A Retelling of Little Red Riding Hood
GIRL IN THE RED HOOD
Copyright 2015 by Brittany Fichter for Smashwords
All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is available in print from other online retailers.
Cover design by Armin Numanovic
Edited by Julia Byers from byersediting.wordpress.com
15. To Grandmother's House We Go
"You don't understand!" Liesel watched in alarm as her grandmother ran after her father and grasped his arm. She'd never seen her grandmother so upset. "People that go to that town...they never leave! You can't take Liesel and Amala there!"
"And why not, Old Woman?" Warin demanded gruffly. He tossed another sack into the wooden cart before turning to face his wife's mother. The burly man crossed his arms across his chest defiantly. "Once and for all, if it's so dangerous, surely you're willin' to share those secrets you guard so closely, if only to keep your daughter and granddaughter near." Liesel didn't know what secrets her father spoke of, but she wished her grandmother would tell him. The idea of moving to a village her grandmother hated terrified her. Despite her wishes, however, her grandmother just stared up at him desperately, her mouth open and her jaw trembling. But no words fell from her lips; just a silent fear that Liesel could feel from where she stood. A strange pain that the girl had never seen before filled her grandmother's hazel eyes. Warin watched the older woman as well, nodding impatiently when she failed to answer.
"That's what I thought. Liesel, make sure your mother's comfortable. We're goin’!" Liesel hurried to the back of the cart to make sure Amala was well tucked in beneath the blankets she and her father had piled upon her. As she did, Liesel could hear her father muttering about superstitious foolishness under his breath as he stalked back inside for another bag. "Just an old woman making up stories to keep her children near." He threw a disgusted look at his mother-in-law as she paced back and forth in the darkness of the early morning.
Liesel wished it wasn't so early. She would have liked to see the large cabin once more in the glow of the morning sun, rather than the flicker of torchlight. This darkness felt alien to her.
"I know why you're leaving now!" Ilsa suddenly stopped pacing and yelled, so angry her voice shook. "My husband is gone hunting, so you think you can sneak out of here like a thief in the night!"
"A thief?" Liesel's father stormed over to where Ilsa stood and glowered down at her. "We finally hear of a healer that could cure your daughter, and when I try to take her there, you call me a thief?" His face was red, even in the light of the flame, and each angry word cut Liesel's heart like a knife. She wanted so much to plead for him to stop, to wait until her grandfather came home. He knew much more about the forest than her father did. Shouldn't they ask him if he knew about this village in the great forest before they left for it? But she knew from experience that her pleas would only make her father angrier.
"Liesel!" Warin barked, still holding Ilsa's glare. "We're leavin’!" With that, he threw the last bundle into their rickety cart, jumped in, and clicked at the horse. Liesel stood frozen in terror behind it as it began to roll away. Without a word, Ilsa turned and ran inside the house.
"Grandmother!" Liesel shrieked, unable to move her feet. She could hear the cart stop behind her, but she didn't care. She couldn't leave her grandmother. Not like this. As the shriek left her lips, Ilsa sprinted back out of the house clutching a large, colorful, bound leather book to her chest. She shoved it into Liesel's arms.
"Whatever you do," she sobbed fiercely to her granddaughter, "You must escape those woods!" Warin's large arms closed around Liesel's waist before lifting her and roughly dropping her into the back of the cart. Ilsa still cried out. "Come back to me, no matter what!"
Tears streamed down the girl's face as she watched her grandmother fall to her knees, wailing as she grew smaller and smaller in the distance.
By the time the sun rose, Liesel knew the fields they passed were not her grandfather's. They were flat, unlike the rolling hills of her grandparents' land that lay at the foot of the mountain. Her mountain. She watched sadly as its sharp crags softened into blurs, and her eyes strained to see them as their cart rolled along. The dark blue shadows became less pronounced, and the green tree line turned gray. Green rows of vineyards gave way to golden wheat and barley as the land slowly dipped down, and soon the trees came into view.
The trees were nothing like Liesel had ever seen. Her grandparents' vineyard had small clusters of wooded land here and there on their property, large enough for her grandfather to find some game in, but they were nothing compared to these.
These woods towered so high they looked from a distance like a great dark cloud hovering over the ground. Their depths seemed measureless, and they stood blacker than anything she'd ever seen before. There were no smaller trees leading up to the giant trunks. The grass simply ended at the bases of the ancient sentinels that guarded the entrance to their wood.
A chill moved down Liesel's back as they turned right off the main road onto a smaller one that led into the dark domain, leaving the sunlight behind them. There were no flowers growing beneath the trees. Liesel could only imagine that the lack of light choked the life out of anything that might begin to sprout here beneath the twisted canopy. By the time they'd been in the forest an hour, no sunlight reached the forest floor, just the shadows of branches, which entwined themselves with a surprising thickness.
As her courage thinned, Liesel tried to remind herself why they were venturing into such a strange place to begin with. Her mother didn't stir as Liesel gently tucked a stray piece of hair behind her pale ear. She hadn't stirred in a long time. After watching her for a moment more, Liesel sighed and pulled out her grandmother's book.
It had shocked Liesel when her grandmother had pressed it into her arms. The book was Ilsa's most guarded possession.
"Reading is a privilege, Liesel," her grandmother had sternly told her when she was a young child, protesting the reading lessons Ilsa insisted on giving her. "Most people do not have such a privilege. But believe me, in all the places I've been, in all the disasters and miracles I've seen, reading has been the key to unlocking the most wonderful of secrets." Opening the book to a random page, Liesel began reading to distract herself from the increasing darkness they continued to ride into. Written in her grandmother's own hand, with pictures drawn by her grandfather, Liesel marveled again at all the places they had ventured to to record such wonderful adventures. If she tried very hard, it was possible sometimes to pretend the path her family journeyed was an adventure in her book. But then, some strange sound from the trees would startle Liesel, and she would have to start trying to pretend all over again.
When night fell, or Liesel guessed it had fallen, as it was darker than she had ever known possible, Liesel's father stopped the cart horse and started a fire, cursing quietly into the night as he fumbled with the tinder. When the fire was finally of a decent size, he began to roast some salted fish they'd brought with them, and Liesel once again checked on her mother.
What had become a year of endless sleep for her mother had begun more abruptly than Liesel could have imagined possible. When it had happened, they'd been working in their herb garden together, a task both Liesel and Amala enjoyed. The garden was small and neat, nothing compared to the size of her grandmother's garden out on the vineyard, but decently sized for a garden in the city.
"Keep working on that mugwort, will you?" Amala had slowly risen and begun to walk back to the house. "I'm feeling a bit overheated. I think I'll go lie down for a few moments."
"Are you sure, Mother?" Liesel had begun to rise to follow her mother inside, but Amala had waved her back down, her brown eyes smiling warmly at her daughter. "Thank you, no. I'll be fine. I just need a bit of rest, that's all." That was the last smile her mother had given. A moment later, Liesel heard a thump and the sound of pottery breaking. Running in, she found her mother unconscious on the floor. She'd feared the worst at first, thinking her mother dead, but then she saw the shaky, shallow breaths Amala stilled forced in and out. Sprinting into the street, Liesel had screamed for someone to let the town healer. Women had gathered to do what they could, but upon the healer's arrival, nearly all hope was lost. A slumber malady, the healer had called it, a sickness without a cure. Liesel had felt as though she might pass out as she stared down at her mother on the bed, white as the Holy Man's robes and as still as glass.
Upon the their friends' urging, Warin and Liesel had moved out of their city cottage and into Amala's parents' home on their vineyard at the foot of Liesel's beloved mountain. From there, Liesel's father and grandparents had sent word to towns near and far, begging the healers to come up and examine her mother. And many had come, although Liesel sensed it was generally in hope of the reward promised by her grandparents to the one that could cure Amala, as opposed to a common sense of integrity. Despite the generous reward, however, soon there were no more healers, just a woman clinging to life with little more than the ability to swallow and breathe. There had been little hope.
"We've seen this before, Warin," Liesel had once heard her grandmother whisper softly to her father.
"Yes, yes," her father had brusquely replied. From the corner that she’d hidden in to eavesdrop, Liesel could imagine him rolling his eyes. "And the fairy of the land healed the fair maiden and they lived happily ever after." His voice was thick with mockery, but Liesel knew too well it was how he hid the pain.
"But it's true!" her grandfather had insisted. "If you would only be willing to go to them and ask for the fairy-".
"I'll not be runnin' about the land, chasin' after a daydream while my wife draws her last breaths!" Warin had bellowed. "We've been through this before! There is no magic!" The stubborn outburst was no shock to Liesel, who’d heard Warin's countless rants before. That was why it had surprised Liesel so much though, when her father had listened to the stranger instead.
