But whenever she closed her eyes, she would see that child with Oskar’s bright blue eyes. She would hear that little voice calling, Mama, Mama, and feel that tiny hand reaching trustingly for her own. And she would know, with every painful beat of her heart, that it was not real.
That it would never, ever be real.
Unless…
Before her courage could fail her, Agnes picked up the cup and sipped. Within the tonic, she tasted secrets she had never told a living soul, winter nights by the fire as her mother combed her hair, and lullabies with words she had long forgotten. Her entire life passed down her throat, burning her insides, and she felt an overwhelming rush of both joy and melancholy.
“Two more sips,” Mathilda encouraged her, and Agnes tipped the cup to her mouth again. The liquid scalded her all the way down, and she gasped for breath and then, at a nod from Mathilda, took her final sip. The cup slipped from her hand, and she only vaguely registered Mathilda catching it before it could shatter. “Good. How do you feel?”
“Fine,” Agnes said, though her head swam and the cottage seemed to be tilted on its side. She looked around in a daze and noticed that the velvet over the mantel had slipped a bit more, revealing a dark glimmer as though oil and canvas did not hang there, but a sheet of silvery glass.
“The tonic will make you a bit drowsy, so let’s get you home,” Mathilda said kindly. She helped Agnes slip her arms into the sleeves of her coat and buttoned the front for her. “You’ll feel wonderful in the morning, with a great deal of energy. Come back at the same time tomorrow evening and I’ll have your second dose ready, all right?”
“All right.” Agnes’s knees wobbled as she opened the door. She had never had a sip of ale in her life, but thought this might be what it felt like to be drunk. “Tomorrow evening.”
The walk back down the hill was a blur, and then she was home, where Oskar, pale and worried, helped her into a chair by the fire. He knelt in front of her, asking over and over if she was all right as she blinked away her confusion.
“I took the tonic,” she heard herself say. “I’m going back tomorrow night.”
“Do you have to?” Oskar asked tensely.
“Yes. What’s wrong?”
“Katharina Braun came a few minutes after you left. She must have just missed seeing you go up the hill, thank god. She brought us a chicken pie.” He pointed to a covered dish on the table with a desolate little laugh. “I had to make something up about where you were. I wanted to say you were in bed sick, but she would have wanted to come in and see you.”
The murky, dazed feeling dissipated, and in its place was fear. “What did you tell her?”
“That you had forgotten to buy something for supper and had to run into town.” Oskar ran a weary hand over his face. “She asked why she hadn’t passed you and I said you were still learning the routes, so perhaps you’d taken the wrong path. I don’t think she believed me.”
Agnes took one of his hands in hers and felt his pulse thundering. “You have no reason to lie that she knows of,” she said reassuringly. “And she accepted my story about the goat escaping and damaging Mathilda’s hedge. She hasn’t the faintest idea I went back up the hill.”
“But what am I going to say when she comes back tomorrow?” Oskar asked. “She and Sophie want to call on you and get your recipe for those molasses cookies. I can’t make excuses for two more nights….” He got up and paced before the fire, his features strained with anxiety. “They’re watching us now. They’re curious. And if they knew the truth…My god, Agnes, the way these women gossip. In the few minutes before I got rid of her, I heard all about a failed marriage, a truant child, and a family in ruin, and I didn’t even know who these people were! That’s how it will be when the Brauns find out you’ve been seeing the witch. It will be all over town.” He stopped pacing. “We have to leave Hanau.”
Agnes’s heart clenched at his helpless panic. “Oskar…”
“But how are we going to afford to leave?” he went on, raking his hands through his hair. “We spent every last penny on this cottage and the hired wagon for our furniture. Good god, I’ll have to go to Otto. I’ll have to swallow my pride and let him help us like he offered to….”
“Oskar!” Agnes cried, and he finally stopped talking. She got up and took his face in her hands. “Listen to me. There is no need to go to your brother for help or for us to leave Hanau. I truly believe Mathilda can help us. She’s given me hope for the first time in a long time, and I need to go back twice more. I need to finish taking this tonic. We can’t stop now.”
“If the Bergmanns or the Werners hear of it…”
“No one will hear. Because the friendship will not continue.” The words shocked Agnes, though they came from her own lips. She shivered, as though Mathilda might have somehow heard her. “I love you, Oskar. You are my husband and my priority. I wish there was another way. I wish I didn’t have to hurt Mathilda. But I don’t want to keep running, so I’ll end it with her.” She closed her eyes, picturing the gifts and messages that had made her so happy.
Oskar wrapped his arms tightly around her, his sobs muffled in her hair.
“I have to keep taking the tonic,” Agnes said, her voice breaking, and she felt Oskar nod. “Tomorrow morning, I will find Katharina and bring her my recipe. I’ll tell her I’m coming down with your cold and not to come over for supper until next week. That should hold her off. I will go back to Mathilda two more times, and then never again.”
“Thank you,” her husband whispered.
Agnes closed her eyes, feeling exhausted with the weight of the decision, the friend she would have to betray, and the consequences—unknown and uncontrollable—that she would have to face for her broken promise. Where magic gives, Mathilda had explained, it can also take—in ways that no one can foresee.
But it was a sacrifice Agnes had to make for Oskar, and for the family they hoped to have. It was the only thing she could tell herself to make it feel any better.
To my lovely friend Agnes:
I was expecting you last night! I hope nothing is the matter. I wanted to see how you were feeling after taking the third dose. Sometimes the tonic can make you feel sick to your stomach. I’m worried that this is the case, since you have always come when you said you would.
Here is a package to make you feel better, with some mild biscuits and hard candies I purchased for you in Hainburg, along with my own ginger tea and honey. Please drink plenty of tea and water and get rest, and do not worry about writing me back until you feel better.
With great affection,
Mathilda
To my dearest Agnes:
How did you fare with the biscuits and candy? Did the ginger tea help? I hope you’ve been able to keep food down, poor thing. I think you must be very ill indeed, since it has been five days without any response. Here is another blanket I made for you. Stay warm!
This snowstorm is truly horrible, and if it weren’t for that and my fear of annoying Oskar, I would have come down to see you already. Please write back when you can.
Your concerned friend,
Mathilda