Ian and Jamie moved through the woods, faster now that Ian was getting the method down. Jamie asked him a few questions in his nervous, squeaky voice, but Ian was too focused on other things to even note what he had said.

  Until an abrupt change in his tone broke through Ian’s concentration. “Ian, do you smell something sweet?” The Boy sniffed the air, his eyes set, apparently too surprised and confused to be frightened for the moment.

  “Hm?” What was that? There was a sweetness there, but not fruity. “I don’t think it’s fruit. What else would be sweet in the woods?”

  “It’s not just sweet,” said Jamie. This was true. There was something else odd about the scent. Sharp. Not unpleasant. “Spice. Sweet with spice, like—”

  “Little girls?”

  “What? No. What are you—no. Like a spice cake. Or a spiced drink. Or a cinnamon roll or pumpkin pie.” There were really a lot of things it could be, but none Ian would expect to find here.

  “If there’s a secret bakery hidden in the woods, they must be having quite a day.’

  “No. We’d smell bread.”

  Ian rolled his eyes and returned his attention to withering the vines that grasped at their ankles. Their progress had slowed.

  “Wait,” said Jamie.

  “No,” said Ian, continuing on.

  “Bread… yes. Gingerbread. It’s gingerbread!”

  Why would there be gingerbread in the woods? The suggestion was preposterous, and the worst part was that Ian had to admit Jamie was probably right. It did smell like gingerbread.

  “Where is that coming from?” It was getting stronger, so the answer seemed to be in the direction they were moving. From the direction of the next life force.

  Ian pushed aside a branch, and stopped abruptly as he realized he could see a dark shape ahead. More tree trunks growing close together, like where he’d found Jamie trapped? No. That was a wall. A wooden wall.

  “Is that the house we’re looking for?” Jamie asked him.

  “Must be.” The ginger cookie smell was coming from there. “It’s not Esme baking, it can’t be.”

  “Why would she bake cookies?” asked Jamie, “And she didn’t have any ingredients. Nothing in that house could be any good if it’s been standing empty so long.”

  “It can’t be. We haven’t been apart from her for long enough.”

  Ian grabbed at some of the leafy vines hanging down in their way and channeled fire and withering magic into them. The vines disintegrated, and the tree from which they hung cracked as the blight spread. Good! Served it right.

  The house in front of them came into clear view.

  “It’s gingerbread!” said Jamie.

  “Yes, we’ve already—oh.” The smell of gingerbread wasn’t coming from the house’s windows as fresh cookies baked inside. It was coming from the entire house. Those walls weren’t wooden after all; they were built from huge slabs of gingerbread. “Where do you find an oven big enough to bake those cookies?”

  The house was held together with what looked like icing, and decorated with huge candies. Jamie’s stomach growled. “Do not eat that!” said Ian sharply.

  “Obviously!” said Jamie, his own voice rising as his face flushed, “That’s a trap. But who’d be stupid enough to—”

  “Montague!” Ian hurried forward, and Jamie followed in his wake. Ian heroically kicked the door, which shuddered slightly.

  Jamie just looked at him. “Maybe I could make you stronger? That’s not a spell I’ve practiced, but it’s well within my, uh, my…” His voice trailed off as he looked at the Villain, glowering at the door and gritting his teeth. “I’ll just, um, stand back?”

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  “Excellent choice.” Ian took a step back too. He glared at the door. “Impudent cookie! How dare you bar my way?”

  Jamie blinked. “Impudent, uh, cookie?” Ian turned and snarled at him. “Sir?”

  That took some of the wind from his sails, which was unfortunate. “I’m trying to work myself up. This isn’t a kind of spell I have a lot of practice with, either, but I think fire? Yes, fire is linked to anger. Ian glared at the door. It was a rectangular slab of gingerbread, and would ave been by far the largest cookie Ian had ever seen if he wasn’t currently looking at the rest of the wall. It was… cute. There was a wreath of flowers drawn in pink and green icing, and the doorknob was also iced.

