Misfit Trials

Chapter 20

The journey was long and grueling and Marta could not keep up a steady pace. She needed to stop multiple times per day and slept well into the morning every day. The mountains were steep and hard to pass. As they rose higher and higher into the mountain, it became impassable by horse and they had to walk. A one week journey took nearly two.

By the end, Marta could barely walk and Rumpelstilzchen carried her to Atlantes's house. Nestled in a valley with a stream, Atlantes's hut sat squat and stooped under an old, gnarled tree.

"Marta, liebling. Wake up, hase. We have found help," Rumpelstilzchen tried to rouse her in his arms.

Marta was unable to raise her head. Her eyes fluttered and she murmured something into Rumpelstilzchen's chest, which he did not understand.

"Just hold on, hase. I will get you some water. Then we will see if the household can help us." Rumpelstilzchen hurried to the stream and cupped water into Marta's mouth. Though she was able to drink it down, it did little to help her regain her strength.

"Herr!"A voice called from the other side of the stream. "Herr! Are you ok?"

Rumpelstilzchen looked up to see a small, bent-backed man attempting to scurry to the stream. This was made difficult by his tiny, shuffling steps, his large, awkward cane, and his long, white beard.

"Fremder! Bitte! Bitte! My wife needs help. She is weak. Help us."

"Of course, of course. Bring her into the house. I will prepare a restorative. Come! Come!" The old man waved Rumpelstilzchen towards the house and shuffled his way into the door.

Rumpelstilzchen picked Marta up and hurried into the house.

"Place her on the bed. I will need about five minutes. Go fetch some water from the stream and set it on the fire." Though the old man could barely walk, his fingers nimbly chopped, stirred, and poured ingredients for his "restorative."

Rumpelstilzchen grabbed a bucket and hurried to the stream. He filled the bucket and ran back into the house to place it on the fire.

The old man continued to pour, stir, and measure items. When the water boiled, the old man wrapped the ingredients in cheesecloth, creating a bouquet to steep in the water. "We just need about five minutes for it to steep and then we have her drink it." Sitting in a chair, the old man turned to Rumpelstilzchen, who anxiously paced in front of the bed where Marta lay. "So, young man. What brings you all the way here? I rarely get visitors."

Almost absently, Rumpelstilzchen answered the old man. "We are looking for the sorcerer Atlantes." He kept his eyes on Marta, making sure that she was still breathing. Her body barely moved, though her chest steadily rose and fell with her ragged breaths.

"And why are you looking for him?"

"He helped my sister become pregnant. We were hoping that he could help us as well."

The old man got up and poured the brew from the fire into a cup. "Prop her up on the pillows there."

Rumpelstilzchen hurried to comply. When Marta's body was sufficiently high enough, the old man spooned the brew into her mouth. At first, Rumpelstilzchen had to help close her mouth and tip her chin back for her to swallow. But as she drank more and more of the brew, she began to respond. By the end of the cup, Marta's breathing had evened out and her eyes opened.

Making a noise of delight, Rumpelstilzchen pulled her to him and hugged her with all his might. "Oh, Herr. Danke. Danke." Rumpelstilzchen kissed Marta's brow and hair.

"Rum! Not in front of this man!" Marta exclaimed. She looked around the small house. "Where are we?"

"Aaah, don't you know?" the old man asked. "You are in my house."

"And who are you?" Marta asked, puzzled.

"Why, I am Atlantes," the old man said.

Rumpelstilzchen and Marta were amazed that they had stumbled upon the very sorcerer they had been searching to find.

"So, you wish to be pregnant. Tell me you have tried," Atlantes said.

For the next ten minutes, Rumpelstilzchen and Marta told Atlantes their story. While he listened, Atlantes began mixing ingredients from his stores. He ground herbs with a mortar and pestle, weighed and measured ingredients, and bottled the mixture.

"I must complete an examination," Atlantes said. "Do not be alarmed." He looked in Marta's mouth, felt her stomach, peered into her eyes. With each observation and touch, his face became more drawn and concerned.

Finally, he sat down. "I can help you become pregnant - "

Marta squealed with delight and clutched Rumpelstilzchen's hand.

But Atlantes held up his hand. "I can help you...but I will not."

Rumpelstilzchen stood, anger etching lines in his face. Marta's excited squeal turns into a wail of despair.

"What do you mean that you will not help us?" Rumpelstilzchen roared.

Unfazed, Atlantes calmly looked into Rumpelstilzchen's face. "Your wife's religious zeal, her constant fasting, dehydration, and sleep deprivation has ruined her body. Though pregnancy is always hard on a woman's body, a pregnancy for her would likely be deadly. I will not help her commit suicide. I suggest you forget this thought of having a baby. Adopt. I know that there are many orphaned children in your town. Bring one of them into your home. Es ist mir Wurst! Adopt six. But I will not help you become pregnant. That is my final word."

"But you have cured Marta! Look at her! Her cheeks are rosy. Her eyes are bright. She looks better than she has in months. You can fix her and she can have our child!" Rumpelstilzchen screamed in Atlantes' face.

Marta sobbed loudly on the bed while Atlantes stared calmly at the enraged Rumpelstilzchen. "I repeat. I will not help you."

Rumpelstilzchen reached behind Atlantes and grabbed the bottled potion from the table. "Is this it? Is this the potion?"

Atlantes finally began to look concerned. "You do not know what you are doing, Rumpelstilzchen. You will kill your wife."

"Is this the potion?" Rumpelstilzchen screamed.

"If you give that to your wife, not only will you kill your wife, but you will have made an enemy of me. With that potion, your wife will have a child, but she will die. And then I will take the child from you." As Atlantes spoke, he began to transform. His back straightened. His voice resonated in the small house. His eyes brightened. He looked years younger and much fiercer.

But Rumpelstilzchen was beyond reasoning. His wife had prayed, fasted, pleaded with God for a child and now the means was within their grasp. Of course he was going to take it.

"Marta!" He turned to his wife and handed her the unstoppered bottle. "Drink this!"

"But, Rum - "

"I said, drink this!" Rumpelstilzchen forced the bottle into her hand.

Before Atlantes could stop her, Marta swallowed the potion.

"You Dummkopf! Your wife is as good as dead and your child is lost."