Free One Witch at a Time by Stacy DeKeyser Page B

embrace.
    â€œCould I have one of those?” came a small voice. Susanna Louisa’s.
    Ludwig’s pained face crinkled into a smile, and he hugged Susanna, too. “You’ll be back again before you know it.”
    Perhaps it was Ludwig’s great size, or Agatha’s testy, tearful mood, or both, but to Rudi’s mind, Susanna Louisa looked suddenly very small. Too small to be venturing so far from home.
    And he was responsible for her.
    Time to accomplish the task at hand. Do it right , Rudi told himself, so you only need to do it once. He shook Ludwig’s hand without a word, lest his voice waver and betray his own fears. Ludwig gestured up the hill toward their destination and stood on the doorstep, his jaw set and his arms folded tightly across his chest.
    There was nothing to do but set off. Rudi, Susanna, and Agatha trooped up the snowy lane in uneasy silence, past weather-beaten houses optimistically adorned with mistletoe. Rudi glanced over his shoulder. Ludwig still stood on the doorstep, watching them, his thick shock of hair a bright daub against the gray house. He was too far away now for Rudi to see the expression on his face, and Rudi was grateful. It made the leaving easier. Nowonder Agatha charged ahead, never once looking back at her father.
    Rudi thought of his own parents. They were sharply aware of the benefits to be gained by Rudi’s acquaintance with the Brixen Witch. And yet, Rudi knew that if it were up to them, Mama and Papa would never allow Rudi to have dealings with their own witch, much less the witch of Petz.
    But it was not up to them. And it seemed the same was true for Ludwig and Agatha.
    The three travelers continued up through the village, which looked to be held together by ice and pure luck. Small children tumbled past, as round as snowballs in their layers of warm clothing. A thick-coated dog trotted up to greet Agatha and sniff the newcomers. A bundled woman pulled frozen shirts and trousers off her wash line, stacked them like kindling, and carried the stiff pile into her crooked house.
    Once again, Rudi was struck by how familiar it all seemed. Except for the outward details—the decoration on the houses; the stubborn winter; and, not least, the outline of the peak that loomed above—daily life in Petz seemed very much like daily life at home in Brixen.
    â€œThe folk of Petz seem content enough,” he remarked. “Considering your giant witch is such a tyrant.”
    â€œWhat choice do they have?” snapped Agatha.“They make the best of a bad situation.”
    As if to prove her point, a scrawny tabby cat came padding from behind a splintered shed. She mewed and wound herself around Agatha’s boots.
    â€œPretty kitty!” said Susanna, reaching for the cat.
    An exposed claw shot out and raked a deep scratch across Susanna’s borrowed shearling mitten.
    â€œBad kitty!” Susanna cried, jumping back to hide behind Rudi. “Why does she like you and not me? Is she yours?” For the cat had resumed rubbing against Agatha’s ankles, and now it was purring loudly.
    â€œShoo!” said Agatha, shaking her foot. “Not mine. She lives under the shed.”
    Rudi knew a thing or two about bad-tempered cats. His own barn cat, Zick-Zack, had not allowed anyone to touch her since she was a kitten. Now Rudi stomped his foot and said, “BOO!”
    The cat arched her back, hissed, and shot under the shed.
    â€œI seem to have a way with cats,” said Agatha. “I don’t know why. You’d think I had a fish in my pocket.”
    This caused Susanna to blink in recollection. She reached into her own coat. “I have beans in my pocket. Want one?” She popped a tiny pod into her mouth and crunched.
    Agatha gasped in horror.
    â€œDon’t worry,” said Susanna, opening another pod to display its contents. “They’re not the magic ones. See? No keyhole mark.”
    Rudi winced at