Page 10

Ten

ELSPETH

T he little cottage stood in front of us, sun splicing through the canopies and lighting the meadow with golden rays. Moss clung to the roof, a thick layer that covered the entire thing, making the little two-story house look like it had sprung from the forest.

Prue marched forward, running her fingers down the vines that hung over the sides. She peered into a window, wrinkling her nose at the dirt and grime that covered it.

I arched my neck, noticing the tall stone chimney that stuck out of the roof.

“A house,” Auggie said. “An actual house.”

“We can’t accept this,” I said to Elm, who stood by Adelaide as she beamed up at him.

A bubbling brook swept past the house, and I stepped over it, boots sinking into the soft ground.

“Yes, we can.” Auggie turned to Elm. “I accept. If she won’t live here, I will.”

“Auggie,” I said, a warning in my voice.

She’d been more defiant, more outspoken, lately. It wasn’t a bad thing. I was glad she spoke her mind but not when it came to our safety. Not when it came to me trying to make the best decisions for our family.

Mama and Prue walked around the side of the house, inspecting the ferns and flowers growing in abundance.

“Adelaide, there’s an old herb garden back here!” Mama cried from the other side of the house.

My older sister loved gardening, growing her own herbs, vegetables, and fruits to use in her recipes.

“Would you like to go see it?” Elm grabbed Adelaide’s hand and helped her step over the brook like she was some dainty maiden, not a capable grown woman.

Adelaide beamed. “Maybe after we see the house?” She still clutched Elm’s hand as they walked forward, whispering to each other.

“It doesn’t make sense,” I murmured.

“What doesn’t?” Auggie said.

I gestured at the house. “What is his angle? Why is he giving us a cottage?”

She rolled her eyes. “Maybe he doesn’t have an angle? Have you ever considered the possibility that he’s just a nice man?”

“Everyone has an angle,” I murmured, thinking of Johanes. He’d been a nice man too. Or so I thought.

“What do you propose we do, Elspeth?” Mama emerged from behind the house. She lifted her skirts as she walked over the muddy forest ground. “Go back to our broken tent that no longer protects us from the elements?”

“We can have it fixed,” I argued, not wanting to be in Elm’s debt, not wanting to live in this forest with all the other residents of Thistlegrove. We’d passed several other cottages on our way here.

In fact, just through the tall trees, I could see another cottage, so close to us it made my heart race.

Elm stepped forward. “I understand your hesitation. I really do.”

I crossed my arms. I doubted that.

“But this isn’t a gift. You’d be doing the entire town a huge favor by moving into this cottage.”

I narrowed my gaze. “And why is that?”

He took a deep breath. “I think it’s time we went inside so you can see for yourself. ”

That gave me pause. Now I was doubting everything. Maybe Elm wasn’t looking to find out our secrets. Maybe he was looking to do something far more ominous.

But no one else seemed to share my sentiments. Mama bustled up the rickety steps of the cottage, my sisters following her like little ducklings. I didn’t like this. Not at all. But it looked like I was outnumbered.

I walked up the stone steps, cracks in them that allowed weeds to sprout through. Elm gripped the door handle and attempted to turn it.

It wouldn’t budge.

“Is everything okay?” Adelaide asked.

“It’s stubborn,” he muttered.

“Who is stubborn?” I asked.

Elm didn’t answer, pulling again, grunting as his muscles strained underneath the green tunic he wore. If it was too hard for a werewolf to open a door, then I wasn’t sure how we were supposed to get inside.

All of a sudden, the door swung open, jolting Elm backward and through the air.

Adelaide cried out while the rest of us stared in confusion. Elm landed at the bottom of the steps on his back, a groan escaping him.

My older sister rushed to him, helping him to his feet. “Are you okay?”

He rubbed the back of his head. “I’m fine, but I did warn you.”

I looked back at the house, not so sure I wanted to enter anymore.

“The house did that?” Prue asked, eyeing the door and backing away.

Elm stood. “Do you still want to go in?”

“Yes,” Mama said with a decisive nod. “I think we do.” With that, she marched inside, Prue and Auggie following her while shooting unsure glances at each other.

Adelaide and Elm went next, and I took a deep breath before following.

The smells of mold and earth hit me all at once as I stepped into the single room. Dust covered every surface, the grime so thick on the windows that only small slivers of sunlight shone through. The threads of light illuminated big cobwebs that stretched over the corners, silvery spiders perched on the webs.

A kitchen table sat near the back window, at least an inch of dust sitting on top of it and insects scuttling across it. Prue walked toward a small hearth with an old cauldron knocked over on its side and rotted wood underneath. Cabinets with broken and cracked doors lined the wall by the hearth, and a long countertop spread out underneath, covered by splotches and stains so old I couldn’t ascertain what they were.

My stomach twisted.

“This place is a wreck,” Auggie said, her upper lip curling in disgust as she stepped over a puddle of green slime.

In response, the cottage began shaking. I backed into the wall, plastering myself to it while Mama and Auggie clutched each other. Elm grabbed Adelaide’s hand, drawing her to his chest.

“She didn’t mean anything by it,” he said, looking up.

“Who are you talking to?” I asked as the shaking intensified. The doors rattled, and glasses and plates clinked from inside the cabinets.

