of the sturdy shoes.

"Ah, good," Ima said. "You're awake."

"Ima," she croaked, her mouth dry and gritty. "I think I'm going to be sick."

"Yes, that's an unfortunate side effect of such a large dose of valerian," Ima said with little sympathy. "But don't worry, it'll wear off soon."

Ima moved out of her line of sight and started doing something behind her. Deciding to take a chance and sit up, Violet tried to push herself up into a sitting position. Only her arms wouldn't move. Frowning with confusion, she tried again. Something held them behind her tightly. Was she tied up? With her pounding headache, she was having trouble thinking.

"Ima?"

"I know, you're confused," the woman answered with a chuckle. "Another one of the side effects of Valerian. Once it's all out of your system, you'll feel better."

Violet felt Ima grab her arms and lift her into a sitting position against the end of the bed. Her stomach lurched and this time she couldn't stop it; she vomited down the front of her dress and apron. The hot mess soak through the material and dribbled off onto the floor.

"Oh, dear," Ima tutted. "I moved you too soon."

Closing her eyes against the pain in her head and the nausea, Violet tried to organize her thoughts. She remembered drinking tea with Ima.

"The tea," she said weakly.

"Oh, good, you're starting to come out of it. Here," the cool metal rim of a cup pressed against her lips. "Take a drink, it'll help."

The cup tipped up and dribble cool liquid down her chin. Taking a drink as ordered, the water helped wash some of the nasty taste from her mouth and sooth the burning of her throat. Opening her eyes again, Violet saw that her feet were also bound. Beyond them several rats watched her intently. She jerked her feet away from them.

"Don't worry, dear," Ima came back into view, "they won't hurt you. They know they have to wait their turn."

"What's going on?" she asked a little more alertly. She couldn't remember anything after having tea. "You drugged me?"

"Of course. Nobody's ever offered themselves up willingly. That would just take all the fun out of it."

She was starting to feel a little less nauseous, though her head was still pounding. Looking around the room, she saw she didn't recognize it. It must have been one of the rooms Ima kept locked.

Ima watched her with bright eyes, "this was me and Ennis's room. Now just Ennis sleeps here."

That didn't make sense. Ennis was dead, wasn't he? Violet twisted to look at the bed behind her, catching a glimpse of a bony foot covered by shriveled flesh that looked like it had been gnawed on by rats. She jerked away from the bed, losing her balance, and falling over. From her new angle, she could see the space between the bed and the wall.

She frowned, not being able to make sense of what she was seeing at first. At first, she could only see the details. Gray fabric draped over a mound. Three skeletal hands. A braid of coarse brown hair lying beside a blonde curl. A desiccated face staring at her from the bottom of the mound, its eyes missing, and the lips eaten off so that the teeth and gums were revealed.

Violet gasped as she realized the mound was the stacked bodies of at least three women, all wearing the same gray dress she was. She wasn't the first.

"You killed them," she whispered hoarsly, "for their blood. For your fertilizer."

"You're smarter than I gave you credit for," Ima said from behind her. "But some of it goes into my jelly. It's the secret ingredient."

"The blood in the cellar isn't enough?"

"It is for fertilizer, but for my jelly it has to be fresh from the source."

The woman crouched in front of her and grasped her by the chin to lift her face, "yes, I think the valerian is just about out of your system." She dropped Violet's chin and patted her on the shoulder as she stood.

Ima grabbed Violet's bound feet and dragged her across the carpet so that she lay beside the tub. A rope was hanging from a large hook anchored in the ceiling and its ends coiled in the tub.

"I need a few more things before we can get started. Stay here," she giggled, "I'll be right back."

As Ima's steps receded, Violet rolled over so she could look around the room better. The rats crept closer, their noses twitching as they sniffed the air.

"Shoo! Get back," she hissed at them, shrinking back against the tub.

They ignored her, creeping closer. Violet swallowed her panic, knowing that she needed to keep her wits about her if she didn't want to end up like the poor women stacked up like logs against the wall. She didn't know how much time she had before Ima returned, but she needed to do something before then.

The room she was in was a lot bigger than the one she was using. The bed was large and faced the door. The wall she was facing had a large window that looked out over the garden and a dresser with an oval mirror. Three decorative boxes sat on top of the dresser, looking like masculine versions of jewelry boxes. What kind of jewelry would a blacksmith wear? She could barely make out a brush, but that was all.