  “Let me just try…” Jamie squeaked past him and grasped the doorknob. “Maybe we don’t need… oh. Ew.”

  The doorknob was just a gob of icing, now all over Jamie’s hand. He went to wipe it off on his clothing, thought better of it and tried to wipe it on the grass, and then proceeded to wipe it clean on his clothing after all. He started to like his palm. “Do not ingest that!” Jamie started, and, abashed, continued to wipe his sticky hands on his robe. Hands? How had he gotten the second hand all sticky, too?

  Ugh. Ian wished he’d at least been saddled with smarter traveling companions.

  Though hang on. The doorknob was fake. Was the door even real? Ian stepped up. He did not foolishly stick his hand directly into the icing. Instead he drew his little knife and scraped some of it away. The lines of icing that marked out the rectangular edges of the door came off easily enough, and Ian flicked it into the grass. Soon enough he had confirmed: There was no seam. The door was painted on.

  “No wonder I couldn’t knock it in.” Yes. That was the reason. Definitely. “We’ll have to break it open.”

  “If you smash the wall the entire house might come down.” Jamie had a point.

  “Do we care?”

  Jamie considered. “Not sure. We don’t know what’s inside, exactly. Other than one of our friends. Bringing the house down on her head might not be appreciated.”

  Ian sighed and led the way around, tracing the perimeter of the house. They found a back door and a side door, but scraping the icing away with Ian’s knife revealed the same truth. The doors were not real. There was no entrance. The back door had a “stained glass window” that was really just jelly candies pasted on with icing. But several of the panels were missing.

  Jamie picked up something from the grass. A half-eaten green jelly candy. “Montague’s bite, isn’t it?”

  Jamie looked carefully at the bite marks. He focused his eyes intently, but then they flicked over to Ian. “Why do you think I can tell her bite mark apart from anyone else’s?” Okay, fair question.

  “It’s human, at least?”

  “Could be.”

  “Could be?” Ian felt heat rising up within him again.

  “Or an elf! Or someone else that size and shape. It’s not a wild animal or a tiny fairy, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  Ian grunted and resumed their trek around the perimeter. There were several windows, but they were all decorative, painted in icing onto the solid gingerbread wall.

  “We do know one of them is in there, right?” Ian leaned against the pastry house.

  “Hm.” Jamie closed his eyes and breathed slowly (Ian withered the vines that threatened to grow over his ankles.) His eyes snapped open. “Yes. Well. Something living is, anyway. I think it’s them. Pretty sure.”

  Ian stared at the wall in front of him. He drove his knife into it. “Aha,” he said, “Now there’s a weak point.” Why hadn’t he done that right away?

  Grasping the knife, Ian pulled water up from the vegetation around him. A trickle became enough to flow, and he forced it into the small hole made by his knife. Then he expanded it, creating a crack. A more controlled crack then just punching the damn thing with elemental earth would have done. He carved an entrance into the wall, and then, for good measure, he kicked it in.

  “You’re getting better with elemental magic, Ian,” said Jamie, peeking into the new entrance, “Good for you!”

  It was, perhaps, a little more versatile. Ian could admit that. “Of course I am. I’m a master of magic.”

  They both stood at the entrance, staring in. It was dark. “After you,” said Ian.

  “You can make light with fire,” Jamie countered.

  “You can’t make a light? Ugh, you clearly need more magical tutelage.”

  “Oh, thank you Ian!”

  “I didn’t mean… oh, never mind.” Ian conjured a handful of flames and they stepped into the house.

  The interior seemed more normal than Ian would have expected. It was furnished, and there were interior walls. Of course there were no windows, so everything was dark behind the light of the flame. Ian laid a hand on an end table. Sticky. Everything inside was also made of candy. And something else wasn’t right, though he couldn’t put a finger on it.

  “Ian, this room is wider on the inside than the whole house was.”

  Ah. That was it. “Let’s start searching, then. Don’t wander, Jamie. Stay with me.”