Going into the cottage was something else. As a hovel, it was a tightly cramped room, where a massive stove took up one side and two alcoves: one for the witch's bed and the other held a table with benches.

"Sit, boy."

Olbrecht wanted to argue that he was a man well-grown, but the monster towered over him. From her perspective, he was a child.

She sloshed a full bowl down in front of him as he took off his helm—it smelled edible, and like the military-minded man he was, he ate mechanically, not thinking.

A rat crawled up to his knee. After having so many weird creatures help him, he assumed this would be normal behavior until he was free of this accursed realm, so he fed it a bit of meat from his bowl.

The rat bowed and warned him before running away. "Don't take off the armor to sleep. She will crush you if you do."

What would she do, sit on him?

After finishing his meal, the room began to haze over, the old woman cleaning took on even more gargantuan shapes. Shadows danced in her skirts, crackling in harmony with the fire in the ancient stove. It crashed to a halt when the old woman knocked over a jar of oats with her clothes. Shrieking, she hauled Olbrecht to his feet and tossed him at the grains. "Pick it all up!"

Then she fled out the door.

The rat came back out as soon as the door slammed, tisking at the witch's behavior. "I'm surprised she had enough time to throw you in the pile."

"What was that about?" Olbrecht sat up, still trying to process how he went from nearly sleeping to being on the floor.

"Many monsters are cursed to count every single grain that is spilled. She is very strong to have resisted long enough to flee."

"Fuck, I'm going to have to spill grains all around when the time comes, aren't I?"

"It gave the young men before you half an hour, sir. They are still the bones outside. Go ahead back to the bench and let her herbs lull you to sleep. You'll just get in the way down here."

Never in his life did Olbrecht think he'd be seen as useless by a rodent. It was not a pleasant thing.

Still, he did as he was told, for now—putting back on his helmet and pulling the visor down. He passed out without registering that the witch had drugged him.

~~~

Olbrecht woke to the creaking of his suit of armor, putrid breath beating at the slits in his visor. The barest tips of the fingers were making their way in through the crevice. The creature muttered to itself, "Where are all the soft bits? Is it a healthy fleshing or is it skin and bones? Needs fattening? Ah, should have fed it pig, not bear. Damn codpiece is painful to sit on. I'll beat the next blacksmith I find..."

A sickly-sweet stench filled his lungs as she got up off him, and he couldn't remember a thing more until dawn.

~~~

He sat up after hearing the thud of coarse earthenware on the table as she placed a hearty porridge made of oats and cheese in front of him. Not an ideal combination, but he had eaten worse fare in his travels.

That's when he took off his helm again, to ease his discomfort.

"Here, go milk that cow with this sieve." The witch threw the colander at him, nearly knocking over his meal. "I need to make more cheese."

Olbrecht stared at it, not even responding before the creature flounced out of the hut again. As everything she told him to do had been mostly taken care of by animals, he didn't see the point in getting up until he finished. Besides the bowl had holes in it. Did the witch not own a bucket?

As no animals pestered him, he took his sweet time finishing the meal.

~~~

Olbrecht walked out with his helm under one arm and the sieve in his free hand. Immediately the chatter of the birds nearby started in on his movements.

"Knight took shiny off head!"

The witch cackled from overhead, which caused Olbrecht to notice that the hut was far taller than it was when he was on the steps. He looked down. Bird's legs. The lumpy sodden gingerbread mess could move.

"What madness..." Olbrecht caught himself this time, cleared his throat, and addressed the witch far above him. "Madame, I shouldn't have fallen asleep in your personal space. That was rude of me. I will sleep in the barn from now on."

"Good, I could use a horse!" The witch's spit landed next to his foot as she cracked a whip and caused the house to run off erratically. It couldn't follow a straight path without eyes to see, and the monster cursed at it to straighten out several times as it nearly stumbled. Despite that, its speed was incredible, displaying the fact that a half-hour head start wouldn't be enough to escape the witch.

He bit his lip to not say it yet again. Instead, he turned and made his way into the barn. "Cow, I need to relieve myself but was told not to take off my armor. What do you suggest?"

The cow swallowed her cud. "What, not asking me how to milk in a sieve?"

"Every time I start to do a task, some animal just takes over and I stand there looking like an idiot—and I need to piss."

The cow rolled its eyes. "If the witch ran off in her hut, take your armor and place it in my stall—not the free one—and walk me out to the pond with that strainer. There should be an outhouse on the way."

"Am I allowed to take you out?"

"How far could I get from her?"

"And I will be safe leaving my armor here?"

"Ravens will steal it at the pond. She eats bigger animals and the pond is her territory. They fear her too much for you to need your armor. "

Olbrecht didn't waste much time, chucking his gear off in the tight space and dropping it behind the cow. "So, why don't I place it in the empty stall?"

"Did she say something weird to you before she left?"

"She said she could use a horse."

"Then don't use the other stall."

Now what did the cow mean? Would she ride him like she did her house? Or would he become an animal?

A few frustrated grunts later, he had the worst of his armor off and brought the cow on the path to the pond—where there was an outhouse and he felt relief for the first time since entering this world.

As they reached the pond, some of the ducklings saw the colander in his hand and began singing as they attacked each other in play, "Daub in clay! Stuff in straw!"

The cow was drinking after she parted the cattails, but Olbrecht still talked to her, since she seemed to have more sense than the ducklings. "So, if I shove dirt and straw in the bottom of this thing it will hold more milk—won't that foul the milk?"

The cow almost choked before she pulled her head back up. "The only safe pot that creature owns is that clay sieve. Did you eat last night?"

"Crow said it was bear."

"Yes, but she eats man's flesh and is not clean. I couldn't eat her cooking."

Olbrecht fought against vomiting for a few minutes before speaking. "I need to go home."

"Quite a few of those men felt the same way, and they are dead."

"I need to get that door open."

"Well, you need to find the axe and chop off my head, place it on my tailbone, if you want that."

" That is madness..." He grumbled before objecting. "I have a sword. I have beheaded a man before. Why do I need to wait for an axe?"

"Because the axe can do it in one stroke and the cut will be cleaner."

Olbrecht growled in frustration, but instead chose to gather some clay by the pond, then started a makeshift fire a deal further back with his flint and the cattails' heads. He blended a head of fluff into the clay and made a disk that he shoved in the bottom of the sieve before placing it inside the little fire.

The cow came over to look at his work. "Well, that's new."

"I'm not good at making pottery, but I've had to repair things temporarily." He shifted to face this fire, arms over his knees. It also afforded him a chance to look at the cow. "It will hold long enough to carry milk back to the witch."

"The witch isn't giving you much work."

"Do you know what a fairy tale is?"

"I'm a cow."

"It's a story meant for children that only gives a tiny view of the lives of the people. Well, the witch is working from a tiny story. Something that could take years of living is told as if it's all done in a single day. But I will say that I cannot wait on this axe, and you may have to make do with my sword, cow."

"Tomorrow. If she doesn't give it to you by tomorrow." The cow shook her head. "Without the axe, running wouldn't be possible. But we aren't running away, are we?"

"Yeah..." The small fire was already dying out, and the walk back would give the sieve time to cool, so he stood and pulled his wool sleeve over his hand to grab the handle furthest out of the fire. "Come along to that shed. Might as well be done with it."