Refusing to look at the bed and its gruesome occupant, she rolled to her other side, but the tub blocked her view of that side of the room. There didn't appear to be anything in the room she could use to free herself. It made sense, she thought. Ima had done this multiple times before; she had probably removed anything that could be used from the room long ago. Now would be a good time for her new-found magic abilities to come to her rescue.

She searched her memory for the Gaelic word or phrase for untie, but the best she could come up with was 'undo tie'. She wished she had been a better student when her grandmother was trying to teach her the language. Since it was the intent that mattered, or at least she hoped, the exact phrasing shouldn't matter. She was going to have to get her hands on some paper and ink soon to write down all these new incantations she'd been creating.

Hearing a door close on the other side of the house, she realized she needed to hurry.

"Blessed goddess if there was ever a time I needed your grace, it's now." Trying to ignore the encroaching rats, she pictured her hands tied behind her back and said her new spell, "èist dèan às ceangail."

She didn't realize she was holding her breath until her diaphragm spasmed expelling the air in her lungs. She tried to move her arms, but they were still bound tightly behind her. Her spell had failed.

"Now what?" she asked out loud.

Another door opened and closed. She was running out of time.

Maybe she had to see the knot to be able to untie it, she thought. Testing how tightly her arms were bound, she realized she had a bit of wiggle room. If she could just her hands in front of her, maybe she could try the spell again or, if that failed, use her teeth to try to untie it.

With a lot of contorting and grunting, Violet pulled her hands down as far as she could and wiggled her butt and hips through them followed by her legs. She struggled a bit with her feet and managed to pull one of her shoes off and scrape the inside of her left arm badly with the other, but she finally pulled them through and had her hands in front of her.

Holding up her hands, she realized why her spell hadn't worked. She pictured a normal knot, but Ima had used an intricate wrapping technique instead with just the tail tucked into the loops to hold it in place. Using her teeth, Violet tugged on the end only to find that she had pulled it tight during her maneuvering to get her hands in front of her body. She stood a better chance of pulling one of her teeth out with it than freeing it. Perhaps, she could use a different word, she thought, like release or free.

The only problem was that she couldn't think of the words in Gaelic.

She heard Ima coming down the hall and renewed her efforts to pull the end free with her teeth.

Ima stopped in the door and cocked her head. "You'll be a long time at that," she said with a slight smile, not seeming concerned at all.

Ignoring Violet, she crossed to the dresser and set down the items in her hands: a black bowl with symbols etched on its sides and a small knife no longer than her smallest finger. Turning back to Violet who was frantically tearing at the knot, her gums bleeding from the course rope, she walked over and grabbed the rope from the tub.

"I've had two of my girls do that and one of them got free," she said conversationally. "She put up quite the fight before I got her back under control. Made me revise the knot I used. You see," she said, moving to stand over Violet's feet, "the loop you're pulling at isn't really the end. All you're doing is pulling it tighter. The real end is on the other side, where you can't get to it. Unless you break your wrists."

Ima bent down to loop the rope through the bindings on Violet's feet. Not wanting to go easily, she kicked violently and twisted her body away, in the process knocking Ima back. The woman windmilled her arms to keep her balance and stay on her feet. Violet flipped over onto her stomach and wormed her way to the bed, attempting to crawl under it.

"Oh, no you don't."

Ima grabbed her by the feet and hauled her back to the center of the room. Both women were breathing hard and glaring at each other. Violet realized that she didn't stand a chance as long at her hands and feet were bound.

Ima stretched to reach the rope again, still holding on to Violet's feet and rolling her body sideways. Violet felt something slide out of her apron pocket. She had forgotten about the pendant! Grasping it quickly before Ima could see it, she clutched it between both her hands. The calming pulse she had become accustomed to throbbed against her palms and the warmth flowed from the orb into her limbs. Instantly, she felt more clear-headed and focused.

As Ima threaded the rope between her feet, she sat up as far as she could with her feet held up and thrust her hands at the woman.

"Èist tàirneanach tunn!" she yelled the words before she realized her intention.

A thunderous boom shook the house and a pulse of power shot out in all directions, throwing furniture, rats, and Ima against the walls of the room. Ima may have been okay if the heavy metal tub hadn't been flung the same direction. There was a thud as Ima's head hit the wall followed by another, hollow metallic thud as the edge collided with her skull. Violet watched as the tub rolled away and the woman's lifeless body slid down the wall, leaving a smear of blood in its wake.

Looking around the room, Violet saw that most of the rats were lying motionless by the baseboards, with just a few twitching or jerking. Only the largest of the rats was still on its feet, staring at her, but it was wobbly on its feet. The moment Violet moved, it squeaked with alarm and scurried out the door, disappearing down the hall.

