Wildwood Dancing

Searching for her might take all day and be no help at all. I wonder what it meant, what Grigori said. If you truly want to find 279

her, you’ll find her. . . . ” I hugged my cloak around me. “Gogu,” I said in a very small voice, “I think what we need to show is . . .

well, blind faith. Do you trust me?”

With my life.

“All right, then.” I took the frog in my hands, drew a deep, shuddering breath, closed my eyes, and stepped onto the frozen lake. I walked, unseeing, step by step. The ice made moaning, cracking sounds under my boots. The hard freeze of Dark of the Moon was beginning to weaken; the waters of T?aul Ielelor had scented spring. I kept my eyes screwed shut, and with each step I thought about why I needed Dr?agu?ta to help me: Father; Cezar; Tati and Sorrow; . . . Piscul Dracului; my sisters’ future; the folk of the wildwood . . .

“Dr?agu?ta,” I whispered, pausing to stand completely still, Gogu cupped between my palms. “Dr?agu?ta, can you hear me?”

Get rid of the man.

“What?” I hissed. Drat Gogu, he had completely broken my concentration.

Throw away the little garlic man.

I dug into my pocket, fished out Florica’s tiny charm, and threw it as far as I could across the frozen lake. Maybe the folk of the Other Kingdom feared garlic or maybe, as Tadeusz had said, that was a myth. Better safe than sorry. I shut my eyes again. “Dr?agu?ta,” I said, “I love the forest. I love the Other Kingdom. I love my family, and I love Piscul Dracului. Please help me to save them.” My heart was drumming hard, and so was Gogu’s. Hadn’t my cousin Costi been drowned right here where I stood? I tried not to think about the probability that if 280

the ice broke and I fell through, I would freeze so fast I wouldn’t have time to drown.

We waited. I felt the cold seep under my cloak and my warm gown and my woolen stockings and into the core of my bones. My nose was numb, my ears ached. I thought I could feel ice forming on my eyelashes. Gogu was shivering in great, convulsive spasms. I refused to believe she wasn’t coming. Allow that thought in and she probably wouldn’t. Faith was required, and faith was what I planned to demonstrate, for as long as it took.

It’s hard to stand still with your eyes shut for a long time: eventually you start to lose your balance and feel faint and dizzy. I kept it up a good while, listening to the silence of the forest and willing Dr?agu?ta to put in an appearance before I was frozen through. But it wasn’t the witch of the woods who finally made me open my eyes, it was Gogu. He started so violently that I almost dropped him on the ice. As I bent to grab him, I found myself looking into the face of someone very small, who had been standing quietly in front of me, right by my feet.

That’s her.

“What?”

That’s her. Cupped in my hands, Gogu buried his head against my palm, trembling.

I took another look. White shawl, more holes than fabric.

White hair, long and wild. Cloudy green eyes, like ripe gooseberries. Wrinkled face, beaky nose, fine parchment skin. A little staff of willow wood, with a polished stone like a robin’s egg set at the tip. Little silver boots with pointed toes, glittering 281

against the ice where she stood. In the hand that did not hold the staff, she had a delicate silver chain, and at the end of it sat a white fox in a jeweled harness. The woman herself stood not much higher than my knees.

“You stink of garlic!” she said sharply, eyes fixed on mine.

“Can’t stand the stuff, myself. What have you brought me?”

“Ah . . . are you Dr?agu?ta?” I could not believe this tiny, frail-looking creature was the feared and fabled witch of the wood.

“What do you think?”

I couldn’t afford to waste even one question. If she was Dr?agu?ta, she might decide to vanish at any moment. I had to get this right.

“I think you are, and I offer you my respectful greetings,” I said, giving her a curtsy. She sniffed, but stayed. The fox was pawing at the ice, wanting to dig.

“I have some good bread and some tasty cheese,” I said, curs-ing myself for not thinking of bringing gifts. “And a red, rosy apple. You are welcome to those.” Putting Gogu on my shoulder, I undid Florica’s cloth from my belt and knelt down to offer it.

“Hm,” the tiny woman said, prodding at it with her staff.

“Anything else?”

I thought frantically. “My gold earrings? A nice silk handkerchief?”

“Are you afraid of me, Jenica?” the witch asked suddenly.

And suddenly I was, for she stretched her mouth in a smile, revealing two rows of little pointed teeth. She was looking straight at Gogu, who was trying to hide under my hair.

Dr?agu?ta put out a long, pale tongue and licked her lips.

282

“You do have something I want,” she purred. “Something juicy. Something tasty. Something green as grass.”

“You can’t have Gogu!” I gasped, horrified. “Anything else, but not him!”

“Oh, Jena, you disappoint me. All this way in the cold, and such a heartfelt plea, and you give it all up for a mere morsel like that? Perhaps you don’t quite understand. Give me the frog, and I’ll tell you everything you need to know. The solutions to all your problems. It’s easy. Just pass him over. It’ll save me from having to decide what’s