Chapter 14
“The man walked over to a bay mare, pulling a halter out of one of the deep pockets in his overalls, a halter with long straps of leather attached on either side. He put the halter on the mare and tossed the ends of the straps across her neck. Then he spoke in a low voice and the mare followed him to Missie.
“‘Up you go,’ he said and cupped his hands.
“Automatically, Missie put her knee in his hands and let him lift her onto the mare’s warm back. She picked up the reins, but her heart lurched. How could she leave? She never wanted to leave. In her distress, she started to slide off the horse, but the man shook his head.
“‘Missie, I have brought you to my mountain world because the people here are beginning to forget what I did for them in your world. I want you to remind them.’
“She heard his words with dread. The wave of fever had gone for now, but it would return. It always did. She couldn’t do anything important. She couldn’t do anything at all.
“‘I…I’m not sure…’
“He put his hands over hers and smiled.
“‘Don’t be afraid. I am the Healer.’
“When he drew back, the mare left at a canter.
“‘No,’ Missie whispered, wanting to pull back on the reins, but the horse snorted at her and she didn’t.
“Instead, she watched the man over her shoulder until trees blocked her view. Then she faced forward again, took a deep breath, and wiped her eyes. She wouldn’t think about the job he had given her. She’d think about being in another world.
“What were the differences between this world and her old one? Wait a minute. Wasn’t the sky a different shade of blue? Those leaves were an odd shape, weren’t they—and don’t forget that bright blue bird. No bird sang like that in her old world.
“‘The lizards are different here too,’ she said with conviction.
“The mare strode purposefully along, changing directions with an air of confidence. Missie was content to go wherever she was taken, but certain parts of her body were aching before they finally entered another clearing. This one had a cottage with a big garden in front of it and small outbuildings behind it. Hens were pecking around one of the outbuildings. A rooster on the roof ruffled his feathers importantly before settling down.
“The bay mare walked to the cottage’s front porch and stopped. A rocking chair sat on the porch, rose vines grew on the railings, and a yellow cat lay on the steps. Missie stared, taking it all in, until the mare flattened her ears and shifted her weight. She didn’t snort, but Missie couldn’t help thinking she was about to.
“‘Okay, okay, I’m getting off,’ the young woman said.
“Sliding to the ground, she lowered herself to the step beside the yellow cat. Cautiously, she stroked its back. The cats at the manor had snarled and hissed when she tried to pet them, but a low rumble began in this cat’s chest, and it rubbed one side of its head against her hand.
“When Missie straightened again, it was to see her horse quietly disappearing into the forest.
“‘Hey, where are you going?’ she called out.
“The mare snorted loudly and broke into a run. In seconds, she was out of sight.
“Missie sprang to her feet, but there wasn’t anything she could do. She’d never catch up with a horse. Besides, she liked it here. The cat was friendly, the garden needed work, and she wanted to see the inside of the cottage.
“The door was open and nobody answered when she called, so she hesitantly walked into a sitting room with a short hallway that led to the kitchen. A staircase climbed from the kitchen to a bedroom that contained a soft old armchair and a bed.
“A puffy comforter lay on the bed, turned back as if waiting for someone to crawl under it. Missie felt a strong urge to do just that, but she made herself open the closet door instead. Inside were two skirts, two blouses, and a nightgown. She could tell that they would fit her perfectly. A pair of gardening shoes was on the closet floor. They were her size.
“Trembling, she made her way to the armchair and collapsed into it. ‘I am living a fairy tale,’ she whispered and put a hand over her pounding heart.
“The next two weeks were reassuringly normal. Missie swept and dusted the cottage. She scrubbed the outhouse, fed the chickens, and cleaned their coop, wondering daily how such small animals could make such a big mess. The garden needed to be weeded—and all the work had to be done within her limited periods of energy. Whenever she had a coughing fit or felt feverish, she rested; however, as the days went by, her energy grew.
“One of the vines on the porch railing had rose buds that bloomed gloriously red. There were other vines mingled with the one that had flowered, and their buds looked as if they’d be different colors. Missie enjoyed sitting on the porch and guessing what color would bloom next. Eventually, an evening came when she felt strong enough to take a stroll in the garden after supper instead of going straight to bed.
