“The oven!” Rosa cried. “Pieter, the oven!” She ran over to the oven, knocked the red-hot latch open with a piece of firewood, and the doors swung apart, showing the interior, so blindingly hot that Giselle winced and looked away. That was when she saw the bread-peel, like a flat-bladed shovel with an iron blade and a long wooden handle, leaning up against the brick wall that held the oven. She ran to it and snatched it up as Pieter marched toward the oven, holding the Blood Witch out at arm’s length. The closer he got to the oven, the more she screamed. Giselle ran to his left side, as Rosa snatched up an ash-rake and converged on his right.

The heat from the fire was so intense it felt as if her skin was burning. Pieter shoved the screaming witch in through the oven doors, and as he pulled away, shaking his hands, Giselle and Rosa put their implements into the Blood Witch’s chest and shoved her all the way inside. They jumped back, and Pieter slammed the iron doors closed again and dropped the latch in place.

“Pieter!” Rosa exclaimed, dropping the rake to grab at one of his hands. “Are you . . .”

But Pieter chuckled. “Pieter not hurt. Pieter tough.” And sure enough, when Giselle examined his other hand, although there were scorch marks on it, he didn’t seem to have taken any real damage. Better than me . . . the skin on her face and hands felt very tender. On the other hand, we could be dead, so I think we got off easy. She was very glad Cody hadn’t been along. He probably would have tried something recklessly brave and gotten himself killed or badly wounded. Probably killed. He would have gallantly thrown himself in front of Rosa to protect her and just as gallantly been hacked to bits.

“Let’s get those children free,” Rosa said, patting his hand.

“Won’t they be as terrified of Pieter as they were of the Blood Witch?” Giselle asked, anxiously. But then she turned around, and saw that all of the children were now pressed up against the bars of their cages—saying nothing, but reaching out with yearning hands. The one little girl that had been free was huddled against the bars of the middlemost cage, eyes as big and round as teacups.

Giselle ran to the first cage. “It’s locked!” she said, rattling the door angrily. “And I’ll bet that wretched Witch had all the keys on her!”