Winterwood by JG Faherty Page B

Paul’s face, knew he was still thinking in modern terms. Except the reality of the situation was far worse than perversion or molestation. “Do you remember the story of Hansel and Gretel? Like so many others, it’s based on fact. From July to December, Gryla wanders the darkest woods of the Earth at night, looking for children to lure back to Winterwood with promises of candy and treats. But now, with the feast approaching, she’ll be busy in her kitchen, preparing her—”
    â€œStop it!” Anna turned to her husband. “She’s going to turn them into fucking pies, Paul. Our children. Cooked and served for dinner, goddammit.”
    â€œNo.” Paul shook his head. “No. I refuse to believe that will happen. We’ll get out of here. We’ll find them. There has to be a way—”
    A door slammed in the distance and someone in the back of the cell sobbed. “Quiet or she’ll take you next,” another voice said.
    A shadow appeared, short and wide, moving along a wall of the corridor.
    â€œIt’s the cat!” The children in the cell moved back against the far wall, cowering in a group. Anders’s heart gave an abrupt bang and his hand went for his pills, but the pain didn’t repeat.
    The shadow grew larger and then resolved into a familiar form.
    Ulaf.
    â€œHurry now,” said the elf, taking the key from its peg. “We don’t have much time.” He thrust the key into the lock and pulled the door open.
    The sight of the person who’d betrayed them ignited a fury in Anders, but when he tried to stand a ripple of dizziness sent him back to his knees and forced him to watch while Anna strode forward and slapped Ulaf across the face.
    â€œYou bastard! You left us to die and now my children are gone.”
    Ulaf rubbed his face and effected a distressed expression. “I’m truly sorry for my actions. But what choice did I have? Dead to rights they had you. And what good would I be in helping you escape if I sat behind the bars as well?”
    â€œBullshit.” Anna stepped past him and then paused. She glanced in both directions before fixing her gaze on Anders. “We don’t need him. You can find them.”
    Anders took Paul’s proffered arm and slowly got to his feet. He shook his head carefully, wary of bringing on another dizzy spell.
    â€œListen to your father. He knows you’ll never find your kin without me,” Ulaf said.
    â€œScrew you. I’ll find them myself.” She took a few steps to her right and stopped again when neither Anders nor Paul followed. “What are you waiting for?”
    â€œWe need him.” Anders pointed at Ulaf, hating his words but knowing they were true. “Otherwise we could end up wandering the castle until we either get caught again or end up like…”
    â€œMe,” Ulaf finished. “And then you, too, will be trapped here for eternity.”
    â€œPaul, they’re our children.” Anna turned her gaze to her husband. The flickering light of the scattered torches turned her into a living corpse. Anders hoped it wasn’t a foreboding of things to come.
    â€œWhat if he’s right?” Paul asked.
    â€œI am,” Ulaf said.
    â€œWhy should we believe you?” Anders felt as torn as his son-in-law looked. The elf had already deceived them once. Or had he? Was he telling the truth?
    â€œWhy would I come back, risk my own neck?” When no one answered, Ulaf sighed. He glanced down the corridor and then continued speaking, “Listen then. I’ve told you a little of how I came to be here. ’Twas the first night of Yule when they caught me. But not just me. They took my brothers as well. Six of us. They put me in the stables and sent the rest to work tending the fires. I never saw them again. Eaten, they were. Cooked into stew by that damn hag. I never knew, not until ’twas too late.”
    Ulaf placed a