“The shadows lengthened. A few stars began to show. Without warning, a gaunt old man lunged out of the forest and stalked toward her.
“‘Understand the rules, girl. Understand the rules. This clearing is protected during the day, and I have to give you one warning, but if you’re out again at night, I can take you away. Then you’ll find out what I do to trespassers.’
He laughed wildly.
“Missie spun about and fled toward the cottage. Her hands were shaking so violently she could barely turn the doorknob. With a desperate whimper, she got the door open, darted inside, and closed it with a bang. There was a latch on the inside that she had never used, but she used it now. Then she ran upstairs and hid on the floor of her closet.
“At first, her heart thumped loudly enough to drown out everything else. How could she tell if that old man was breaking into the cottage if she couldn’t hear anything? Curling into a ball, she tried to breathe normally. The minutes passed. Gradually, her heart slowed to its usual quiet beating. There weren’t any sounds out of the ordinary. Tree frogs droned on and on. A bird chirped sleepily.
“‘Nothing happened,’ she told herself. ‘It’s a rule, that’s all—not to go outside when it’s dark.’
“Missie didn’t sleep well that night, but on the whole, her life continued in the peaceful pattern she had come to love, though she was always very careful to be inside the cottage before nightfall.
“‘Every fairytale has its unpleasant part,’ she said once to the cat, who looked at her noncommittally.
“Three more weeks passed. The red roses on the railing petered out and pink ones opened, filling the porch with their fragrance. White buds would undoubtedly open next, because they were fat and beginning to burst apart. The hundreds of tight yellow buds would bloom last, but Missie was already anticipating them. Yellow was her favorite color.
“She was feeling much better. The cough and fever were things of the past. Every day she woke with a zest for living that she hadn’t felt since her parents died. It wasn’t hard for her to be by herself. Missie had been hurt so deeply by people in her old world that she didn’t mind living alone the rest of her life. She didn’t realize that this too was something that needed healing.
“One afternoon, she sat down in the sitting room with a cup of hot tea. Purring loudly, the cat jumped onto her lap. At the same time, someone knocked on the front door. For a second, Missie didn’t react. Then she swallowed convulsively.
“A voice called out, ‘Hello, is anyone home?’
“Putting her cup down with trembling hands, Missie stood, unceremoniously dumping the cat onto the floor. It protested with a grumbling mew, then headed over to the door and rubbed against it.
“‘Hello,’ came the voice again.
“It was a young man’s voice, which was not in its favor as far as Missie was concerned, but it sounded friendly. The cat was stretching up toward the doorknob now. Impatiently, it turned its head toward Missie and meowed.
“Walking bravely over, Missie opened the door, though she hid behind it. Her eyes peeked around the edge, and the young man on the porch said, ‘Don’t be afraid. I am Prince Reidan, and I have come to rescue you from this horrible place.’
“‘I like it here,’ she responded right away. How dare he call her cottage a horrible place!
“Reidan was puzzled. ‘We received word that the Stalker had trapped someone in the forest cottage.’
“‘Oh, him. I forgot about him.’
“The puzzlement deepened on the prince’s face, making Missie laugh despite herself.
“‘Come in,’ she said. ‘I’ll get you a cup of tea.’
“She led him into the kitchen and gave him tea. He took it strong with plenty of honey. Missie retrieved her cup and they went to sit on the porch, the prince settling quite happily on the top step with his sword leaning against the railing.
“For an hour or two, they looked out over the garden and talked. Finally, the cat stood, stretched, and then paused invitingly, one foot poised in midair, ready to go down the steps.
“‘Let’s go too,’ Missie suggested. ‘I’ll show you this horrible place.’
“She showed the prince everything, from the garden to the chickens to the tool shed. Even the outhouse received a visit, and the prince commented politely on its flowers. It would have been hard to say who took the most pleasure out of the tour, Missie or the cat, which followed them everywhere, waving its tail proudly in the air.
“The garden lay mellow in late afternoon sunshine when they went inside to make a pot of soup for supper. Missie baked apple crumble for dessert, using nuts and honey for the topping. Afterward, they returned to the porch and sat in comfortable silence. The prince was the first to speak.
“‘It’s a very pleasant place,’ he said with a sideways glance at Missie and a grin, ‘but it’s not right for you to be trapped, even in a place you like. Tonight, I will challenge the Stalker. If he captures people at night, he should be easier to find then.’
