The Alarming Scent of Cinnamon

VIII

Every day, Gretel had the same routine. She would wake up early, walk to the outskirts of town with the magic book, and watch the sunrise while practicing. Once people began to wake up, she would scurry back to the house where she and Hansel were staying and begin her act.  She and Hansel began attending school regularly. 

The kind old schoolmaster allowed them to come and study earlier than the other students after one class with all the other students. They had all been too busy asking personal questions and whispering about Hansel and Gretel to actually learn anything. 

They learned quickly, and spent their down time in the meadow, taking turns reading the magic book to each other. 

Gretel became obsessed with learning magic. She spent all her free time reading the magic book, and quickly discovered that more powerful spells could only be performed by saying a phrase in the language of the Fae, which looked like nonsense and was near impossible to pronounce. Gretel never gave up, though, and taught herself how to pronounce a few simple phrases just by trial and error.

On top of learning the language of the Fae, a variety of ingredients were needed for each spell. Some of them were downright strange, and for whatever reason, a lot of them required a drop of blood. 

Hansel continued to learn about shapeshifting. He now knew not to remain in a form for too long, and he learned that he could only transform into animals he'd seen. He wished he could transform into Fae creatures, like dragons and goblins, although he still wasn't even sure those existed.

One morning, Gretel shook Hansel awake while it was still dark outside. He awoke groggily.

"What?"

"I figured out another spell! Come see!"

"Another spell? You mean you've figured out spells and not told me?"

Gretel nodded guiltily.

"Well, let's see this one," he said, still a bit hurt.

"Follow me," Gretel said, grabbing a handful of ash from the fireplace on her way out. 

"Why did you take that?" he asked.

"I need it for the spell," she said. They stealthily made their way to the spot where Gretel practiced every morning. The sky grew lighter and a few people began to wake up.

Hansel knelt on the ground by Gretel. She grabbed a pinch of ash in her right hand, then dropped the rest.

"Is that some sort of ritual?" Hansel asked.

"No, I just need my other hand open," Gretel whispered back. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath in, holding the ashes above her open hand.

"Vvrajfriv relqek," she muttered, sprinkling the ashes into her open hand. As they floated down, each individual speck of ash glowed red hot, then gathered into a small flame hovering abover Gretel's hand.

"Woah," Hansel breathed. "That's kinda freaky,"

"Isn't it?" she said. "That's the Fae language. I have to do this over and over, testing different pronunciations,"

"Yeesh," he said. "I wonder if you could find a teacher,"

"They would have to be a Faerie," Gretel said. "And you know where they live, right?"

"The Dark Woods," a voice said. 

"Hansel? Was that you?" Gretel asked. He shook his head, eyes wide. Gretel turned toward Kustef.

A small boy peered out from behind a house.

"You just did magic," he said, hushed.

"Uh-not necessarily," Gretel stammered.