Just a few days before their secret escape, Liesel had been chasing a runaway chicken in front of her grandparents' house. Out of the corner of her eye, she'd been watching a man walk up the long road from town. Considering the vineyard was the last piece of land before reaching the mountain, she knew he could only have been heading for them. He'd stopped for a moment before starting up the path to their door, studying her for an unusual length of time. Hesitantly, Liesel had waved, which gave him the courage, or audacity, as Warin had put it, to come up to the house and talk to the girl as if she was of age. Liesel had found it quite enjoyable though, despite her father’s later grumbling. Thirteen was a strange age to be. She was expected to do the work of a woman, but was ordered around as the babies were. And this man seemed to read her mind.
"You're a little old to be chasing chickens, aren't you?" He'd smiled easily as he walked up the dirt path to the house. Liesel felt herself blushing as she returned the smile,
"Yes, but if I don't, no one will."
"Well, that's a good way to think of it if nothing else," he'd laughed. His clothes were simple, but clean. In fact, their detail suggested a bit of authority, someone with more influence than a simple tradesman. He spoke clearly and smiled pleasantly, but Liesel hadn't missed how his eyes traveled up and down her the way her grandfather eyed a horse he might purchase. "Is your father nearby, perhaps?" Liesel had fetched her father from the field, wondering the whole time what the stranger could want. He answered her question when he introduced himself to Warin.
"Good morning, sir! My name is Izaak," he'd greeted her father enthusiastically. "What a lovely vineyard! And your name is?" Liesel nearly let out a giggle. Whatever he wanted, this man was not off to a good start.
"Warin," her father had grunted. "What do you want?" Izaak looked slightly taken aback by Warin's brusqueness, but recovered his smile quickly.
"I'm not familiar with this countryside, I must admit. I've never seen anything quite like your land-"
"It's not mine," Liesel's father had turned and started walking back to the fields. The thin stranger followed.
"So, you aren't a farmer?"
"Blacksmith."
"And you're out here because...?" Warin turned sharply to face the man.
"Look, I'm busy. What do you want?"
"I must confess," Izaak finally lost his smile and sighed. "My village suffered a great sickness last winter. Many died, and there are few to take their places. I'm looking for strong men who could move out to work in our village." Liesel felt the first ripple of unease when she saw her father's eyes light up at the mention of moving. While Warin had agreed to live at the vineyard, everyone knew he hated living with his wife's parents. Then disappointment settled into his face.
"Interestin' as that sounds, my wife is ill. We've had healers from all over to see her, but none could help." The man's eyes brightened again.
"Ah, but since the sickness, we have a new healer! She came to us from the Far East with herbs and salves few around here have seen! And I know she hasn't been to see your wife yet because she refuses to leave the village." The moment he mentioned the new healer, Liesel knew they were going. It wasn't long before all of the details of the move were settled between the two men.
"Liesel," her father had called to her as the thin stranger left. "Don't tell your grandparents quite yet. I'll tell 'em when it's the right time." The right time came two nights later, apparently, when her grandfather was gone hunting, and her grandmother was powerless to stop him. And now they were in the middle of a forest without light.
"We're almost there," Liesel whispered to her mother before laying a goodnight kiss on her cold cheek. Leaving the vineyard was the last thing Liesel had wanted to do. As she stared into the fire her father had built, however, Liesel decided that maybe it was worth a try. She would do anything to have Amala back.
They rose early again the next morning and continued along the road. The further they traveled, however, the more uncomfortable Liesel felt. These woods felt sick. Though no direct sunshine had penetrated the trees the first day they'd entered the great forest, it had still been light enough. But on the second day, even the brightest spots made the forest appear the way the sky had during the darkest storms back on the vineyard. Liesel looked down at her bright red cloak, suddenly glad for the vivid color in such a dull place.
They arrived at the town late that afternoon, or what Liesel guessed to be afternoon at least. Glad to see signs of life after their strange, solitary ride, Liesel smiled at the first passersby she saw. Men, women, and children came out of their thatch roofed cottages to stare at the newcomers, but oddly enough, no one returned her smile. Further into town, a small child raised her hand to wave, but her mother pushed it down and hurried her out of the street. Soon the houses grew closer together, and shops, stalls, and larger buildings all blended together until they could see what looked like a town square up ahead.
"Father," Liesel called in a low voice. "It doesn't look like there was an illness here recently."
"What do you mean?"
"All these people...the shops are full, and people are everywhere."
"Bets are they're like us," Warin said with a shrug. His nonchalant attitude didn't fool Liesel, though. She could see him looking at the people as well, a small frown furrowing his brow.
When they reached the well in the center of the town square, Warin pulled the horse to a halt and instructed Liesel to stay with her mother. He was on his way up to the steps of the largest building Liesel had seen yet, when a rather rotund man walked purposefully towards them, Izaak trailing nervously after him.
"You must be our new blacksmith!"
"Which is odd, considerin' I just passed one up back there," Warin frowned at Izaak, his lilting accent making his displeasure even more obvious. "You said there had been an illness that wiped out the village." Izaak paled a bit, but the other man, unfazed, stepped forward with an overly friendly smile.
"We can always use another blacksmith, especially as ours is getting along in years."
"And you are?"
"Odo, town mayor."
"Well, Odo, we're here to see your healer." The mayor's sweaty smile faltered for a moment before reappearing on his face. “Surely you'd like to see your new home first-"
"The healer. Or we're leavin'." Liesel felt a small flicker of hope in her heart. Perhaps this healer might know something the others didn't. And when Amala awoke, she could convince Warin to leave the forest and take the family home. The mayor looked a bit unnerved, and paused before answering. Finally, though, he glumly nodded and turned, motioning for the family to follow. Warin hopped back up into the cart and clucked at the horse. Just two streets over, they stopped before a small cottage.
It looked no different than the other cottages, with the exception of an herb garden that lined the path to the door. Liesel felt another stab of unease as she glanced at its contents. The garden itself was barely larger than her mother's had been, and she recognized every plant in it. Most of the plants looked sick, which Liesel guessed was from the lack of direct sunlight. The weedy plot hardly looked like it belonged to an herbalist from another land, just as the woman walking out of the house to greet them hardly looked like she was from the Far East. She had pale skin, as did everyone else in the forest village, mousey brown hair pinned back carelessly beneath a dirty blue cap, and a thin face with dull eyes.
As Warin gently lifted his wife from the back of the cart, the mayor fairly sprinted over to whisper in the woman's ear. Her eyes widened a bit, and she looked over the mayor's shoulder to glare at Izaak. By then, Warin was heading up the path. Liesel didn't miss the look of panic that flitted across the woman's face as she opened the door for them to walk inside.
The cottage room was dark with just one candle to see by, but there really wasn't that much to see. Liesel had been inside the healer's house back in her old city, a building that was full to the brim with dried plant pieces in jars, other plants hanging upside down to dry, a large variety of mixing bowls, mortar and pestle, and a large pot to boil mixtures in. This house had only one shelf of jars, and most of them were covered with dust. The mayor cleared the table so Warin could lay Liesel's mother on top of it.
"What-" the healer began to ask, but Izaak interrupted her.
"Remember the sleeping sickness I told you about, Doffy?" The woman stared at him blankly until a look of nervous recognition came to her face.
"Oh...oh, yes." She walked over to her shelf of jars and stared up at them for a moment before pulling four down. Grabbing the dirty mortar and pestle from another dusty table, she went to work grinding and mixing the herbs. Liesel watched intently as she worked, running through the plants and their uses her head. Her mother had been an expert with herbs. Although this mixture of herbs the woman had concocted seemed a bit simple for the kind of illness her mother was suffering, nothing was too alarming until she pulled out a dried clipping of a dark green branch with spiky leaves and fluffy orange buds.
"No!" Everyone jumped when Liesel cried out. "That's fox heel!" Everyone, even the healer, stared at her as if she'd spoken another language. Only then did Liesel realize how rude it must seem for a girl to correct a grown healer. But Liesel knew all about that plant. She'd nearly eaten it when she was two. Her mother had looked over just as Liesel had raised it to her mouth, according to the family story. They kept it in the garden because it could heal skin wounds, but it was absolutely never to be eaten. Amala had run so fast she'd dropped and broken a clay bowl to keep Liesel from touching it to her tongue. When she was older, Amala had taught Liesel how to safely apply it to a bruise, but never was it to be eaten or drunk, according to her mother.
"Crushing the flowers into the herb makes it poisonous," Liesel explained softly as her father's look of shock turned into a glare.
"Liesel, outside. Now." Liesel felt her face redden with embarrassment as she followed her father out the front door like a small child. Warin bent down to look her in the eye. "Just what do you think you're doin'?"
"I told you," Liesel whispered. "Fox heel is dangerous."
"You think their healer doesn't know her own trade? That a girl of thirteen knows better than she does?" Liesel felt resentment rise in her throat. Glaring back at her father, she huffed.
"They lied about the sickness. There's obviously been no blight here. They lied about their healer being from the Far East! Doesn't it seem that they might lie about this, too?"
