And then I am a child again, cowering in my bed, peeking over the edge of the covers into the room below. Ágota crouches beneath the low roof, fingers flexing at her side, swirls of her magic illuminating the air.
The door to our cottage creaks open.
In the fading light of the day, it appears a bit of the forest has broken off and waddled to the cottage. A child-size man stands on the threshold. His bushy beard and clothing are covered in thick green moss and his skin is the color of the forest floor.
My mother’s shoulders relax at the sight of one of the moss people that inhabit the forest that surrounds our home. Bowing her head, she says, “Greetings, sir.”
“Greetings and a warning, fair Viorica,” he says politely. “Der Leibhaftige has been seen on the path approaching the village.”
My sister swears in German under her breath. When she directs her gaze toward me, I observe the fear dwelling in her eyes. Her hazel eyes have turned a vibrant green, a sure sign she is about to unleash her magic.
“The devil?” I whisper in Romanian.
Ágota nods. “Do as I say. Do not disobey me. Mama and I have planned for this.”
“But the devil?” I gasp. “Why?”
“He wants Mama,” Ágota answers, “and now he has found her.”
Below us, the moss man and my mother speak rapidly in German.
“The wards on the road are weakened. Earlier today two women from the village, bewitched by the alp, dug up many of the charms you buried.”
“Why was I not told?” my mother demands. “We agreed—”
“An alp saw me and I had to fight the demon all day. I only escaped when it scampered to the side of Der Leibhaftige when he appeared. I rushed here as fast as I could. There are a few charms still on the road. He will have to break through them, but it will not take him long.”
“Then there is not much time,” my mother says, her voice trembling.
The moss man bows his head. “We will do as we promised.”
He departs with those words.
My mother shuts the door, her long hand splayed against the aged wood. Lifting her blue eyes, she stares at us with tears in her eyes. “Agy, promise me you will do what we planned. Do not falter in your task.”
“We should run now!” Ágota replies. “All of us!”
“There’s no time. He will follow and catch us. I must do as I planned so that we can all escape together.”
I am drowned in the fears of little Erjy. My adult mind, trapped within the confines of my younger one, struggles to scream out that she will fail, but I cannot change what has already happened.
“Mama, please. Let us run now!” Ágota never sheds tears, yet she is weeping.
“Then he will not have just one prize, but two. And I do not ever want to know what he will do to Erjy. We do as we planned.”
Ágota wipes at her face with the bottom of her dress, spreading dust across her cheeks. “Mama, please, I am afraid.”
Our mother pulls herself up on the ladder to peer into the loft. It is dark and cool in the small space. With gentle fingers, she cleans off Ágota’s cheeks and kisses her on the forehead. A swirl of golden magic glows on Ágota’s skin before fading.
“Ágota, I trust and believe in you. Promise me you will do as we planned and do not falter.”
“I promise. Witches oath.” Ágota lifts her chin, blinking away tears.
My mother smiles. “Thank you.”
I crawl forward and my mother kisses me. Her lips are warm against my skin. I raise my hand to my brow, wondering if magic lingers there, too.
“Erjy, a very cruel and evil man is coming. He wishes for me to serve him, but I will not. I have laid a trap for him, but it will hold him only for a short time. You must obey Ágota. Everything she says you must do.”