Everything changed after that. Everything had already changed, of course, but now it was open. Jorinda did not share my need for secrecy, and so freely and frequently displayed her love in public. She would loop her arm through mine, or entwine our fingers, or stand on her tiptoes and whisper seductively into my ear. At every dance, she would have no other partner, which was embarrassing because I couldn't dance at all. But however many times I stepped on her toes or stumbled in step, she would laugh heartily.

"You were serious," she told me after the fifth or sixth time. "You are awful."

I flushed. "I told you," I said defensively. "I asked you not to dance with me."

"Why do you worry about it so much?"

"People are watching. I don't like it."

She reached a finger up and tapped my nose. "If you don't care, you'll have much more fun."

I let out an exasperated sigh. "You should be dancing with someone who can," I told her.

"But I want to dance with you," she said. "Why don't you understand that? I want to be with you."

Then she leaned up and kissed me and I knew everyone was watching but all of a sudden I didn't care because I was here, in public, and Jorinda was kissing me…

Within a few days I was the most popular man in town. Men I had never talked to before asked me what Jorinda was like, how she thought, and every other thing I could think of.

The closest thing I had had to a friend before Jorinda, a boy by the name of Matthias, suddenly began accompanying me everywhere.

"Jorinda?" he asked me, without any preamble. "Really?"

I shrugged. "She chose me," I said. "I just got lucky."

"Pretty damn lucky, if you ask me. Every man in town wants to be you, even the married ones!"

I shrugged again. I didn't want to talk about it.

"Listen, Matthias, I've got work to do," I said. "The goats have been restless lately. I have to keep a sharp eye on them, or else they wander off."

"The goats are restless, or you're distracted?" he teased. "Eh, go on," he said, seeing my blush. "Those goats need someone to look after them." With a wink, he turned and left.

When I reached the top of the hill, Jorinda was waiting for me. She greeted me with a gentle kiss.

"I brought a picnic again," she told me. "But as soon as we're done, I have to leave. Elisbet wants me home to help with chores."

I couldn't resist her pout, and I kissed her again. The mayor's black ram took this opportunity to dash off toward the woods. I only caught a glimpse of his backside as I pulled away from Jorinda.

"What's wrong?" she asked, pulling me close.

"One of the goats. He's going into the woods," I said. "I'll be right back."

She caught my arm as I turned to walk away. "Don't be ridiculous! I'm coming with you."

"You don't have to. I'll only be a moment. Besides, the woods are dangerous."

"Dangerous? You don't believe the old wives' tales, do you?" I could hear laughter in her voice.

"That's why I have to go in alone. The witch is only after lovers. Which is what we are. So you have to stay here." I had never not done Jorinda's will before. Words stuck in my throat.

"What will I do here by myself?" she asked.

"You could watch the other goats," I suggested hopefully.

"They don't need watching. They're well-behaved. Let me come with you, Jorindel!"

The goat had long since vanished into the shadows of the forest. If I didn't go in now, I lost the goat and my best-paying customer. I surrendered.

"Fine. But listen to me. If the witch catches us, you wait for me, all right?"

Her face broke into a grin. "There is no witch, Jorindel."

"Promise!"

She sighed in exasperation and agreed. "I'll wait for you. No need to worry. Nothing is going to happen."

I wished I could be as sure as she. But I worked beside these woods. I was on their skirt every day. There was a feeling, a bad, evil feeling, that emanated from them. It was a feeling that made boys scream of wolves where there were none, that made goose boys imagine their assistants as princesses. There was evil in that wood, and I knew it.

"Well, what are you waiting for? I have to be back in the afternoon," Jorinda said, grabbing my hand and pulling me after her. "You're not really worried about the witch, are you?"

The witch. I had heard stories of her for as long as I could remember. She lived in this vast forest, and for whatever reason, she detested young lovers. No one understood why, but everyone knew how she manifested her hatred.

Her system was quite ingenious, for it left no room for error. Any pair of lovers within a hundred paces of her castle was set upon by her spells. The boys she turned to living stone- alive, thinking, but unable to move or speak. The punishment for the maidens was more severe. Them she turned into birds, whatever bird seemed to suit them best, and she caged them and took them away into her castle. No one was quite sure what happened once the birds were in there, for none emerged to tell the tale.

According to the stories, the witch adored birds. She loved their songs, I assume, and that was why she collected them. However, the birds had a habit of growing old, and of dying, and then the witch had no use for them except as dinner. Of course, the witch always had a supply of birds, for as one died, another was captured, and so her cycle continued and she was content.

The men she returned for, usually at the next dusk. One could never be sure where she was, for she could change her shape as easily as we change our clothes. She might be the owl in the tree, or perhaps the fox in the bush, or the spider on the ground- one never knew.

Mockingly she would release the youth. The men always told of how they had begged so desperately for their lover's life, and how the witch had laughed and declared they would never see them again.

Many, hearing this, gave up hope immediately and decided to seek out a new bride. Their lives remained normal, and they worked at their jobs and raised healthy families, warning their children ever not to venture near the witch's castle.

Some, however, decided that nothing could keep them from their love, and charged again and again at the castle in the vague hopes of rescuing her. Of course, every time they approached they were again as stone, and had to wait until the witch freed them, laughing again. These men ended with three fates: they were finally left unfreed by the witch, and became stone; they went mad; or they killed themselves. So said the village elder, and these were the most fearsome stories of the witch.

I shook these thoughts out of my head. The witch wasn't real. She was naught but a story, a tale told the scare young children. If Jorinda wasn't afraid, I wouldn't be. I squeezed her hand and walked with her into the shade of the trees.

So chapter two. This story has been un-completed, so now you can alert it and look forward to updates and all that wonderful stuff.

Review please?

~~Mazzie~~