"One more word out of you, girl, and you'll regret it!" Warin gave his daughter a withering look.
"I don't care!" Liesel shouted, tired of watching such foolishness play out. "If you let them give that rubbish to Mother, she'll die!" She could be just as stubborn as her father when she wanted to be. Warin stared at her in awe for a moment before giving her a sneer and stalking back inside. Liesel took off after him, darting around his large frame, just in time to see Doffy prepare the mixture for a tea. Without a second thought, Liesel knocked the spoon out of the woman's hands.
"I don't know what you think you're doing, but I'll not let you poison her!" she yelled. Two strong hands grabbed her from behind, however, and Warin said,
"I apologize for my daughter's behavior. She's just upset about her mum being sick. Please, do what you need to do. She'll see eventually that she needs to trust those who know better than her." After giving the mayor a nervous glance, the healer lifted another spoonful of the mixture out to prepare the tea again. Liesel felt like her heart had stopped beating and dropped into her stomach as she watched the woman mix the poisonous orange tinted tea. Tears began to slide down her face as she realized she was going to watch her mother die. She shrieked for her father to stop them, pleading with him to save Amala's life. Warin put his hand gently but firmly over his daughter's mouth as he continued to restrain her.
"It'll be alright, Leese," he whispered kindly into her ear through her weeping. "I know you're frightened, but this woman will save her. She'll be better. I feel it in my gut." All too soon, the deed was done. Amala had swallowed the tea, and the family was taken to their new cottage.
"The old tailor lived here," the mayor had explained. "He passed away three years ago. It's yours now. Let Izaak help you carry your wife in so she can rest." Liesel watched it all with dead eyes. The mayor and Izaak left soon, and then it was just their family. Liesel sat with her mother, holding Amala's hand as Warin emptied the cart.
"Is she showing any signs?" he asked hopefully. It was all Liesel could do to stay silent in response, when all she wanted was to scream. She glared instead and shook her head. "Well, then I'm off to the butcher's. Take care of your mother. I'll be back." Liesel silently loathed his hopeful tone, ignoring his wave as he left. It wasn't long after that that Amala's breathing slowed and her hands grew cold. Through the blur of her tears, Liesel finally saw her mother's gray-blue eyes flutter open for the first time in a year.
"My Leese," Amala's hand shook as she lifted it to touch Liesel's face. Her voice was raw, but it was sweeter than Liesel remembered. Liesel grabbed her mother’s hand and held it to her cheek.
"Mother," she sobbed, "I tried to stop them, but they wouldn't listen! Father wouldn't listen!" In some part of her mind, Liesel wondered why she was blubbering about the tea when her mother's eyes were finally open. Didn't that mean she was better? Besides, there were so many other things she wanted to tell her about that had happened in the last year, but all she could do was sit there and cry like a child.
"I know, sweet girl," Amala's voice was faint. "I couldn't see you, but I could hear.”
“You could hear?” Liesel frowned in confusion. Coughing, Amala nodded.
“I could hear everything."
“Since the day you fell sick?”
Amala nodded, wincing as though in pain.
"But are you better?" Liesel held her breath. Amala coughed deeply again in response, as if to answer her question.
"No, love. I'll be gone soon.” She drew a shaky breath. “But it seems the Maker has given me a few moments with you before I go." Liesel felt a new flood of tears wash down her face.
"Now, there's no time for that," Amala gently scolded her daughter. "Your father will need you. He won't take care of himself without your help. And you," she gently tapped Liesel's nose, "be careful. You're so beautiful...and men will notice. Men aren't always what they seem." She took a shaky breath and caressed her daughter's face once more. "I love you, my sweet girl." And with that, Liesel's mother was gone.
***
Liesel sat perfectly still for an immeasurable time, staring at her mother's ashen face. But deep inside, the part of her that dreamed couldn't be still. It couldn't accept that this was how it ended. Words began to echo in her head, some from her mother. There were other voices that were there, too, however, and eventually, there was one command that drowned out all of the rest.
Whatever you do, you must escape those woods! Her grandmother's voice commanded desperately. Come back to me, no matter what!
Grandmother had been right. They had come to this wicked village, and the healer was either completely incompetent or she had just poisoned Amala purposefully. With all of the lies that had been told, all of the desperate looks the townspeople had been giving one another after seeing her, something in the town of Ward was very wrong.
Without knowing what she was doing, Liesel found herself out of her chair and running. Night darkness was beginning to cover everything, but it didn't matter. Liesel knew which direction the vineyard was in, and she wasn't stopping until she got there. It didn't matter that she could no longer see more than five feet in front of her, nor did she care that she had no supplies. All Liesel could think about was going home, running into her grandmother's arms, and leaving this wretched forest behind forever.
But soon it was too dark, and Liesel's skirt caught on a low branch, causing her to trip. Her hands stung as they scraped against unseen sticks and dry pine needles, and she stubbed her toe on a rock. Wet earth stuck to her as she began to rise, but something made her freeze halfway up. Her breaths were ragged and heavy from her run, but she tried to quiet them as she strained to listen. She was almost sure she'd heard breathing that was not her own.
Turning slowly, still on her hands and knees, the girl nearly fainted as she realized she was not alone. The silhouette of a creature stood out against the shadows. A growl slipped out, so slight she wasn't even sure she'd heard it. Fear made her blood turn cold, and all thoughts of the damp ground and her scratched palms forgotten, Liesel took off again, even faster this time. A tiny voice in her head wondered what she was doing, why she was even in the forest, and screamed at her that no sane girl of thirteen years would be where she was, but she ignored it completely.
She'd only taken a few strides, however, before she was flat on her stomach, the creature crouching on her back. For the first time, Liesel found her voice, screaming as loudly as she could for help. A heavy paw was shoved expertly onto the back of her neck, shoving her face into the ground, cutting off her cry for help as a snout with gleaming white teeth lowered itself down beside her face to growl a warning. It occurred to Liesel that she was going to die.
A part of her wondered if this was the Maker's way of secret mercy, saving her from a long miserable life in that horrid village without her mother. The rest of her, however, was terrified. What kind of pain could a creature like this inflict upon a human, particularly one that wasn't yet fully grown? What kind of gruesome things could those teeth do?
In the brief second before the bite, Liesel wondered which side he would attack her from. The neck? The side? A warm pang from her right hand surprised her, however. Without thinking, she turned her head as best she could to look through the darkness at her hand as the warm blood trickled down it. It hurt, but it wasn’t the killing lunge she’d been expecting. And even stranger was that the animal wasn't continuing the attack. As soon as he bit her, he'd moved few feet away, a low growling still in his throat.
Despite the blackness of night, she could make out the contour of a wolf, the biggest she'd ever seen. His coat was silver, and it almost gleamed in the gray haze that filled the dark woods. Liesel had seen wolves before, but only from a distance, and with the comfort of her grandfather's expert crossbow nearby to protect her. His claws were difficult to see, but they looked longer than anything Liesel had ever imagined.
At that moment, she locked eyes with the beast, and as soon as she did, she began to shake. The eyes into which she gazed were unmistakably human.
She didn’t have time to linger and ponder his unusual eyes, however. One second, the wolf was watching her intently, as if surveying its strange work, and the next moment, it was lying lifelessly on the ground, an arrow in its heart. Liesel watched in horror as the human eyes closed.
"Are you alright?" a man's voice called from a distance. As heavy footsteps approached, Liesel found herself incapable of answering him. She couldn't even lift herself up off the ground. She just lay there trembling uncontrollably, scrunching her eyes shut as though that would make the horror disappear. "That’s a nasty cut there," the deep voice kindly said. Gently, Liesel felt herself lifted by strong arms and cradled like a child. "Do you live in Ward?" he asked. Liesel racked her memory, trying to remember the village's name. Ward sounded right. Even if it wasn't, she didn't really care. She just did her best to nod.
"What are you doing out here alone?" She could hear the frown in his voice. Liesel finally opened her eyes and looked at him, but couldn't answer through her chattering teeth. His expression softened. "Well, no matter. We'd best get you home. I'm sure your mum's worried something awful. I know my wife would be." He didn't see, but Liesel felt a tear roll down her cheek. Yes, Mother would have worried.
As he carried her, he talked. Liesel found his voice soothing. He was a hunter, he said, and his name was Paul. He didn't usually come this far east, but the buck he'd been chasing had led him outside of his normal grounds. He had a family back in higher country, including a daughter about her age, and he didn't like to leave them for long. She began to drift in and out of slumber as he carried her back and chatted away.
It wasn't until they were at the edge of the village that she realized she'd fallen asleep.
"You, man!" The hunter called out. "I have a girl here, and she's not well! Do you know where I might find her family?"
