One Witch at a Time by Stacy DeKeyser Page A

whispering mattered now.
    Rudi brushed the dust out of his hair with one hand, and sucked on the bloody knuckle of the other.
    Agatha helped him to his feet. “We should go. Now.”
    â€œThe beans,” he gasped. “Did you—”
    But his words were interrupted by a sound. It started low and far away.
    Fummm.
    Susanna’s eyes grew wide. “Rudi? What was that?”
    Rudi swallowed a lump the size of a hen’s egg. “I’m not sure. . . .”
    â€œIt’s time to go,” said Agatha grimly, and she vaulted over the stone wall.
    Fummm. . . . Fummm. The low sound was louder now, and closer. Rudi wasn’t sure if he heard it with his ears or felt it with his body, or both. He grabbed Susanna and heaved her over the wall into Agatha’s arms.
    Fummm. . . . Fummm. . . . FUMMM.
    â€œRudi! Hurry!” Susanna yelped.
    Rudi hoisted the squawking sack onto his shoulder and scrambled over the wall.
    FUMMM. . . .
    The sound was coming from inside the manor house. And it was most definitely getting closer. Agatha was already sprinting for the hedge.
    Rudi grabbed Susanna’s hand. “Run!”

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    Rudi and Susanna raced across the meadow after Agatha. If they could reach the shelter of the hedge before the Giant caught sight of them, they might have a chance to escape.
    FUMMM. . . .
    They dived through an opening in the hedge just as new sounds came to Rudi’s ears. A door slamming. A voice bellowing in the open air. “Who dares to invade my home? Where is the thief whose blood is spilled on my doorstep?”
    Rudi’s breath caught in his throat. His scraped knuckle stung and throbbed, but it hardly bled at all.
    So that story is true too, Rudi thought.
    He sprinted along the narrow pathway between the hedge and the wall. He could barely keep Agatha insight ahead of him, but he dared not let go of Susanna’s hand. And the chicken was heavy, and the sack bounced on his shoulder and kept catching on the brambles in the hedge.
    FUMMM. . . .
    Just when Rudi thought he might collapse from effort, the small wooden door came into view. Agatha was already there, struggling with the latch. As Rudi and Susanna caught up with her, the latch gave way and Agatha wrenched the door open. She pushed Rudi and Susanna through and then followed them out, slamming the door behind her and plunging them into winter once more.
    The cold air slapped Rudi’s face like an icy hand. He gasped and coughed as the cold filled his lungs. He buttoned his coat as best he could.
    â€œTo the beanstalk!” Agatha shouted over the howling wind.
    â€œBut your papa!” said Susanna. “He’s waiting for us! We promised him!”
    Agatha shook her head. “That’s the first place the Giant will look. He will kill us if he finds us, and Papa, too!” She grabbed Susanna’s hand and started across the slope.
    â€œWait!” Rudi remembered exactly where the beanstalk stood. Down the slope, past the village, behind a clump of trees. He had committed it tomemory for just this circumstance. “This way!” He pulled Susanna in the opposite direction.
    â€œDon’t be silly!” said Agatha, pulling even harder, until Rudi thought poor Susanna might be torn in two.
    FUM. . . .
    There was no time to argue. This was Agatha’s mountain. Perhaps she knew a shortcut. Or a roundabout way, so as not to lead the Giant through the village and past her father’s house.
    FUM. . . .
    Rudi had no choice. He followed Agatha.
    They hurried across the slope, in the opposite direction from the way they had come. In a moment another hedge came into view, half-hidden in the icy fog.
    But it was not a hedge. It was the beanstalk, and it was nowhere near the place where Rudi had thought it would be. How had be become so disoriented? But after the horrible confusion of the last few moments,