“Missie shuddered though she didn’t try to talk him out of it. It was what he had to do. They continued to sit together, though their silence didn’t feel comfortable any longer. Evening fell, throwing huge tree shadows over the clearing. At last, Reidan strapped on his sword.
“‘I’ll see you in the morning,” he said as he left.
“That was a miserable night. Sleep was out of the question. Missie wrapped herself in the comforter and sat in the old armchair. It wasn’t until early morning that she dozed off for a few minutes.
“When the birds started singing, she sprang to her feet and ran downstairs to fix breakfast for two. Walking onto the porch, she peered through the morning mists before rushing back to the kitchen to cover the food so it would stay warm. Then she wandered through the cottage to the porch to peer through the mists again, before returning to the kitchen for a cup of tea.
“It was hard to stay in one place. Missie lost count of how many trips she made between the kitchen and porch. Finally Reidan pushed his way out of the forest. He was unharmed except for several deep scratches.
“‘The Stalker is dead,’ he called and told Missie his story as she led him inside and took care of his scratches.
“After I entered the wood, I changed my plan. I realized that I couldn’t hope to surprise the Stalker in trees he knew better than I did, and it was important not to give him time to throw one of his paralyzing powders in my face. He was reported to live under the wood’s mountain, so I went straight there and scouted about until I found a door at the bottom of a rocky cliff. Then I hid nearby. My plan worked up to a point. When he showed up in the early morning gloom, I leaped out of hiding and challenged him.
“‘He drew his sword, but then instead of using it to fight me, he withdrew into his cave. I followed quickly, thinking he was on the run, but stopped short as soon as I stepped inside. I had made a big mistake. The Stalker had thrust his sword into a large urn full of a glowing red paste and was pulling it out, thickly coated and glowing so brightly it hurt my eyes. He pointed the sword toward the ceiling and shook it. Instantly, the paste burst into flames that exploded upward, charring the rafters of the roof.’
“‘Then he lowered the blistering flames toward me. I leaped backward, lost my balance, and fell to the ground outside the cave. He laughed at my futile attempt to escape, but before the flames could reach me, a giant crashing noise startled both of us. I was able to scrabble backward out of harm’s way, but the Stalker was not so fortunate. The rafters he had burned collapsed on top of him, carrying with them a ton of dirt and rocks. He was buried in his own home.’
Missie shuddered, finished cleaning Reidan’s scratches, and told him to rest on the sofa in the sitting room while she put breakfast on the table. When she returned, the prince was fast asleep. She tiptoed away and, hungry with relief, ate the whole breakfast herself. Then she went about her day’s work, scrubbing the chicken coop, weeding a few garden spots, straightening up around the cottage, and taking a much-needed nap upstairs.
Early in the evening, Reidan woke feeling refreshed and hungry. He ate ten scrambled eggs and almost that many pieces of toast covered with strawberry jam before pushing back from the table.
“‘I must return to my people,’ he said. ‘They’ll be worried. I wish you would come with me, Missie. My mother would make you very welcome. I know you like it here, but … I wish you would come.’
“Before Missie could reply, the hens started squawking and there was the thud of galloping hooves. Missie and Reidan hurried out to the porch, where they found two horses blowing and snorting in front of the cottage.
“‘Hello again,’ Missie greeted the bay mare who had brought her to the cottage.
“‘The Maker’s horses,’ Reidan said in astonishment. ‘Two of them,’ he added, glancing hopefully at Missie.
“‘Yes, well, I think so,’ she said.
“They left soon after that. Missie spent several minutes trying to coax the cat into coming with her, but it wiggled out of her arms and plopped down on the porch floor as if to say, ‘This is where I belong!’ Then it watched them leave with the bored interest only a cat can show.
“Night had fallen by then, and the stars were bright overhead. Missie took a deep breath of the cool night air, reveling in her freedom. She and the prince cantered along the garden walk, but she couldn’t resist reining in at the forest’s edge and looking back at the cottage. She would never see the yellow roses now, but that was okay. There would be other flowers. A deep feeling of thankfulness welled up in her heart.
“‘Come,’ Reidan said gently, ‘let’s go home.’
“They entered the forest and began a new adventure together.”