"I'm new here. I wouldn't know." Liesel's eyes were closed, but she recognized the worn, rough tone of her father's voice. Instead of its usual arrogance, however, it was hoarse and broken. A small piece of Liesel's senses returned, enough to feel pity for the man. But with the pity came rage as well. It was he who had dragged them to this place of death, and he'd been the one to hold her back when Amala still could have been saved. And he knew it, from the sound of his voice.
"If you please," the hunter said, uncomfortably shifting her weight in his arms. "I found this girl in the forest. She was being attacked by a wolf-"
"Girl?" Warin's voice lifted slightly. "I been missin' mine since I came home and found her mother dead."
"I...I'm sorry," the hunter said softly. "I found this child in the woods, like I said, bitten by a wolf. Perhaps the pain of losing her mother was just too much..." He stepped forward again. "If you would just look and see if she's yours." Liesel heard her father rouse himself from the stoop slowly and walk towards them.
"Aye, she's mine. Don't know what the fool girl was thinkin', runnin' into the woods alone at night." Despite his harsh words, his voice was soft and gentle. Familiar arms lifted her from the hunter's. Liesel wished she could find her voice to thank the stranger for his kindness.
Her father didn't put her into the bed, and Liesel couldn't look to see if it was because her mother's body was still there. Instead, he simply carried her to a wooden chair in the corner of the room and cradled her as he had done when she was young. The last sound Liesel heard that night was Warin's quiet sobbing as he held her close. Her last thought was a desperate one. She still hadn't escaped the woods.
"You're not readin' that book again, are you?" Warin called through the doorway. Liesel paused, trying to come up with something to say. She had nothing, however, by the time her father walked inside. "You've read that blasted book every day for the past month," he shook his head at her. "You're goin' to bring both of us to madness if you don't leave this house sometime."
Despite Warin's rare show of paternal love the night her mother died, Liesel and Warin had spoken less in the month that followed than ever. He'd never even asked about the wolf, just accepted what the hunter had told him. Then he'd gone on as if nothing had even happened. The wolf attack, her mother's death, even his new job at the blacksmith's stall merited only a few words. And Liesel was fine with that. In fact, she was more than fine. She knew he missed Amala, and she knew he was grieving, but it did little to lessen his accidental participation in her mother's death. Warin had never even apologized. He’d simply gone on as if the whole thing had been just an accident.
The funeral had been small, just a grieving husband and daughter, the Holy Man, and the aloof mayor, although Liesel wasn't sure exactly why he was there. Perhaps he felt some guilt for playing a part in Amala's death, she thought at first, although one wouldn't know it from the number of times he yawned while her mother was buried. It was about all Liesel could take to have him present, and it helped her realize even more how much she needed to escape Ward.
She was desperate enough to break the silence she'd kept towards her father the night after the funeral. Liesel had begged and pleaded with him to take them back to the vineyard.
"You could even move back to the city," Liesel had followed him around as he mucked the tiny stall that stood behind the cottage for their horse. "You wouldn't have to worry about me. I could live with Grandmother and Grandfather! We-"
"No," Warin had been sudden and fierce in his refusal. "We're not goin' back." Seeing the look in her eyes, he leaned down. "And don't you even think of naggin' me about it 'cause my mind is made up. We're stayin' here. Best for you not to question the wisdom of my decision."
"You only ever think about yourself," Liesel had hissed at him, trying desperately to keep her tears at bay. Immediately, she regretted her words. He turned away silently, but not before she saw the raw pain in his expression. Still too angry to apologize, however, Liesel had stomped away and had gone for a walk instead.
Ward was not a large village, but there were enough people milling about to call it bustling. The mayor had mentioned that while they couldn't farm for the lack of sunlight, the townspeople made their living by hosting travelers who were taking the shortcut through the forest to the capitol city. Instead of growing their food, the people had their supplies brought in by wagon from the sunnier places outside of the forest. This struck Liesel as expensive, but she quickly realized they could afford it through their many inns, as well as animal stalls, taverns, and wells. Liesel passed by the tailor's shop, the swordsmith, the butcher, two bakeries, and the church as she walked.
It should have been a pleasant outing. The market was full, and neighbors chatted happily as their children scampered through the streets. The more she walked, however, the more Liesel realized she was not the only one looking. The villagers were looking right back at her as well. The adults didn't even attempt to hide their stares, and some of the children pointed.
Liesel felt herself blush, probably red enough to be visible even in the gray of the forest evening. Had word gotten out about her fit at the healer's? Or was this how they treated all new people? It wasn't long before she'd decided to return to the cottage as quickly as possible. Since that day, she hadn't left the cottage except to get water from the well or gather kindling for the fireplace. Her grandmother's book had been her sole comfort and companion. Warin didn't allow reading in the evening, as he said it wasted precious candles, but during the day, the book was her only friend. And now her father wanted to take even that.
"Why don't you go outside?" He frowned at her beneath his dark, bushy eyebrows. Liesel raised her own eyebrows in response and looked pointedly at her hand. Her father snorted. "Won't do you any good hidin' inside when the entire village is in the forest, girl. Wolves mostly stay to themselves. You probably just surprised the one that got you, that's all. Now I want you out of this house for the time bein'. Go."
It wasn't without irritation or the temptation to say something sharp that Liesel left her beloved book in the cabin. But arguing with her father would be pointless while he was in such a mood. Slowly, she made her way down the narrow dirt path to the main road. She wasn't going back to the town by herself, that was for sure. The open stares had made her feel like she had the plague. So she began down the road in the other direction, the one that would eventually lead her towards the sun. She might not be able to escape the town for now, but she could pretend, even if just for a while.
After about twenty minutes, a change brought her to a halt. It took her a moment to recognize it for what it was, though. On the other side of the road, deep in the foliage, almost too deep to see, one thin beam of sunlight shined down through the otherwise canopied ceiling. Liesel felt her breath catch in her throat. After a month in the depths of an eternally gray forest, she was starved for something bright.
After pausing for a moment, Liesel set her jaw and lifted her skirts delicately to begin chasing the bit of sun before it disappeared completely. The forest floor was littered with dead branches and dry pine needles. As she slowly hiked over pile after pile of dead brush, Liesel started to wonder at the wisdom of her decision to make the journey in a dress, but when she finally reached the spot, it was worth it. The sun was weak by the time it made it through the tree tops, all the way to the ground, but its warmth was delightful. Liesel stood where it trickled down onto her face, imagining she was back on the vineyard, when a rustle in the bushes behind her made her heart stop. Nearly frozen with fear, she turned slowly towards the sound. The forest was suddenly eerily silent as Liesel held her breath and waited. Was it a snake, or perhaps a wolverine? There was a story of one of those vicious little creatures in her grandmother's book, one that had attacked a man and taken his arm. Or could it be another wolf? Trying to gather her wits, unable to wait any longer, Liesel lifted a large stick and spoke, but her voice sounded dry and hoarse,
"Who is it? I know you're there." She immediately felt rather foolish, considering the noise might be an animal just waiting to pounce. It was no animal sound, however, that came from the brush in response.
"Only if you put down the stick."
Liesel nearly dropped the stick in shock. It was a boy's voice.
The boy stepped forward slowly, his eyes wary. His dark brown hair was messy, roughly chopped off as if cut with a dull blade, or perhaps just cut very carelessly. The clothes he wore had holes in several places, and looked just a little too short, although that wasn't unusual for boys about Liesel's age, which was what she guessed him to be. The way he moved, however, was the most unusual thing about him. The grace with which he placed his feet as he cautiously stepped towards her was almost feral. Neither of them spoke for a long time. After her legs began to hurt from standing so still, Liesel finally gathered the courage to speak again.
"Why were you watching me?"
"I was wondering why you were in the forest alone. Women don't walk these woods alone." His voice wasn't deep, but it wasn't a young boy's tenor either. Liesel raised her chin a bit defensively.
"And what if I like to walk in the woods?" It was a strange thing to say, as Liesel did not actually like to walk in the woods, these or any others, but it annoyed her that this boy would tell her what she could and couldn't do. He just shook his head in disgust.
"It doesn't matter. Women don't walk these woods alone. Actually, they don't walk in them at all. It's not safe." The way his brow furrowed made Liesel feel somewhat foolish. Of course she knew it wasn't safe. Her first night there had proven that. She sighed in resignation.
"We just moved here, and my mother died." Her voice cracked a bit. "No one will talk to me, and I don't know why. Then I saw this patch of sunlight, and I just...I needed something familiar. I needed to escape, even for a little while." The boy watched with wide eyes as Liesel shed the first tears since the night her mother died. Suddenly unable to stand, she fell, crying, on a low boulder nearby. She was immediately angry with herself. She had sworn not to break, not to give her father another reason to reprimand her, and now she was doing just that in front of a complete stranger. Sniffling, she wiped the traitorous tears from her cheek and tried to give him a confident smile.
"I'm sorry." This time, his voice was less suspicious and his expression was softer.
"I'll be fine. And my name is Liesel." Liesel struggled to make her voice less tremulous as she looked back up at the small patch of sunlight that filtered through the distant treetops. "I just wish there was more sun. It would be a little more like home."
