Greythorne (Bloodleaf 2)

After a moment, she began to move forward again, and we tiptoed to follow. “Did you hear anything?” Kellan asked nervously.

“No,” she said. “I just wanted you to be quiet.”

We settled into an annoyed silence, following her deeper and deeper into the woods.

It gave me an opportunity to examine her closer. I’d expected a woman to match the witch of the song—wrinkled and sallow, with red eyes and a wealth of oversize teeth—but this girl appeared to be my own age, if not younger, wearing a simple homespun dress in a long out-of-fashion style. Her hair was a tangled, wild cloud of deep sienna, with strips of leather and gold-dipped leaves braided into the plentiful waves. Her skin was tawny, with freckles sprinkled across her cheeks like stars. But it was her eyes that were the most stunning: a vivid array of ochres and umbers that gleamed like discs of polished tiger-eye.

She was fresh-turned earth and autumn leaves and caustic wind. I liked her.

“We’re here,” she announced.

“We’re . . . where?” Kellan asked. Our surroundings were exactly the same now as they had been the entire time we’d been walking.

She waved us forward, and we took a few steps farther into the clearing. As we did, there began to be a ripple across the darkness. Colors started to bleed out from the forest’s unending palette of blacks, blues, and grays, and shapes became visible: a red tile roof on a yellow-painted cottage, with tall sunflower stalks clustered under the second-story windows. A tract of garden was laid out beneath the late-morning sky, overflowing with harvest vegetables in rich jewel tones—vermilion pumpkins, purple-black eggplant, peppers of emerald and citrine, tiny tomatoes dangling from curling vines like rubies from a delicate necklace. Smoke trickled from the chimney as if to welcome us, promising a cozy fire inside.

“Welcome to the homestead,” Rosetta said. “Don’t touch anything.”

“You live here alone?” Kellan asked.

“You make it sound like that’s a bad thing.” She unlatched the gate, which screeched mightily as it swung open.

“So,” Kellan said, “if you’re the only one who lives here, you’re also the only one responsible for upkeep on the gate?” He leaned down to eye the rusty hinges. “Because this is unacceptable.”

“Spoken like a true Greythorne,” she said. “I liked it better the last time you were here, when you were quiet.”

“You mean, that time when I was stabbed and dropped off a cliff?? That time?”

“You’re welcome,” she retorted.

“For what? When I was delivered to my brother at Greythorne, I was all but dead.”

“All but dead is not dead. And it was not exactly easy carrying your sorry self all the way there. And if I hadn’t done it, who would have? Not Miss Princess over there. Didn’t see her doing anything useful to help you. She just sat there in the forest, crying like a helpless baby.”

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I blushed.

As she led us past the gate, Kellan whispered to me, “When Onal said the witch wasn’t good with people, I assumed it was because she liked to eat them. This might actually be worse.”

But as we approached the cottage, I was no longer listening to him. I dropped the wolfskin and stared.

“I know this house,” I said. “I’ve dreamed about this house.”

Rosetta watched as I began to make a circle around the cottage.

Her chin lifted. “What happened in this dream?”

I was suddenly hesitant to tell her, but she stared me down, waiting. She seemed the type that, having asked a question, expected an answer.

Reluctantly, I said, “There was screaming coming from the inside. I’d try to get in to see what was happening, to see if I could help, but couldn’t open any of the doors or windows. Eventually . . .” I trailed off and shrugged. “The screaming would stop and the dream would end.”

As if on cue, the cottage door opened and Onal stepped out.

“Rosetta,” she said. “Took you long enough to get home. I regret to inform you that I have eaten all the blackberries you had in your cupboard.” She sniffed the air. “Dear me, what is that smell?”

“Rotting wolf guts,” Kellan said.

Rosetta regarded the older woman with her arms folded. She said, “I should have known it was you who brought these two wits into my forest again. They caused me quite a lot of trouble the last time.”