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lost. By the time the sun began to sink behind the trees, she was sure of it.
    A wolf howled somewhere in the forest and Annie remembered the story she’d heard about a wolf following a little girl and eating her grandmother. She was considering climbing a tree for the night when she smelled wood smoke. Hoping to find the home of a woodcutter, she hurried toward the source of the smoke and entered a clearing, where she found a small cottage that hummed with magic. The candles flickering in the window looked ordinary enough and the magic didn’tsound like the nasty kind, so Annie tiptoed to the window and peeked inside.
    An old woman with white hair and the plump, sweet face of a kindly old grandmother carried food to two small children seated at a wide plank table. She used a cane when she walked, shuffling across the floor with an unsteady gait. When Annie bumped into the shutter, breaking off a corner, the children turned in their seats and stared at her through big, dark eyes set in pale faces. They were beautiful children with silky hair the color of walnuts and dark lashes framing their eyes, but their cheeks were dirty and tear streaked, and their clothes were soiled and torn. The boy looked as if he was a few years older than the girl, but their features were similar enough that Annie thought they must be siblings.
    The boy and girl appeared frightened at first, but when they saw Annie they looked at her for only a moment before shifting their attention back to the food on the table. The old woman had seen them turn their heads and had followed their gaze to Annie. She smiled now and said in a playful voice, “Nibble, nibble, little mouse. Who’s that nibbling at my house?”
    “I wasn’t nibbling,” Annie replied. “I just wanted to see if anyone was home.”
    “I’m here, so you’re welcome to come in. Children are always welcome, especially if they’re tired and hungry. I have some very yummy food cooking. It’s... What did I tell you it was, little boy?”
    “Rabbit stew.”
    “That’s right. And I’m just about to take a nice berry pie out of the oven. Come in, my dear, and make yourself at home.”
    Annie’s foot bumped something as she began to move away from the window. She bent down to see what it was and found a large chunk of striped candy. Picking it up, she realized that it was the piece of the shutter that had broken off. The air smelled like nutmeg and ginger. When she looked closer, she saw that the walls were made of gingerbread decorated with sugar dots and icing swirls.
    Annie frowned as she walked toward the open door. The humming of the magic was constant and reminded her of an old lullaby. It also reminded her that the old woman was probably a witch, yet there was no indication that she was a bad witch, at least none that Annie could hear.
    “Just call me Granny Bentbone, dear. So many people do.”
    “I’m Charlie,” Annie replied, hoping that the clothing she wore made her look enough like a boy to make the name believable.
    “Are you hungry, my sweet? I’m sure you must be,” the woman said, ushering Annie into the cozy kitchen. “I’ve cooked... what is it again?”
    “Rabbit stew,” said the boy.
    Annie paused for a moment to admire a peppermintstick that rose from floor to ceiling. It was as big around as her waist and looked like a support post put there to hold up the roof. She glanced up and saw that other sticks acted as beams to support the candy ceiling.
    “Won’t you join us, dear?” The woman gestured to a stool next to the one where the little girl was perched. The stools and the table were shorter than normal, as if they had been built for children or dwarves with small bottoms. Annie smiled at the little girl as she sat down. The girl’s lips parted in a shy smile, showing the gap of missing teeth. Seated on the other side of the girl, the boy nudged her and placed another piece of bread on her trencher, drawing her attention away from