Violet, however, couldn't follow. She was still thoroughly tied up. She rolled over onto her stomach and pushed herself up onto her knees. She looked at the dresser where Ima had laid the knife, but it wasn't in sight. Somehow, she needed to get to the kitchen so she could find a knife and cut herself free. Using her hands to drag her body along the dirty floor, she started the laborious process of crawling out of the room.

"Are ye alright, girl?"

Violet yelped and twisted towards the voice.

A man was standing just outside the bedroom window staring in at her in alarm. The window had been blown out by either the wave of power or the boom.

"Hold on. I'll be right there," the man said.

He disappeared into the night. In the darkness beyond, pale faces peered at her through the hole. One of them stepped forward into the light from the room; an older woman with a worried look on her face.

"Who are ye?" she asked.

Before Violet could answer, the delivery boy's face appeared barely above the sill, "that's Missus Ima's new maid, Violet."

The woman frowned and the crowd behind her murmured.

"…needed a maid?"

"…blood on her mouth…,"

"…furniture…,"

"…roses…,"

The house rattled once again as a door was battered until it gave way. Male voices drifted to her followed by heavy steps coming down the hall.

"She's in here!" the boy called from the window.

"Shush," the woman waved him away.

A tall, gangly man ducked under the door frame and entered the room. His eye grew wide as he took in the dead rats, the bodies, and Ima slumped against the wall.

"By all the gods," he said with a tremor in his voice, "what happened here?"

"I'll be happy to tell you everything," Violet told him, holding out her bound hands, "but my hands are losing feeling. Can you please untie me?"

Two other men followed him into the room, looking around incredulously. More steps sounded in the hall behind them. All three stood transfixed just inside the door, not moving to help Violet until a small woman pushed her way into the room and started giving orders. In short order, the ropes around her wrists and ankles were cut and she was helped to her feet. It took a few moments before she could walk once the circulation was restored to her feet and she followed the little woman out of the room and to the kitchen. The rest of the group followed.

"What is that smell?" one of the men asked once they were all gathered around the table.

"It's Ima's rose jelly," Violet told him.

"It smells like death," he replied. Several others nodded their heads in agreement.

"I don't understand," she said, confused. "Ima said her jelly was famous and she sold out every year with the first day."

"Not to any of us," the woman, Alvina, told her. "We always wondered what she shipped out of here with that odd tinker."

The others murmured their agreement.

"He only came through once a year around this time. Ima always said she sent whatever young woman was living here at the time off with him. I can see now that they never left this house."

"How many women have there been," Violet asked, afraid to know the answer.

"Oh, I don't rightly know. Maybe ten or so since Ennis passed away fifteen years ago."

Violet shuddered, there were only three bodies of women in that room. Where were the rest?

"How can ten young women just disappear, and you never suspected anything?" she asked.

"Well now, Lass," the tall man, Alvina's husband Tyne, answered. "They wasn't from around here. They just wander up from time to time like strays and Ima would take them in. When she said she sent them off to Highmoon, we never thought twice about it."

It made sense, Violet thought, but it was still sad to know that ten people were dead, and nobody had mourned them.

Alvina reached over and patted her hand, "now, dear, can ye tell us what happened?"

Violet spent the next hour telling them everything that happened since she came to Ima's door up until they showed up. She, of course left out the parts about the fae and her magic spells. She was vague about the event that killed Ima and disrupted the village saying only that she fought back and must have disrupted Ima's ritual or something. Alvina raised her eyebrow at the explanation but kept silent.

Tyne led a search of the house while Alvina ushered Violet outside and to her house, barely allowing time for Violet to gather her belongings from the bedroom. Tyne and Alvina's home was much smaller and far less grand than Ima's, but it was clean and cozy. Most importantly, it was free of rats and didn't smell of roses.

Together, they sipped tea from chipped mugs while they waited for Tyne to return and Alvina told Violet about Ima and Ennis. Ima had grown up on a small farm close to town and had been best friends with Etta until they got old enough to start noticing the boys. Etta caught the eye of the blacksmith's only son, Ennis, at one of the harvest festivals and Ima went crazy with jealousy. The blacksmith's family was the most well-off in the small village.

"Ima started going around saying that Etta had stolen Ennis from her and spreading other foul rumors about the couple," Alvina shook her head sadly. "I don't know how, but Ennis's mother believed the rumors and put an end to the budding romance. The next thing we knew, Ima was handfasted to Ennis and Etta had married Hamish."

