She saw another body, lying half in a bush. She ran to it and pulled it out. A woman. Her chest was caved in, and her neck was bent at an unnatural angle. Gretel turned and ran on.
Bodies. More bodies. Gretel hadn’t realized so many had fallen. There were dozens of them, scattered, lifeless, throughout the woods.
But where was Hansel? Where was he? Was he as lifeless as these bodies she found in the underbrush? Was he as still? As cold? Where was he?
Then the forest floor began to shine. White pebbles. The white pebbles were lighting her way. She followed them. They brought her to the clearing.
There, standing at the clearing’s center, was Hansel, covered in blood. She ran to him and threw her arms around him. “I’m okay,” he said hoarsely. “It’s not my blood. I was helping the wounded.” She nodded and held him.
They followed the path of shining pebbles out of the woods. As they walked, the creepy moon illuminated the forest floor and the bodies scattered among the silent trees. Some faces were covered in blood, with eyes open but dead. Others were crushed beyond recognition. A hand was lodged in the crook of a branch. A young woman lay facedown, her hair spread out about her bloody head like a halo.
The children hid their faces.
Lost lives.
Empty bodies.
Hansel and Gretel held each other as they walked through the quiet, awful night.
Okay.
Take a breath.
Last story.
Here we go.
HANSEL and GRETEL and Their Parents
Once upon a time, two children, a boy named Hansel and a girl named Gretel, followed a path of shining pebbles out of a dark, bloody wood and into a small town. The inn of the town was lit, and the children could hear loud voices within. They walked to the door. They opened it. They were met with a roar.
“They live!” someone shouted, and they were swarmed by people, slapping their backs, rubbing their heads, embracing them.
“You did it!” they cried. “You survived!”
“And you saved us!” It was the man who had been hiding behind the tree. The woman was next to him. She beamed at them.
“Most of us,” someone said. The cheers began to fade.
“And the dragon?” another asked. Now all became silent.
Hansel and Gretel stared at the people, their faces expectant, hopeful.
“It lives,” Gretel said, shaking her head. “The dragon lives.”
A long, heavy sigh passed through the room.
“We’re sorry,” Hansel said. “We tried.”
“Oh, well that’s good!” There was a young man sitting in the corner. He had a long fresh cut across his face that was yellow with balm. “The children tried! Well, that makes it all better!”
Hansel and Gretel stared at the young man and his grotesque, raw scar.
“They had a cute little idea,” he went on, “and they gave it a shot! Good for you two!” His tone suddenly changed. “Do you know I nearly died out there? Do you know that we all nearly died!”
“We didn’t, though,” said a large man with a beard.
“We didn’t. How many did? How many dead are there?”
There was silence. In their minds, Hansel and Gretel saw the bodies scattered among the trees. Gretel thought of the woman whose hair looked like a halo.
“They’re children!” the scarred man shouted. “Children! We followed children to fight a dragon? What were we thinking? What were any of us thinking?” He put his head in his arms on the table.
A woman nearby placed a hand on his shoulder. She glared at Hansel and Gretel.
The man with the beard stepped up to them. “Don’t listen to them,” he said. “You did good. Most of us lived. No one has ever survived a fight with the dragon before.”
“And what’s this on you?” said a woman, gesturing at Gretel. Gretel looked down. She was covered in the black blood of the dragon.
“We hurt it,” Gretel said. “We took two of its toes and cut the side of its face.” She did not explain that the moon had bitten half of its cheek off. She wasn’t sure they would understand.
Her news was met with a louder roar than the one that had met them when they’d entered.
“Hurt it!” “Took two toes!” “Gashed its face!”
The bearded man squeezed each of their shoulders with a meaty hand. “You see? This was just the first battle. We’ll get it next time. And now that we know we can beat it, you’ll have a thousand more recruits. Ten thousand more!”
“And it will be a thousand times smarter!” the young man shouted from the corner. “And ten thousand times angrier! How many more people will die for this ... this childishness? And now it will be worse than before. It will take revenge on all of us. On everyone.”
There were scattered murmurs of agreement from around the tavern.
“What have we done?” he moaned.
Gretel’s face was scorching. Hansel’s lips were pressed together so hard they had turned white.
“There are dead in the forest,” Hansel said at last.
“Yes,” said the veteran. “We’ll tend to them. You go home now.”
The children turned and walked out of the tavern. As the door closed behind them, something hit it and clattered to the floor.
They walked back to the castle as the eastern horizon was just beginning to change from black to deep, deep blue. The moon had set. The air was cold and moist. After a while Gretel said, “It wasn’t supposed to happen like that.”
“So?” Hansel answered sullenly. “It did.”
“But how?” Gretel replied, shaking her head. “It must have known somehow.”
“Known what? What knew?”
“The dragon.”
“What are you talking about?”
“It knew the plan. It saw the apples, and then it came through the woods to take us from behind.”
“It didn’t know,” Hansel scoffed. He felt cold. He rubbed his arms up and down.
“It did. About everything except the wine.” Gretel kicked the road. “Who knew our plan?”
“It didn’t know,” Hansel repeated. “Maybe it figured out the apples were a trap.” His stomach twisted. “It was a stupid, childish plan.”
“No,” Gretel said. “No. It knew.”
At the palace, the queen rushed up to them and took them in her arms. “Oh, my dears! You’re safe! Oh, thank God you’re safe!”
They told her what happened, and her face grew long and serious. “It isn’t so bad. You wounded it. No one has ever done that before.”
The children nodded.
“You did a very brave thing. Very brave.” And she pulled them to her. When she released them, Hansel said, “Where’s Father?”
“He locked himself in his room while you were gone,” the queen replied. “He was so scared for you both that he was shaking. He said he tried to shave, but he cut himself. Quite seriously, it seems.
“Will he be okay?” Gretel asked.
“I’ll be fine.” Their father’s voice echoed from across the hall. He limped toward them, a bandage wrapped around his head. He took them in his arms. “Foolish of me, shaving at a time like this. It calms me down when the barber does it.... But forget about your foolish father. You’re all right?” He saw the dragon-blood on Gretel. “What happened to you? What is that stuff?”
So they all went and sat before the fire, and Hansel and Gretel told him about it, too. “You were very brave,” he said when they’d finished. “And you nearly did a very great thing. You nearly saved this kingdom from the dragon.”