Chapter 17

Rhett

The windows were covered and no trace of the candy exterior lingered in our prison. All sense of what day it was had vanished when the pain started. Had two days passed? Three? A week?

While I got the brunt of her focus, Brunhilde quickly learned I would endure more on behalf of my brother, and would make him think he was in pain.

"Dolor," was a favorite, causing Hansel or I to feel like we were in severe physical and mental anguish, but no marks would appear on our skin.

"No! Please? Stop!" Hansel's appeals mingled with mine, until my voice was hoarse and I'd passed out.

She seemed to get pleasure out of our pain, and would only wake us up to do it all over again.

The only respite from Brunhilde's torture was when she disappeared through one of the doors beside the fireplace. I assumed it wasn't to sleep, because it was rarely for long enough to even be a nap. When she left, she usually forced us to eat her food and then put a spell of silence on us. The food no longer tasted delicious, the texture like paste and flavor closure to ash and rotting things.

For some reason, I was resistant to her potions and spell-casting, could usually still whisper despite her words rendering Hansel mute, and never slept as long as he did. I learned quickly to pretend.

Brunhilde had said a lot of things. She was a witch who hid her house from the satellites and those who would take it by magic. How she had glamoured her house to be appealing and even her food wasn't what it appeared.

Most of her mutterings were in Latin, though I recognized a little from Hansel's studies. These words always came with some magic, but one phrase had stuck out to me.

Est praedae mae.

The witch's words echoed in my head.

She'd said them like a cruel caress. As if they meant I belonged to her and was hers to destroy. I was determined not to let that happen.

Hansel was not looking well.

Brunhilde had said we had a week before the people came to collect him—the people who had bought him—and I didn't know how much time we had left.

The witch was puttering around between her dried herbs, bottles of mysterious ingredients, and the stand where she had the big book open. She was in a rare moment of ignoring us while Hansel was asleep and I pretended to be.

From my position on the hard stone floor, I couldn't make out the pages. But I was listening.

When Brunhilde let Hansel out to use the bathroom—only twice a day when she also gave him food and water—I heard her say something like, "sin-sinno," to lock him back up. I wanted to see for myself.

The witch never seemed to sleep, but I pretended to eat all she gave me, tossing bits into the nearby fire she never let die. It was sweltering hot, but good cover. Hansel had eaten while the witch cackled and threatened him, then promptly passed out.

The next time she left for the far room, not the one with the toilet nearest to me, I stretched up to as tall as my bindings would allow. The book was open to a page I couldn't begin to understand, mostly a scrawling red ink. But if I stretched just a little further…

My finger made contact with the page and my first instinct was to shiver and pull away, but I resisted. I could see the next page had an image of flames, and a few words I could read.

Ad flammam ignis: "Flammae."

Fire? I wasn't as educated as Hansel, but I could guess at their meaning since it was so close to German for flames. I turned the page to see drawings of vines and kept going past another page with big blocks of words. A sound of movement had me frozen, but it stopped with the sound of the witch talking to someone. Did she have a phone?

I turned the page again and my muscles strained at the stretch, but I found one with the image of a lock and the phrase I'd heard her say. "Cincinno clausem" followed by a drawing of an open lock and the words, "Non Cincinno."

It couldn't be that easy, could it?

Brunhilde's voice cut off and I reached to turn the pages back before throwing myself down on the hearth. The door opened right as I closed my eyes and tried to even my breathing to slow my heart rate down.

The cruel woman walked right past me with a kick to my ribs. I tried to stifle a whimper as she went to use the toilet, and decided to try something. I whispered the words I saw on the page but nothing happened.

Maybe it needed more volume? Or maybe I wasn't a witch and shouldn't try magic… I sighed and sat up, my chains clinking as a reminder it hadn't worked. I put my free hand against the keyhole and pulled on my inner strength.

"Non Cincinno." I articulated more clearly and felt a rush of warmth as the weight on my wrists fell off. Hansel stirred from the noise, and I quickly grabbed the cuff from falling to the hearthstone.

Brunhilde opened the door and sneered at me. "You're awake already?"

I saw her setting a path from my little brother, glad he was waking up too so it wasn't as suspicious. "I need to up my doses with you two."

The flickering flames lit the witch up from behind, and I had an idea. If one spell worked, why not another?

"Witch," I called out.

She turned and narrowed her eyes, but stayed in the middle of the room. I needed to get her to come closer.

"Maybe you're not as strong as you think." I purposefully slurred my words and swayed, as if I was still waking up. "You barely even tickled me with that last thing you tried. I bet you're not even as smart as our stepmother."

"Why you little brat." Brunhilde put her hands on her hips and took a step toward me in the small space.

Just a little closer.

"I'll have you know I am older than you could dream, and more powerful than you could imagine."

"You can't do a thing without your potions and spells," I taunted, squinting like I couldn't keep my eyes open.

She took another step.

"You're just playing at being a witch."

The screech she let out as she lunged for me was cut off when I grabbed her wrists and used the momentum to send the witch straight into the fire.

"Flammae!" I spoke at full volume as Brunhilde screamed and tried to push herself free. The second time, I yelled, "Flammae," and her body was engulfed.

"No, stop, noooo!" she shouted, howling the same pleas we had been saying to her for days.

I couldn't take my eyes off her blackened clothes and singed flesh until she stopped writhing and collapsed beside my discarded chains.

"Rhett?" Hansel's voice was small, but it echoed through the suddenly quiet room. I rushed to my brother's cage and fiddled with the lock as he coughed and tried sitting up.

"Non Cincinno."

The lock came undone on my first try, catching Hansel's attention. "How did you do that? How did you do the fire thing?"

"I read her book," I answered, pulling the door open with a squeal of metal and reaching for him. "Let's get out of here."

Hansel let me help him and then threw himself into my arms. "Thank you."

We toppled backwards and my back hit something hard. I sat up and turned to find a wooden chest with another lock on it.

"Can you unlock that?" Hansel asked, still not fully awake.

"I don't know." Shrugging, I decided to try and see.

Putting my hand on the lock, I repeated the same phrase and the lock followed my command even faster than it had on Hansel's cage. I pulled it loose and opened the top.

"Shit," Hansel cursed as we leaned over the contents as one.

The inside was lined with dark red velvet and full of treasures. Gold coins and cash were nestled in between sparkling rubies, diamonds, sapphires and others I couldn't name.

"Yeah, shit," I echoed before closing the lid.

"We're taking it," Hansel insisted.

I wanted to protest that we didn't need to be carrying a heavy box while leaving a murder scene, but he had it closed and under his arm before I could remember to speak.

"Let's go home."