“She just meant that you need a little cleaning, sprucing up,” Elm said.

The shaking slowed, and my gaze shifted back and forth. “Are you talking to the cottage?”

Adelaide shot Elm a questioning look.

“Yes,” he finally said. “It was spelled by the previous owner.”

“And where are they?” I asked.

“Dead. But, unfortunately, the spell didn’t die with them, and we can’t get rid of the house.”

“Because of the magic?” Adelaide guessed.

Elm nodded. “The witch who lived here was a little paranoid, some might say. So she spelled this house to be protective of her, to only accept her as its owner. Now that she’s gone, the cottage has become a little more...unhinged over the years. There’s been attempts to tear it down that haven’t... ended well for those involved.”

Auggie’s hand floated to her mouth, eyes wide in horror.

“The house has become a bit of a nuisance for Thistlegrove. Most of the residents live in this forest, and the house can be cantankerous. Making a lot of noise. Lashing out at those who come too close. Not to mention, it’s a bit unsightly.”

A floorboard rose up and thwacked Elm in the back of the knees. He winced, and Adelaide rubbed his arm soothingly.

“So you want us to live here?” I gestured around. “In the cottage that might kill us?”

“It won’t kill you,” Elm said quickly. “The witch did have the sense to weave that into her spell—no killing.”

“Oh, well that changes everything,” I said.

“Elspeth,” Mama hissed, then mouthed, “Be nice.”

“How are we supposed to live in a house that doesn’t like us?” I asked.

Elm stepped forward. “Well, it could. If you cleaned it up, returned it to its former glory, it might be more receptive to you? And I figured it would be better than a broken tent.”

Mama and Auggie looked at each other, and I bit the inside of my cheek when a scream pierced the air from somewhere on the second floor.

My head snapped in that direction. Prue. I’d completely forgotten about my youngest sister. She must’ve snuck away at some point.

“Prue?” Mama called. “Are you alright?”

Silence followed.

Elm moved toward the stairs, but I held out a hand. “I’ll go. Just stay with my sisters and Mama and keep them safe.”

“I can do that,” he said after a beat.

I raced toward the small flight of stairs on the right. A few were splintered and jutting upward, and I carefully picked my way over them.

Boots thudded against the stairs behind me. “I’m coming with you,” Adelaide said.

I tipped my head toward a hole in one of the steps. “Be careful.”

We slowly made our way upstairs to the dark second floor. Windows sat at each end of the hallway, but similar to the ones downstairs, the grime on the glass was so thick, barely any light was allowed through.

“Prue?” I called out, a slight shake to my voice.

“In here,” she called, her own voice wobbling. Relief flooded me that she’d at least answered.

Adelaide and I hurried to the last door in the hallway. I braced myself as we approached, not sure what we were going to find.

When I rounded the doorway, my mouth fell open.

Prue sat on the ground, tears streaming down her face as books surrounded her. “This house has a library,” she said, holding up a book. “And it’s full of books. So many books. Ones I’ve never read.”

I crossed my arms. “Prue Moonflower! You scared us. Next time you’re excited, maybe find a different way to express it.”

Prue didn’t even respond, eyes already drifting to the book in her lap. Dust smudged her hands and cheeks, and she didn’t seem to notice all the motes floating in the air.

Adelaide nudged me. “Go easy on her. She’s found her happy place,” she whispered. “I don’t know if you’re going to be able to tear her away from this room.”

Adelaide was right. You did not want to come between Prue and her books. I grabbed my older sister’s arm and dragged her into the dark hallway.

“Is everything alright up there?” Elm called.

“Yes,” Adelaide called back. “Prue found a library.”

“Oh, Witch Superior,” Mama muttered. “That girl can sniff out a book a mile away.”

“What should we do?” Adelaide asked. “You know Elm has offered us perfectly acceptable rooms at the inn.”

“No,” I said quickly.

Adelaide gave me a look. “It would be clean and not spelled.”

“It would also be full of people. People who might have questions about the mysterious witches who just appeared in Thistlegrove.”

Downstairs a crash sounded, and we stilled.

“Everything’s okay,” Elm yelled. “Just an overturned chair.”

Adelaide turned her attention back to me. “What about us is mysterious?”

It was my turn to give her a look. “Maybe the fact that none of us besides Mama has our magic?”

“Then what’s the solution?” Adelaide asked. “We can’t stay in that tent without its protection spell. You don’t want to risk staying at the inn, so...” She glanced around the dark hallway of the little cottage.

Elm wasn’t really doing us a favor by letting us stay in this cottage. It wasn’t even his. In fact, it sounded like we’d be doing everyone in Thistlegrove a favor by staying here, fixing it up, possibly fixing its attitude.

If anything, staying here might ingratiate us with the residents of Thistlegrove. If we made this cottage hospitable again, it might even keep them from asking too many questions. Besides, we wouldn’t be here that long. We just needed to get our cart fixed. And somehow find the money to pay for it. Any way I looked at it, we didn’t have a lot of options. Adelaide was right. We couldn’t stay in that tent when the protection spell wasn’t working.

“We have no home,” Adelaide said softly, running a finger along the wall.

“Yes we do.” I spread out my arms. “This is our new home.”