"You lived somewhere with lots of light?" The boy was obviously trying to stay cautious, but Liesel could tell his curiosity was getting the better of him. As she nodded, a sudden longing took hold of her. She desperately wanted him to stay, where just a few minutes before, she had hoped he would just let her run back to the cottage. Though he still looked tentative, his eyes were kind, and he was giving her more attention than anyone else had since she'd arrived.
"I lived on a vineyard with my grandparents." Unconsciously, it seemed, the boy stepped closer as she spoke.
"What did it look like?"
"Their vineyard is at the foot of a mountain, so you can see for miles from their front door." She smiled at little at the picture. "The sky is endless. Below it, you can see the city, as well as other towns that lie down the road behind it. The vineyard is green, and laid out in rows, and the air is warm and dry."
"You miss it." The boy stated matter-of-factly. Liesel nodded again.
"I never knew I could miss someplace so much."
"You don't like it here?" This time it was a question, as if the thought had never occurred to him that someone might not want to live in the woods.
"No," Liesel shook her head so emphatically a tendril of yellow hair fell out of her hood. "Not even flowers grow here. I miss the sun and the colors. I miss my grandparents." He frowned thoughtfully. "Besides," Liesel gave one final sniffle and stood up to dust off her dress, "as I said, no one in town will talk to me." The boy dropped his eyes immediately, as though guilty. Liesel almost asked, but stopped herself, afraid she might scare him off. She wanted at least one person to talk to, even if he was an odd boy from the forest. "Do you live in town?"
"I live in the woods with my family," he said uneasily. It took everything in Liesel not to ask all of the questions building up inside her head, but she decided against it, again fearing she'd frighten the shy boy away. She couldn't think of why he could be so nervous. She wasn't threatening by any means, at least in a way that she knew of. She had picked up that stick, of course, but really had not the slightest idea of how she would have used it had he been an animal. He must simply be shy, she decided. Unsure of what else to say without overwhelming him further, Liesel finally said,
"I suppose I should go home soon. It's getting dark, and my father will be expecting supper."
"Wait," he half turned towards her as if waking from a stupor. "Will you be coming back tomorrow?" Liesel weighed his expression before answering. Was he trying to avoid her, or did he really want to see her again? She sighed.
"Truthfully? Not if I can help it."
"Why?"
"I...," she paused, "I am afraid of the wolves." It felt foolish to talk about the wolves in broad daylight with another person, one who lived in the woods no less. She hadn't talked to anyone about the wolf bite, not even her father. She'd tried to tell him, of course. No matter how hard she worked, however, the moment she tried to tell him about the actual wolf, aside from what the hunter had told him, her voice caught in her throat, and she just couldn't get the words out. To her surprise, the boy snorted and shook his head.
"I'm here. They won't attack." Liesel thought that was one of the strangest things she'd ever heard anyone say. She looked dubiously at the boy again. His voice was beginning to change, but he certainly didn't have the body of a man yet. What did he think he was going to do if one of those giant beasts found them? He looked so confident, however, that she decided not to challenge him.
"Well," Liesel bit her lip hesitantly. "Do you want me to?" Her heart beat unevenly as the question rolled off her tongue. If he said no, she would be spared the dangers of the forest that might come with a companion who thought himself impervious to wolf attacks. And yet, there was something about him that drew her nearer, made her want to look more deeply into those kind eyes and draw out their secrets.
"I suppose it would be alright." He shrugged carelessly, but Liesel didn't miss the nervous glance he threw up at her while staring at the ground. She couldn't hide her smile.
"Then I suppose I'll be back." Liesel turned to head back towards the road.
"One more thing," she turned to see him staring after her with a quizzical look. "Why is your cloak red?"
"My mother liked red. Why?" He shook his head.
"It's just an odd color to wear in the forest, unless you want everyone and everything to see you." Liesel touched the cloak gently. He was right of course, but...
"It was my mother's when she was a girl."
"Huh. I still think it's strange." And without another word, he was gone. For the first time since she'd arrived in Ward, Liesel felt warm, and it wasn't from the rays of the sun she'd basked in either. Having someone to talk to, and better yet, someone who wanted to see her again, made her feel just a little at home in a way she hadn't felt since the her grandmother's last embrace. By the time she got home, Warin had already returned from the blacksmith's where he worked. He was already pulling his boots back on, however.
"I forgot the cornmeal today while I was out. Come with me. You can tell me what else we need. Your mother always did these things," he muttered. As angry as Liesel still was with her father, she felt another stab of pity for him. He had depended on Amala in so many ways. Nodding, she smiled, and for once, it wasn't forced. As they left the cottage, she decided not to tell him about the boy just yet.
"So, lass, have you made any friends?" Mayor Odo's voice made Liesel jump and then cringe. How had he found them? His house was on the other side of Ward. "Ah," he laughed, "I can tell you have by that expression. Who did you meet?" His smile was friendly enough, but there was something in his eyes that made Liesel think otherwise. Unfortunately, her father chose that moment to suddenly be as interested in her welfare as the prying mayor. She could see him giving her a long sideways look as they walked. She sighed.
"I don't know his name, actually." It was only as she spoke, however, that she realized it was true. She had given the boy her name, but he'd never shared his. An idea formed, so she continued to talk. "He's about my age though. He has hair the color of bark, and brown eyes. He's probably half a foot shorter than my father. Do you know him?" Perhaps the nosy mayor might be helpful after all. She was dying to know the boy's name. "Oh, and he said his family lives in the forest." At this last mention, the mayor's face suddenly paled. Even Warin noticed.
"Is there something wrong with his family, Odo?" He scowled at the short man. The mayor shook his head vehemently.
"Oh, no! Kurt's family is very nice." Liesel allowed herself a small smile. So his name was Kurt. It fit him, she decided.
"What do they do out there?"
"They're hunters," Odo examined a sack of potatoes very closely while he answered Warin's question.
"I thought you said huntin' in this area is forbidden!"
"It is, but...Kurt's family is very old. In fact, they own much of the land around the town. It's best just to leave them alone." But her father was already shaking his head.
"Liesel, I don't want you-"
"No, no, no!" Odo interrupted him. "She'll be perfectly fine. The family just tends to keep to themselves, that's all. The boy needs a friend, though. He's a good boy. Liesel will be the perfect friend for him with you living at the edge of town and all." Liesel held her breath as she looked at her father. While she'd never been one for disobeying direct orders, she didn't know if she could keep her sanity and live much longer without some conversation. To her relief, however, Liesel's father finally nodded his head in assent.
"I suppose that will work then, if it gets you out of the house sometimes." Liesel grinned in spite of herself. Her father had succeeded in separating her from her beloved book, but Liesel was suddenly very glad to have a reason to leave the cottage. Besides, she thought, she might not have to give up her book after all. She had an idea.
Liesel felt nervous until she finished her chores and set off into the woods the next day. What if he didn't come? The boy was certainly unusual, but there was a warmth about him that Liesel found herself craving. She really didn't see how she could survive much longer without a friend.
Liesel had never known the meaning of loneliness before her mother died. She'd grown up with friends all over the city, and even after Amala had fallen ill, the girl always been able to find one of her grandparents to follow around the house or through the fields. And while Liesel wasn't prone to idle chatter, she liked hearing other people speak. Living with the silent Warin was beginning to take its toll on her. She walked even faster as she sent up a prayer to the Maker that Kurt would indeed return.
To her delight, he was already standing where she'd left him, staring up at the small patch of sunlight and wearing a thoughtful look.
"You said yesterday that your grandparents' home has lots of sunlight. There are other places around the world like that as well, are there not?"
"Yes," she walked up as close to him as she dared and looked up at the beam, too. Without turning, he simply nodded.
"I knew it. Father was wrong. You know how I knew?" He finally turned his serious golden-brown eyes on her, and without waiting for a response, grabbed her wrist and began dragging her deeper into the forest. Liesel allowed him to lead her, although a wiser voice in her mind that sounded much like her mother's wondered how far she should let this strange boy lead her into woods she barely knew. And yet, the heat of his hand was comforting in a way Liesel had never felt, and she didn't want to hurt his feelings, so she let herself be led along until she heard water.
Without warning, they burst out of the trees and into a clearing that laid just at the edge of a waterfall. Liesel gasped as she looked up at the waterfall and saw a large patch of blue sky above it. Unimpeded, blinding sun spilled down into the water that lapped the sand not far from their feet. The roaring of the water was mesmerizing as it crashed down into a sparkling blue pond three times wider than Liesel's cottage. The waterfall itself was about as tall as the church steeple back her in old city, and it was nearly as majestic in its bearing. Liesel found herself grinning ridiculously as she looked up in awe at the clear blue sky she'd missed so much.
"What is this place?" She had to nearly yell for him to hear her over the crashing of the water. He waved her over to a log on the other side of the clearing, a bit further from the noise.
