Free Once Upon a Time: The Villains by Shea Berkley Page A

nothing like the witches my mother used to threaten me with if I didn’t do my chores in a timely manner. She wasn’t ugly or wicked looking, or stooped with bad teeth. In fact, this woman glowed like an angel.
    “Don’t worry about me,” Korb said, snatching it from her hand. He tossed a small pouch of money in the witch’s lap. “What about the little one? Can you save her?”
    After stuffing the pouch in her bag, she scooped me up — dirty, thin blanket and all — into her arms and smiled. “She’ll outlive you, I vow.”
    Korb waved the paper back and forth, “Maybe. Maybe not,” and laughed.
    Snuggled next to the woman, I closed my eyes. I was dreaming. I knew it because my dreams always ended on a much sweeter tune than the raw reality of my life. As the unknown woman carried me from that horrible place, I just knew I was going to heaven.
    Heaven smelled like sticky buns, gingerbread and gumdrops. The witch didn’t live in town, but in a small house more than a mile down the forest road. I slept on the rug near the hearth, ate and slept some more. Often, when I was awake, I pretended to be asleep, hording my newfound warmth and life of ease. The woman would come in and check on my progress, but mostly, she would tend to her “business.”
    People came knocking at her door day and night. Many came for a weeks-worth of sweets, but some … oh, they came for something else. Their futures told. The misery that was their life eased. Oh yes. When the desperate appeared, the clink of many coins could be heard and the palming of small vials caught my notice. Whenever the witch caught me looking, she’d smile and bring me a cup of sweet mead — the best thing for the weary and the sick, she’d say — and soon I was asleep again.
    One night, a week to the day of my rescue, I thought I heard the rat catcher’s voice. I cringed under my covers, scooting even closer to the fire until the warmth turned uncomfortably hot. His voice was sharp and demanding; hers scared and pleading. But when morning came, I was still snug in my new home. It must have been a nightmare. Yet the next week, he came again. And again for two more, until within the darkness of my sleep, her answers turned hard, her words threatening.
    “You can’t have her.”
    “You’re keeping her for yourself, aren’t you?” Korb accused.
    “I do what I must. After all, I haven’t your talent.”
    “Damn my soul? Well, yours be damned now.”
    She tossed a pouch of money in the air and he caught it. “Leave, or I’ll cast more than one spell tonight. Trust me, you won’t like the results.”
    The door slammed shut and the house grew quiet and I, snug in my cocoon of warmth, slipped back into my dreams. After that night, my terrible night fears faded, and visions of Korb rarely came at all.
    While I was sick, every noon, the woman would bring me a cup of her special mead and I’d take a nap, and then again, every evening before bedtime. In no time I was feeling better than I’d ever felt in my short misery-filled life. That terrified me, for I’d come to adore this woman — Evie.
    Soon after, Evie came into the room, pulled a chair near the fire and sat. Her soft brown eyes studied me. “Your color has returned. I think you are finally on the mend.”
    If I felt better, would she give me back to the rat catcher? I put my hand to my mouth and coughed, then looked helplessly up at her. “I don’t feel mended.”
    Surprise lit her face. “You can talk?” She grinned. “Korb didn’t think you could.”
    “I don’t like him.”
    “No one likes him. But he serves a purpose, so we tolerate him.” Her eyes grew clouded. “Once he was very grand to many a village girl’s eyes, but…”
    After a moment, her gaze refocused on me. “Are you hungry?”
    “Yes.”
    “Soup? Or do you fancy something more substantial? Beef and potatoes?”
    Beef and potatoes? I’d never had that before, and the way she said it made it sound wonderful.