Breath (9781439132227) Read Free

black.”
    â€œAll black?” His voice hushes to a whisper. “You mean be a devil’s piper?”
    â€œIt’s not shameful.”
    â€œSo, that toad really was your familiar.”
    â€œYes.”
    He shakes his head. “I’m just an ordinary Christian piper. And what about you? You said you study with a priest, so how can you belong to a coven?”
    â€œWe’re papists in our coven—we follow the pope. We practice the good magic of the old religion, merging it with the enlightenment of the newreligion.” I stop for breath. “We are soldiers of Christ.”
    â€œChristians can’t abide pagan ways.”
    â€œWhy not? Pagan ways with nature do no harm. No one has reason to fear us—no one decent, at least.”
    He shakes his head harder.
    â€œEven the priests consult us, I swear. When things go really wrong, they come to us. Don’t be fooled by black clothing: We wear it only out of tradition.” I don’t even know if what I say is true. I’m not sure why we wear black. Many things about the coven are secrets from me, for when I ask, the supreme head says I’m too young to know. He let me join when Großmutter asked, because she’s the oldest member and, as such, commands respect. And because he doesn’t think I’ll be a member for long.
    â€œYou risk your soul,” says the piper.
    â€œThat’s the one thing I don’t risk. My name is Salz.”
    He pushes his bottom lip forward in confusion. “They named you after food salt?”
    â€œNot originally. I was christened Siefried.” I wipe the sweat that remains on my brow and hold out my hand. “Lick it.”
    He pulls back slightly in surprise. But then he licks. He wrinkles his nose. “You could salt a vat of gruel.”
    â€œThe priest at Höxter renamed me. He says it’s better to face your afflictions than to pretend they don’t exist. So I’m S-A-L-Z.
S
for soul’s salvation;
A
for activity and ability;
L
for loyalty and light heartedness;
Z
for zeal in making money. The letters A, L, and Z are wishful thinking. Other children salty like me die before they’re useful. But the letter S was in my christened name too. It belongs to me.” I wipe my hand on my smock. “So you see, my soul is guaranteed salvation.”
    â€œI don’t know anything about letters,” he says softly, “but I pray you’re right.”
    I step closer to him. “Play your pipe for me. Please. Let me hear a little melody.” I smile in a way I hope is winning, for I am warming to him more and more. “A simple tune.”
    â€œBest to change my tune,” he says, and this time I’m sure of the intent of his pun. He picks up the pipe and tucks it in at the waist of his trousers. He slips his shirt on over his head. “If you pass through Hannover on your way to Magdeburg, listen for me.”
    â€œI might,” I say, a little hurt. “But I won’t stop.”
    He laughs. “If you hear me, you’ll stop. I’ll be playing people music this time. No one will be able to resist.” He throws his sack over his shoulder and walks through the forest, out of sight.

Meal
    Großmutter rolls the dough half a fingernail thick and twice the length of the pan. I take one end, she takes the other, and we lift it like a sheet, lining the pan, snugging it into the corners. The ends hang over the sides of the pan. It overlaps on both ends by an equal amount. The center sits empty, waiting for the filling.
    Großmutter minces fennel and lovage, leeks and dried apples, while I work on the birds. I pluck them good and rinse them in the basin of cold water. They are spring fat. I slit the belly down to the anus and stick in my finger. I scoop out the liver and peel away the little sack from its side, careful not to rip it, or the bitter green bile will taint the meat. The sack goes in the waste