"I found it when I was small. My mother had told me stories of places with lots of open sky, and I wanted to see for myself. My father says this is as big as it gets, but I never believed him." He looked at her, his eyes suddenly burning with curiosity. "Tell me," his voice was reverent. "Tell me about all of those other places!"
"Well," Liesel thought for a moment. "I haven't been to many of them myself, as I’ve only lived by the mountain, but I've read stories..." He nodded eagerly, so she continued. "In one kingdom, the rulers have greater powers than our king, or any other king, possesses. The man who is king now made a grievous mistake when he was a prince, and his entire kingdom was thrust into darkness. They would have all perished if it hadn't been for a merchant's daughter, who brought the magic back with the strength of her heart. Then there-"
"Wait, it was good magic?"
"Of course it was good magic. The next place they went-"
"But there is no good magic!"
Liesel huffed, finally tired of his interruptions.
"Are you a magician?"
"No," he grimaced at her.
"Well then, how do you know that good magic doesn't exist? Now, do you want to hear the stories or not?" Nodding, he got up from the log and flung himself down on the sand at her feet, closing his eyes and putting his hands behind his head. Mollified, Liesel continued.
"One of my favorites is the kingdom where the ocean meets the land, and the ocean folk are half human and half fish." Kurt sat straight up, sand spilling out of his wild hair and down the back of his shirt. He was so focused he didn't seem to notice, though.
"Tell me about that one!"
"I could tell you better if I had the book my grandmother gave me. It's filled with drawings and stories from when she and my grandfather traveled the world. I could bring it tomorrow, and you could see for yourself. If you can't read it, I can-"
"I can read," he scoffed as he stood up and skipped a rock across the water. Liesel felt a bit guilty. She knew the story by heart, as she did every story in the book, but she hadn't been sure he would want to see her again after this. By promising to bring the book, she knew she could buy herself at least one more day with him. With the hope of another meeting, she leaned back on the log and lifted her head towards the sky, allowing the heat of the sun's rays to wash over her whole body. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been this gloriously happy. Time quietly passed as they sat in silence. Liesel tried to quell the questions that were raging inside of her, but finally she gave up and asked just one.
"If your father is so sure there aren't places with open sky, why doesn't he leave the forest to see for himself? It's only a day and a half's ride to the edge of the forest." To freedom.
"My father doesn't ever leave the forest. He has too much to do taking care of the family."
"Oh. Do you have a large family?"
"You could say that," He stared out at the waterfall. Liesel shook her head to herself in confusion. Never had she met anyone so determined to be mysterious. Not long after, it was time for her to leave. When they stood to go, Liesel hated staying goodbye to the waning sun that was now beginning to sink. More slowly than the first time, they made their way back to the edge of the forest. Liesel realized as she lifted her skirts that the run had put more tears in her dress than she would be able to mend in one night. It had been worth it, though, she smiled to herself. When they were near the path, he stopped.
"Don't forget to bring your book tomorrow," he said before turning to go.
"Wait!" Liesel had an idea and spoke before she had time to lose her nerve. He turned and looked at her with an open expression. "Would you like to come back with me...just for a few minutes? You could meet my father, and I could show you the book there." But he was already shaking his head.
"My father wants me to stay out of the town." The disappointment must have been evident in her face, however, because he added more kindly, "But I will be back tomorrow." And with that, he was gone.
***
"I don't think you could stand out any more if you tried," Kurt shook his head as he handed the book back. It had met near disaster the first day Liesel had tried to carry it to the waterfall. She'd caught her dress on a bush and nearly dropped the book in a puddle. From then on, Kurt had taken to carrying it for her. Every day, they read another story, and every evening, he asked her if she was coming back the next day. Liesel had enjoyed it immensely, having someone else as interested in her beloved book as she was, but she was somewhat concerned about what she would do when they ran out of stories. It had been a week already, and there were only a few dozen left. The more she got to know the boy, however, the more she dared to hope that he would want to visit even after all the stories were gone.
"A girl walking through the forest alone in a red cloak, carrying a book is just asking for trouble," he continued with a frown. Liesel smiled and stood up straighter.
"Not so much a girl. I turn fourteen today!" Kurt held his hands up and gave a mock bow.
"My apologies, my lady. Happy birthday. Now, may I have your permission to return home?" Laughing, Liesel curtsied back and turned back towards her own home. It had been the best week she'd had since her mother had been well. Kurt was indeed different from any boy she'd ever known back at home. He still had an untamed look in his eyes, and his walk could only be described as stealthy. The paths he led her down were imperceptible to her eyes, and he would often stop and listen for sounds she never heard. But for an inexplicable reason, she felt safe in his presence.
Liesel's mother had warned her about boys when she'd turned twelve.
"They're like wolves, Leese. They have little on their minds aside from eating and chasing girls. You're turning into quite the pretty young woman. Don't be giving them reasons to think you want them to chase after you. When you are old enough to marry, your father and I will find you a good one, but don't be paying these hooligans any heed now while you're young." She had nodded at some of the boys Liesel had once played with, as she continued to hang up laundry on the line in their yard.
"What about Father?" Liesel had asked. "Wasn't he a hooligan once?" Amala gave a loud laugh.
"Now where did you hear that?"
"Grandfather." Amala had rolled her eyes.
"Fathers always think young men are hooligans...all of them. That's why the Maker gave girls mothers, to help them find the true men among the boys."
Liesel sighed. How she wished Amala could meet Kurt. She was sure her mother would have liked him. He was different from the boys she had grown up around. His wild ways were a bit alarming at first, but he was gentle. He was careful with his words. Liesel could see him weigh his thoughts before speaking. How she just wished she could hear more of what he really thought instead of having to guess at his silence so often.
As Liesel neared the cottage, she knew something was wrong. The door was ajar, and she could hear a strange wailing from the inside. Sucking in her breath, she steadied herself for what she was sure to find. It was the fifth time that week her father had come home in such a state.
Sure enough, as she pushed the door open, he let out another wail. She set the book in a cupboard where it would be safe before turning to face the mess on the floor. Warin lay stretched out on the ground, flailing his arms about as he groaned. Liesel could smell him from where she stood.
"Where ha' you been?" he moaned at her when he finally realized she was walking towards him. "I been callin' you all day to make it stop!" Feeling her face flush with anger, Liesel hated the way he slurred his words.
"I wouldn't have to make it stop if you didn't spend so much time at the tavern," she muttered as she expertly grabbed him behind the arms and started dragging him towards his bed. His hair was covered in dirt, and one eye was black. Liesel could only guess he‘d said something foolish to one of the burly travelers who often frequented his favorite tavern.
"Don't you sass me, daughter!" he yelled loudly and tried to point at her. Choking back a gag from his stench, she managed to haul him up onto his straw mattress before removing his boots and shoving his feet onto the bed with him.
"There are some people in this world who can handle a drink now and then," Amala had told her once, shaking her head after Warin had spent too much time at a tavern back in the city. "And your father is not one of them." Liesel had always thought her mother wise in every way, but she was tempted to wonder sometimes where that wisdom had gone when she'd accepted Warin's marriage proposal at the tender age of seventeen. Her grandparents certainly hadn't approved of the match, not even her grandmother. For all Amala's talk of listening to a mother's sense to choose a good man, it seemed she hadn't followed that sound advice herself.
To be fair, Warin wasn't a bad man. Even in his drunken stupor, he'd never once tried to hit his wife or daughter. He'd always seen to it that they were well provided for, even if that meant spending hours nearly freezing in the woods in the dead of winter just to bring meat home for supper. When she was little, he would even lift her up onto his shoulders as they walked through town so she could see everything from above. Long gone were those days, however, and long had it been since Liesel and Warin had shared any kind of special bond. Amala had been the love that tied them together. And now Amala was gone.
When Warin was finally quiet, passed out on his bed as if death had taken him, Liesel cut a few slices of bread and cheese and went to sit on her own mattress, tucking her knees under her chin. Her chest tightened, and the food suddenly felt dry in her mouth. No. Liesel tightened her jaw and then began chewing again. She wasn't going to let the sadness take her. She wouldn't let the tears have their way, because if she gave them permission to come now, they would never stop. So she tried to think about home.
If she had been at home, and her mother had stayed well, Amala would have served Liesel a blueberry tart for breakfast in bed, as she did every year on her daughter’s birthday. The day would have been spent looking at cloth in the tailor's shop, and Liesel and Amala would have chosen some for Liesel's new dress. They would have gone out to her grandparents' home for supper, and her grandmother would have made her favorite sweet bread with honey and milk. Then her grandfather would have told her tales of when he was a young man traveling the world, and her parents would have presented her with a new pair of shoes and some little bauble they'd picked up from one of the traveling merchants who came to town from distant lands.
