Page 91 of Beyond the Cottage

“If you make it home, send us a wire so we don’t come looking for your corpse.”

“Sure thing.”

After quickly working out the logistics—Ansel and Gretta would spend the night in the robber’s den and hunt the witch in the morning—they repacked their things and followed Lil off the train.

Three more members of her gang disembarked with sullen mumblings about the booty they’d lost. The befuddled passengers stared out windows as the train resumed its course.

Ansel scanned the flat, sunny field. “I don’t see any horses.”

“They’re slow and easy to track,” Tadpole said. “No good for getaways.”

“So how the hell are we getting to this lake?”

“Patience, handsome,” Lil called, hiking west.

With Ansel sticking to Gretta like putty, they trekked through wild grasses for a quarter mile until they reached a marsh. A cluster of enormous, slender figures stood in the reeds, and from a distance, Gretta assumed they were dead trees. Then Lil let out a shrill whistle.

Six heads gracefully swiveled as one. Elegant wings unfurled. The figures took flight, wings swooping, creating a breeze that ruffled Gretta’s ponytail when they landed nearby.

Giant cranes—the prettiest, most intimidating birds Gretta had ever seen. Their wingspans had to be twenty feet, and their skinny legs could flatten a troll with one stomp.

“Are we supposed toridethose things?” Ansel asked.

Lil winked. “You can hitch with me.”

As Gretta gaped at their apparent transportation, Heron approached with his shoulders hunched and his eyes averted, like he didn’t want to frighten her.

His chalkboard read,I’d be honored if you’d ride with me, Miss Hag Hacker.

“My name’s Gretta. And I’d be happy to ride with you.”

Heron took her bags, and Ansel scowled.

Lil whistled again. The cranes hunkered, each extending a wing. Lil and Heron helped Ansel and Gretta up.

As Gretta’s crane stood, she locked her arms around Heron, and the birds ascended with a whooshing lurch. It was a different sort of flying than she was used to. They went higher,faster, and she had no control. But the wind on her face felt good. She laughed as the crane dipped, and Heron shyly patted her hand.

They continued on for miles. The marsh turned to prairie, then birch trees, then a pine forest shrouded in fog. Half an hour into their flight, a lake appeared. They landed on a bluff overlooking pale, creamy water that crashed against the cliff, misting the air. When the water ebbed, pearly foam coated the rocks below.

From the bluff, Gretta squinted but couldn’t see the lake’s other side. Inland, there were fruit trees and gardens with rows of neatly tended vegetables.

“That apple is the size of my head!” she said. Nodding, Heron spread his hand at the lake. Apparently the water did make things grow.

He helped her disembark, and Ansel stalked to her, looking a bit ill. The cranes flew off with a fluttering squawk.

“What do you think of flying,” she asked.

In answer, he hunched over with his hands on his knees. She laughed and rubbed his back. When she realized what she was doing, she snatched her hand away, embarrassed.

“Come on,” Lil said. “Home’s this way.”

Lil approached the cliff and dropped out of sight.

Chapter 33

Ansel leaned over the edge of the cliff to find Lil marching down a zig-zagging set of wooden stairs, and her gang followed single-file. The staircase wobbled, giving Ansel serious doubts about its structural integrity.

“Ready?” Gretta asked.

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