"Poor Etta," Violet gasped. "But I'm certain they loved each other. Maybe not at first, but when I was with them, it was obvious."

"Well, Etta was better off with Hamish even if they was poor as dirt. Ennis's mother, Hella, was a piece of work," Alvina rolled her eyes. "Always putting on airs and acting like she was better than the rest of us. And that awful jelly!" she fanned her face. "Nobody ever bought it again after the first time. It wasn't fit to feed the pigs!" she sniffed.

"So, when she told me it was an old family recipe, she meant Ennis's family, not hers?"

"Oh, gods, yes," the woman snorted. "Her mother and grandmother had better sense. I don't know what happened with that girl. Maybe she was a changeling," she shrugged.

"That's the second time I've heard changelings mentioned. Is that a common occurrence here?"

"Nay, child," Alvina set down her cup. "Pay no attention to my rambling. Ima was just plain evil."

Violet choked back the urge to correct the woman. They were probably the same age. But then she would have to explain how she was sixty-five and looked barely out of her twenties. Instead, she nodded, "I can agree with that."

"Anyhow, shortly after they was married, Ima and Ennis, that is, his poor sister, Hazel, ran off. Her and Ima didn't get along at all. Always arguing and fussing, those two."

"Do you think she really ran off?" Violet asked. "Or do you think…?" she let the question hang in the air between them.

"Tis possible. Although how Ima could of pulled it off under the noses of the entire family is beyond my keen."

The two women were silent as they considered the fate of Hazel.

"After that," Alvina continued after a moment, "old Bernald, Ennis's father, died the next year."

"That's a missing woman and a death in two years," Violet pointed out.

"Hum, I suppose it was." Alvina stared up at the ceiling and sighed, "I seem to remember that a traveling tinker began to come through and pick up crates of jelly from Ima and Hella around that time."

Before Alvina could continue her musings, the door rattled open and Tyne came in, followed by two men that made Violet gasp. Just a bit shorter than Tyne, who was well over six feet tall, they were slender almost to the point of being delicate. Both wore their long, silvery blonde hair pulled back into intricate braids. Their green eyes shone brightly even in the dim candlelight and bored through Violet as they fixed their gazes on her. Ethereally beautiful to behold, it was their ears that made her gasp and bring her hand up to grasp her throat. Bared by the braids the men wore, their ears swept up and ended in gracefully pointed tips.

Tyne introduced them as Tamival and Tamirell Nightwind.

Remembering Etta telling her about the inhabitants of the Dale Lands, she blurted, "oh, goddess, you're elves!"

The two, who looked alike enough to be twins, exchanged a knowing look as if they were used to this kind of reaction.

"And you are the one who killed the foul witch growing the blood roses?" the one on the right, Tamirell, asked, ignoring her outburst.

"No," she corrected immediately, "as I told everyone, something must have gone wrong with her ritual or something."

The two exchanged looks again.

"Indeed," Tamival said with a raised eyebrow, "a skilled witch that managed to hide her true nature and kill over a dozen people over the last ten years must have made a catastrophic mistake that cost her life."

"Not everyone is perfect," Violet argued. "Eventually, even the most skilled individual can make a mistake." She raised her chin and challenged him to refute her.

There was that shared look, then the pair turned to Tyne in apparent dismissal of Violet.

"We would advise burning the entire building and garden to the ground," Tamirell said. "Once the fires abate, test the soil in the garden. If there is still a trace of blood, build another pyre over the area."

"Do not stop until all the blood is destroyed," his brother added.

"What about the contents of the house?" Alvina asked.

"What about it?"

"There's a lot of stuff, furniture, clothing, and whatnot in there. We're poor folk in this village. It would be a shame to burn it all with the house."

The pair exchanged a few words in a language Violet couldn't understand before turning their attention back to Alvina.

"Don't take anything tainted by the blood or roses," Tamirell told her.

"Good," Alvina nodded. "I'll get the women of the village together first thing in the morning and we'll divvy up everything amongst us."

"Very well," Tamival nodded, then turned to Tyne, "we bid you farewell, then. May Mielikki watch over you."

Tyne bowed awkwardly, "Thank ye for coming to our aid and sharing your knowledge of this."

Without any further words, the pair left.

"Those were elves," Violet clasped her hands together in delight. "I just met real, live elves."

"Child," Tyne looked at her askance, "you're not from the Dales if you've never met an elf."

"No, I'm not from here," she said a little sadly, her delight at the encounter withering.

Alvina reached over and patted her hand, "don't worry. Now that you're free of Ima, you'll be home in no time."

Violet sighed. If only it was that easy.