Instead of making her feel better, however, the memories only made Liesel feel worse. Tearless sobs shook her body as she lay on her mattress in the dark. There was no blueberry tart or sweet bread this year, no new dress or new shoes. Her mother was never going to push the hair back from her face and greet her in the morning with a smile. She would never see her mother's face again. Instead, she was stuck in a forest without light. The people ostracized her, and her father seemed to need the drink more than he needed her. Her grandparents were miles away, and she hardly knew her only friend. Maybe fourteen wasn't so special after all.
The next morning didn't start out any better.
"Don't be tellin' folks about what happened here last night," Warin warned her as he rubbed his head. "A man's entitled to a drink every now and then. Best we forget about it and begin anew." With that, he'd pulled on his coat and left for work, not looking at his daughter enough to see the glare she'd been aiming at him all morning. She didn't know why she'd hoped he would remember her birthday this morning. It wasn't as if that was something he was ever likely to do on his own. And yet, she'd foolishly hoped.
Liesel spent the rest of the morning cleaning the cottage and tending to the horse. She slammed the cupboards and cottage door as much as possible, and their loud protests made her feel just slightly better. She was still in the same sour mood as she set out for the woods to meet Kurt, and only when she'd nearly reached their meeting spot did she remember that she had forgotten the book. Sure that Kurt would want nothing to do with her without the book, she decided to dawdle as she went, not paying attention to where she was really even going.
"There you are," Kurt's voice broke the silence as she kicked a pebble. "Why are you all the way over here?"
"I forgot the book!" Liesel huffed.
"So you're getting yourself lost instead?" Liesel sent him a scathing look before turning back to find the pebble. Kurt reached out finally and took her by the elbow, forcing her to look at him. His voice was gentle this time, though.
"Liesel, what's wrong?" Liesel felt her chin tremble as she weighed whether or not to tell him.
"I hate this place!" She finally spat out. "It's dark and ugly here! Not even the flowers grow, and everything dies!" She wanted badly to tell him about her father, but the shame was just too great. Words of anger were much easier.
"Well, at least you're in a bright red cloak," Kurt's voice was teasing. "I still think it's strange, but at least I'll be able to find you if you make it a habit of getting lost like this." She just glared at him. "I'm sorry," he apologized, all of the jest gone from his tone now. "It was a stupid joke." He thought for a moment before taking her by the wrist. "Come with me. I want to show you something." She said nothing, but let him lead her. The invisible path he took seemed to have no markings or reason to its twists and turns, but she was used to his odd methods of getting around the forest by now.
After what seemed like an endless walk, he let go of her wrist and bent down next to an old hollow log.
"What do you think this is?" he asked softly. Liesel stared at the log with contempt. She had the idea a lesson was coming, but she really couldn't care less.
"Something dead."
Kurt gave a faint smile. Silently, he lifted the log enough for her to spot something furry beneath. In spite of herself, Liesel leaned in to get a better look. Then she gasped in delight. A fawn was curled up, hidden by the shadow of the aging wood. It looked soft and sweet as it stared up at them with trusting eyes. Softly, Kurt lowered the log again.
"Her mother will be back soon," he whispered. "It would be best for us not to distress her." For the first time that day, Liesel allowed herself a small smile. The fawn stayed nestled in her bed as they left. She was the very picture of serenity, something Liesel hadn't felt much since her mother fell ill. But even more comforting than the baby deer, however, was Kurt's affection towards it, the care he took to keep the creature comfortable, and the desire to spare the mother anxiety. The sweetness of the moment was like a healing balm to Liesel's wounded soul.
"Thank you," she mumbled as they walked, suddenly embarrassed of her petulance. It wasn't Kurt's fault her father was a drunk, and although she truly did hate the forest, there was no reason to insult his home to his face. To her relief, he gave her a broad smile, the biggest he'd worn since they'd met.
"I'm not done yet."
They continued exploring for the rest of the day. Liesel was in awe at the amount of life the shadowy woods sheltered. A nest of baby birds hidden in the shelf of a crooked tree, and flowers that bloomed without sun were all placed near her normal path, but without help, she never would have seen them. He showed her how to find berries that were safe to eat, and a poisonous plant with healing milk.
"It looks lifeless at first," Kurt conceded as he held his hand out to help her climb the cliff face of the waterfall. "But these woods harbor more life than one could ever know."
"I believe you," Liesel puffed as she struggled up the steep incline behind him. "Why exactly are we going up here again?" The sun that covered the forest floor at the base of the waterfall was warm and unadulterated. The cliff itself, however, had enough trees resting atop it to escape all direct sunlight of its own. Still, Kurt pushed them higher.
"Just think of it as your birthday gift."
By the time they reached the top, Liesel could tell it was much higher than she'd originally guessed. The cliff face was at least twice as high as her old church steeple at home. Perhaps even more. Her dress was stuck to her body with sweat, and she was breathing so hard she could barely speak.
"What," she huffed, "are we looking at now?" As she stood up, she had to work to keep her face from falling. All she could see was more forest on both sides of the thin river that fed the waterfall. Kurt just smiled, took her by the shoulders, and turned her around. Liesel nearly fainted with joy. From the top of the waterfall, she could see that they were surrounded by miles and miles of green treetops. But to her left, to the west, she could see the outline of a mountain.
"My mountain," she whispered as she fell to her knees. "You gave me my mountain." Tears coursed down her cheeks, but she let them fall. They were tears of joy. The contours of the four peeks were mostly hidden behind thick gray clouds, but she could see just enough to recognize it as hers.
"Why?" She suddenly turned and looked up at him. "Why are you being so kind to me?" He didn't answer immediately, just returned her stare as a troubled shadow fell over him. His young face suddenly looked old.
"It's the most I could do," he finally muttered. "The life you were chosen for is hardly the one you deserve." Liesel had no words with which to reply. Her first reaction was to attribute his cryptic response to her mother's untimely death and unattached father, but something, an undertone in his voice, send a shiver down her spine. An instinct somewhere deep in her stomach warned her that something was very, very wrong. But what could she do? She'd already tried to escape once.
She looked back at Kurt one more time. He was staring out over the treetops again though, and didn't see her gaze. His set jaw looked as if it had turned to stone, and he had his lanky arms crossed defensively across his chest. If nothing else, she decided, she could take comfort in knowing that he cared. They might be powerless to stop the lonely end that seemed to be determined to take her, but through it at least, she would have a friend. And for that, she would be grateful.
"I don't care how evil the rulers of Tumen are," Liesel shook her head and pointed again at the map. "Being a prisoner of the Wasp Dunes would be much worse." Kurt playfully grabbed her hand and moved it to another section of the page.
"Apparently, you've completely forgotten everything your grandmother wrote about how the Tumenians treat their slaves." Liesel pretended to be annoyed, but secretly relished the way his hand felt on hers. Of course, she couldn't let him know that. Slapping his hand away, she made a grab for the book, but Kurt was too quick, and had it high above her head before she could blink.
"What are you doing?" A young voice interrupted them. Liesel froze as she reached for the book, and she could feel the tension roll off Kurt as he did the same. Without warning, he slammed the book shut. Liesel peeked behind them to see a boy a few years younger than Kurt.
"Is this her?" The boy spoke to Kurt.
"Who else would it be?" Kurt replied sarcastically. The boy turned and studied Liesel unabashedly. Liesel couldn't help but stare back. His hair was cut roughly, as Kurt's always was, and his face was angular, too. His appearance was a bit softer though, and his voice was still young and unchanged.
"Liesel, this is Keegan, my brother. Kee, Liesel." Kurt said with a dramatic wave of his arm.
"Hi," Liesel found herself strangely shy. The boy didn't respond at first, just continued to study her. Finally, he spoke.
"Why are you looking at maps?" Liesel opened her mouth to respond, but Kurt cut her off.
"Liesel's not from around here. She likes to see where she came from." This was true, as they'd looked at maps of the mountain earlier that morning, but Liesel wondered why Kurt was being so careful with what his brother knew. After a brief silence, Keegan added,
"Father doesn't like it when you're up here."
"Well, who's going to tell him?" Kurt challenged. They stood for another moment, eyes locked, until Keegan turned his gaze to the ground, beaten.
"Father says we need to be home early tonight," he mumbled.
"I haven't forgotten. I'll be there." Keegan looked past Kurt at Liesel again.
"Can I stay with you?" he whined. "Uncle Lothur wants me to help him when I get back." This time Kurt's answer was gentler.
"We've talked about this, Kee." They shared a long look in which much was said, but Liesel understood none of it. Finally, Keegan nodded sullenly at the ground and began to shuffle away.
"Actually, I need to go soon," Liesel took her book from Kurt. She laughed at his confused look. "My father realized this morning that he'd missed my birthday, so he's sending me into Ward to order some new dresses and a new cloak. Mine are getting too small." Kurt snorted.
"Three months is a bit late, isn't it?" Rolling her eyes, Liesel smiled and nodded.
