From a High Tower - Mercedes Lackey Page 0,115

turned up in a curiously charming smile. “Pieter was happy to help. Pieter is happy to have new friends. All is good again. Yes?”

“Yes, Pieter,” Rosa said warmly. “All is well that ends well. Time to get your new friends to their new home, and put them to bed.”

Giselle nodded. Two of the children held in Pieter’s arms were already nodding off. Pieter smiled, nodded instead of waving, and turned. The last they saw of him, he was lumbering—carefully—off into the distance, along the swath of destruction he had cut through the forest to get here.

Rosa looked at the cottage, which was now nothing but a ruin. She frowned, and turned to the oven. A few pieces of wood had fallen out when they pushed the Blood Witch inside and were lying on the ground, still smoldering. Rosa walked over and picked one up, blowing the end into flaming life again. Striding deliberately to the ruined cottage, she tossed it inside, where the old straw from the roof immediately caught and blazed up.

She and Giselle stood together and watched the cottage burn. It didn’t take very long; the place must have been as dry as old paper.

“You were very lucky, you know,” Rosa said, soberly. “An extra child, given away to someone who wanted and loved you. We of the Brotherhood hear stories like the ones those children told far too often. Except that what we see is bones, or sometimes bodies, in sheltered places in the woods. Parents who can’t feed themselves, much less their children, lead them out into the woods and leave them there. . . .”

Giselle shuddered. “How often does something like that happen?” she asked.

Rosa shrugged. “Once is too often. But what happens in cities can be worse.”

“I’d rather not know,” Giselle replied faintly. “At least not right now.”

Rosa nodded. “Let’s go home. I mean, back to—”

“I know what you mean,” Giselle replied, “The camp feels like home, now. And . . . we saved those children and destroyed that horrid monster. I think we can sleep well tonight.”

“What’s left of it, anyway.” But Rosa laughed quietly. “Yes, we did. We saved the children. They are not going to go work as near-slaves on someone’s farm or in someone’s inn. They are going to go have a good life with Pieter.”

“I would say that is virtually guaranteed.” The scent of ozone and a cool breath of air was the only warning either of them had that the aether was back. “Well done, you. But let’s err on the side of caution shall we? I can carry a message for you to the Bruderschaft der Förster, Rosamund. If you like.”

“That would be . . . unbelievably kind of you!” Rosa exclaimed, as Giselle beamed her thanks at the ripple in the air that was the aether. “Please tell Gunther what happened, and that someone needs to look in on Pieter and make sure he has everything he needs for those children. I have no idea how he thinks he’s going to get clothing for them, for instance. It might be summer now, and they’ll be fine in clean rags, but winter will be coming all too soon.”

“Easily done. I can be there before Master Gunther goes to bed.” There was a wild wind that tossed everything around for a moment, and then the aether was gone again.

“You must have impressed that aether,” Rosa said thoughtfully, glancing over at Giselle. “I’ve never known one to volunteer to do that much before.”

“You also don’t know too many Air Masters,” Giselle pointed out hastily. “And neither do I. I have no idea what’s normal. For all I know, aethers are like Pieter, they like people and want to help if they can.”

“Point,” Rosa replied, and yawned hugely. “And since we are not aethers and will have to walk back, let’s get started. I can’t see my bed soon enough.”

14

FREIBURG was the biggest city that Giselle had ever seen, and in many ways she was very, very glad that the show had been booked here for most of the month of October as part of Oktoberfest, because it meant she was working, and working hard, six days in the week, and didn’t have much time to think about how very big and very intimidating the city was. She could not even begin to imagine the sheer size of cities like Hamburg and Salzburg and Vienna, when Freiburg made her head spin.

The way Kellermann chuckled over the receipts each night made

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