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Serilda gulped.
“You know Shrub Grandmother?”
“Of course I do. The moss maidens came to me this evening and explained your difficult situation. I’ve been trying to keep an eye on you since the Snow Moon, but you just had to run off to Mondbrück, then Adalheid. If you would ever deign to listen to me—”
“You know themoss maidens??”
Madam Sauer balked. “Great gods. And you weremypupil? Yes, I know them. Also, keep your voice down.” She glanced toward the windows. “I do not think his spies yet know of your return to Märchenfeld, but we cannot be too careful.”
Serilda followed her look. “You know about the Erl—”
“Yes, yes, enough of that.” Madam Sauer impatiently flicked her hand through the air. “I sell them herbs. The forest folk, obviously, not the dark ones. Also poultices, potions, and the like. They have good healing magic, but not much grows in Asyltal. Not enough sun.”
“Wait,” whispered Serilda, astonished. “Are you telling me that you’reactuallya witch? A real one?”
Madam Sauer gave her a look that could curdle milk.
Serilda clasped a hand over her mouth. “You are!”
“I have no magic in me,” she corrected. “But there is magic in plants, and I am quite good with them.”
“Yes, I know. Your garden. I just never thought …”
Except, she had thought. A hundred times she’d thought of her as a witch, called her as much behind her back. She gasped. “Do you have an alpine newt for a familiar?”
The woman’s expression turned baffled. “What are you—? No, of course not!”
Serilda’s shoulders sank, more than a little disappointed.
“Serilda—”
“Is that why the moss maidens were here?”
“Hush!”
“Sorry. Is that why the moss maidens were here, on the Snow Moon last winter?”
Madam Sauer nodded. “And I understand that Shrub Grandmother was grateful for your involvement in seeing two of her granddaughters returned unharmed, which is why she has sent me to see if I might be able to help you.”
“But how can you help me? I can’t run away from him. I already tried that.”
“Of course you can’t. At least, not alive.”
Serilda’s heart skipped. “What does that mean?”
“It means you’re lucky. A death draft takes time to prepare, but we have until the Awakening Moon. It’s a desperate solution. A bit like trying to milk the mice. But it just might work.” She pulled a stiletto knife from her skirts. “To start, I will need some of your blood.”
The Awakening Moon
Chapter 47
The sun was bright overhead. A cool breeze made the air comfortable and sweet. Serilda stood in the garden that normally would be starting to flourish with peas and asparagus, beans and spinach, but this year, in her absence, had mostly gone to weeds. At least the cherry and apricot trees were growing heavy with fruit. The fields in every direction were bright green, and far off to the south, Serilda could see a herd of sheep in their fluffy coats grazing on one of the hills. The river was running strong and she could hear the constant creaking and splashing of the waterwheel behind the mill.
Altogether, it was as perfect as a painting.
She wondered if she would ever see it again.
Sighing, she glanced toward her mother’s hazelnut tree. The nachtkrapp was there again, in its favorite spot among the boughs. Always watching through those empty eyes.
