One Witch at a Time Read Online Free Page A

guilt. If Susanna Louisa had been tempted into accepting beans that she thought would feed the entire village, could he blame her? She was nine years old. She had only been trying to help.
    Hungry or not, the villagers of Brixen were a hardy lot, and so they went about their day as usual. Or so it seemed to the casual eye, but Rudi knew better. Small children stared as he drew near, and were nudged behind their mothers’ skirts. The matrons smiled awkwardly, and the menfolk gave stiff nods. Rudi tried to ignore the sidelong glances. He told himself he did not hear whispering behind his back.
    At the edge of the village square, Rudi came upon Mistress Gerta scrubbing her doorstep. She was a widow with many children—so many, in fact, that she could scarcely keep their names straight. As for children who were not her own, Mistress Gerta never bothered with names. Any girl was called “Sweet,” and any boy was called “Lad.”
    And so Rudi blinked in surprise when she said to him, as clear as day, “Good morning, Master Rudi.”
    He gave a wary nod as he walked past. “Good day, mistress.”
    â€œRudi!”His friend Konrad raced across the square, with his little brother Roger close behind.
    â€œHullo, Rudi!” Roger’s wide grin revealed two missing teeth. “Mama says we’re not supposed to talk to you.”
    â€œWhy not?” demanded Rudi, though he knew perfectly well why not, and it vexed him. “Besides, you are talking to me.”
    â€œMama also says we should be nice to you,” explained Roger. “Because you’re friends with the wi—”
    Konrad clapped a hand over his brother’s mouth, but Roger kicked him in the shin. “How can we be nice to Rudi if we don’t talk to him?” said Roger, scowling.
    Konrad rubbed his sore leg. “Where are you going, Rudi?”
    Rudi scratched his ear. “To the tanner’s cottage. To pick up a package.” Which was true, more or less.
    â€œWe’ll come with you,” said Konrad, to Rudi’s exasperation. On any other day he would have welcomed the company. But not today.
    â€œMama says we have chores!” declared Roger, and Rudi took the chance to bid a hasty farewell.
    At the far end of the village was the blacksmith’s shop. Its forge glowed with heat, and Marco the smith swung his hammer, striking the anvil in a series of CLANG s that pierced the air. Without breaking hisrhythm, Marco gave Rudi a grin and a knowing wink.
    Rudi sighed. At least Marco wasn’t uneasy around him.
    Now the clanging stopped, and Marco stepped away from his forge. “Ah, my favorite thief!”
    Rudi’s face grew hot, and it wasn’t from the heat of the forge. “Master Smith,” he muttered, “I never stole . . . anything.” He’d almost said, “I never stole the witch’s gold coin,” but he’d held his tongue just in time. “At least not on purpose. You know that.”
    Marco clapped Rudi on the back. “Don’t be so modest!” He leaned closer. “Nothing wrong with embellishing the truth a bit, lad. It builds a healthy respect. I’ve been thinking of taking on an apprentice. Interested?”
    â€œMe?” said Rudi. “Oh, I couldn’t. My papa needs me. And I like the dairy. But thank you for asking, all the same.”
    â€œWhere are you off to?”
    After a moment’s hesitation Rudi invented an errand, and surprised himself at his own words. “I’m off to unlock something. I think.” It must have been the thought of the keyhole beans tucked deep inside his pocket.
    Marco lifted an eyebrow. “You don’t say. Have you got the right key?”
    Rudi shrugged. “I don’t think it’s that sort of lock.”
    â€œWouldn’t be much of a lock if it didn’t need a key,” said the blacksmith. “Wait here.”He disappeared into his