"Yes, but it's better than him not remembering at all." She gave a small sigh. "My mother was always the one who remembered those things." They began climbing down the cliff beside the waterfall. The climb no longer taxed her the way it had the first time, but she wasn't tall enough yet to use the footholds Kurt used, so she still needed his help. As they made the descent, she thought about the evening before, when Warin had finally realized his mistake.
"Liesel!" He'd barged in the door, so excited he'd nearly run to the table she'd just placed supper on. "I have somethin' special!" He had proceeded to tell her all about the annual autumn festival that was approaching, something she'd known about for weeks after overhearing a conversation after worship on Holy Day. "Now you're not old enough for the jigs," he'd mused. "You have to be fifteen for those. But you can still dress up like your mama used to. Your birthday is coming soon, isn't it? You'll be what, fourteen?"
"I'm already fourteen," Liesel couldn't bring herself to look up as she'd sliced the bread, the old anger returning even after three months.
"Already? When did that happen?"
"Three months ago," Liesel had felt the old resentment rise up in her heart again.
"What was I doin' then?"
"Drinking," Liesel had responded icily, finally putting the knife down to look at her father. "You were drinking, Father! Now sit down. The fish is growing cold." Warin had obeyed, but he kept sending confused, wounded looks in her direction as he ate. Neither of them said anything else the rest of the night. Liesel thought he had forgotten the exchange the next morning until he dropped a small bag of coins next to her porridge.
"Go to the tailor," he'd said quietly. "Have 'im make you some dresses that your mum would be proud of. Get whatever you think she would like." Liesel had gaped at the amount of money when she'd opened the pouch.
"Father, I can't-"
"Yes, you can." He turned away as he stuffed his trousers in his boots. "I can do without a drink for a while." And without another word, he'd stalked out of the house.
"What color will your new cloak be?" Kurt's question drew Liesel from her musings as they reached the bottom of the cliff. "Red again?"
"I don't know. Red was my mother's favorite color, but perhaps it's time I choose something different." And yet, moving on in even such a small way was still painful to consider.
"But if you get a different color," Kurt's eyes twinkled, "I won't be able to find my strange little friend the next time she gets lost in the woods." Liesel felt herself blush pleasantly.
"Will you be at the autumn festival this year?" In her heart, she begged him to say yes. The idea of being around all those villagers who stared at her made her uncomfortable. It was bad enough on Holy Day every week, but at least she and her father had a purpose when they went into town then. Going to a giant celebration to do nothing but watch others dance and be watched herself sounded like torture. Her father would be there for sure, but he seemed oblivious to much of what made her uncomfortable. He still thought she was imagining that the townspeople stared at her. Besides, she allowed herself to admit, she wanted Kurt to see the fancy new dress she was going to have made. She would never be able to wear it out in the woods without tearing it to pieces on the bushes and briers. When she looked at Kurt, however, she realized he looked very uncomfortable.
"I don't think so."
"But you're fifteen, aren't you? Father says when you're fifteen you can dance at the festivals."
"Almost." He looked even more uncomfortable, staring down at the ground and shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Liesel tried to swallow the disappointment that burned in her throat before it could show on her face. She wasn't even sure why she was so disappointed, but the feeling of rejection was there. Kurt must have sensed something, however, because he eventually spoke, his voice breaking twice. "It's my father," he finally mumbled. "He says it's going to be my job to take care of the family one day, and he thinks it's a waste of time to go to Ward."
"Oh," she thought about that for a moment. "Is that why he doesn't like for you to go to the waterfall either?"
"Yes," Kurt sounded bitter. "He says there's no use dreaming about things that aren't going to happen. I'm needed here, so there's no use in hoping for the impossible." Liesel had the sudden urge to reach out and comfort him. It made her angry that someone could care so little about Kurt's dreams. Again, the sudden swell of emotion took her by surprise. What was wrong with her? Liesel fought the urge shake her head and clear it as they stood there awkwardly.
"Well," Kurt finally took a deep breath and put on a smile, although Liesel didn't think it seemed real. "You go get your new clothes. I need to find my little brother."
"He seems nice enough."
"He's not too bad. Spends too much time trying to be older than he is, but I keep him in line," Kurt's smile was more genuine now. "I'll see you later, Liesel."
Liesel was always sad to leave Kurt, but she was truly excited about her new clothes. It was a good thing her father had given her so much money. She wasn't tall by any means, but she had managed to grow out of all the outfits her grandmother had taken her to get fitted for the year before, and her shoes were so small they hurt her feet.
As she walked, Liesel wondered at what had possessed her to ask Kurt if he would be attending. She hadn't planned on asking him. The question had just popped up without her permission. But once she'd even considered seeing Kurt at the festival, the desire had all but overwhelmed her. Liesel didn't even know what she would do with him if they somehow met at the dance. They were both too young to participate in the jigs, as Warin had reminded her. Still, she reasoned with herself, it would be nice to have a friend there to talk to. Even when they weren't talking, Liesel found Kurt's presence calming. Still, a little voice nagged, there was something beyond having a friend present that she desired. Her hand reminded her of that, still tingling delightfully where he had touched it that morning.
It took entering town for Liesel to shake off such confusing thoughts. As she walked through Ward alone for the first time since the disastrous first encounter, she tried not to look anyone in the eye until she'd reached the tailor's shop. It was a small building with a thatched roof, just like her own cottage, but its interior had real wooden floors, rather than stone floors like most of the other buildings in town. The wooden floors were also meticulously clean. Bolts of fabrics sat on shelves. The choices weren't as varied as the cloth in Liesel's old city, but they would serve the purposes she needed.
"Hello?" she called out. The tailor appeared from the back, wearing a welcoming smile until he recognized Liesel.
"Oh," he stuttered. "What can I do for you?" The words were polite, but strained. Liesel took a breath to steady her voice before speaking.
"I need two new dresses...and a cloak." Her father had given her enough money for a three or four dresses, but Liesel was already uncomfortable. It would be more agreeable for both Liesel and the tailor if they spent as little time together as possible.
"I see. Let me...let me get my wife. Just a moment. Millie!" The woman who responded to the call looked just as shocked as her husband had when she walked in a moment later. She recovered from her shock more gracefully, however, and began to ask Liesel a number of questions about the styles of dress that she wanted. It seemed she, too, took care to say as little as possible. By the time Liesel stood to be measured, she was wishing for the hundredth time that her mother was there with her. She would know how to put these people at ease. Liesel chose her fabrics as quickly as possible before darting out of the shop at the first chance she got.
Liesel's visit to the cobbler's shop went no better. By the time she was done being measured for new shoes, she was ready to scream in frustration. What could she have done to make these people abhor and fear her so? It wasn't until she was out looking at ribbons in the square that she found a smiling face.
"What are you searching for, lass?" Liesel looked up from the booth she was inspecting to see a stocky man in a green suit. He immediately struck her as unusual because his face was weathered, as though he spent much of his time in the sun, something no resident of Ward ever did. Also, he was grinning at her. Liesel was so surprised she nearly forgot to smile back.
"I...I'm looking for a ribbon."
"Ah, for the ribbon dance, eh? You'll win that one for sure, my dear. You're pretty enough by far!"
"No," Liesel blushed at the compliment. "In truth, I am only fourteen. Next year I'll be old enough."
"My cart is next over," he gestured to the cart filled with trinkets just a few feet away. "You might see if there's something to your liking." Liesel felt a rush of joy. Perhaps this town wasn't hopeless yet. Beaming at him, Liesel followed. As she brushed through the odds and ends that were laid out on the back of the cart, however, she was startled by the sudden sharpness of his voice.
"Lass, where did you get that?" He was staring down at her hand. In her haste to leave the tailor's shop, Liesel had forgotten to replace the gloves she usually wore in public. He was looking right at the scar on the back of her hand.
"I...," but she couldn't bring herself to utter the words. The dread in his face told her that he already knew it all, though. Fear moved through her as it always did when she remembered that night. Suddenly, finding a ribbon didn't seem very important. All she wanted to do was get back to the cottage. "I think I need to go," she whispered faintly as she began to walk away. He grabbed her by the elbow though, and drew her near enough to smell his rancid breath.
"You must leave this place!" He whispered urgently. "Not just this town. You need to escape the woods!" He gripped her arms so tightly it hurt. "You don't know the danger you're in!" Liesel glanced around her and saw people staring at them. No one moved to help her though. "They can't help you!" He whispered violently, giving her a small shake, "They can't even talk about it!"
"Why?"
"I don't know," he shook his balding head vigorously. "I've tried to ask, but it's like they become mutes the moment the secret is breathed about!"
"Then you tell me!" Liesel was becoming quite frustrated by the man's cryptic hints.
"I can't!"
"Then why would you tell me-?"
"I don't know what happens when girls here get that mark." His gray eyes were wide with anxiety. "All I know is that they all disappear. Every single one."
"Mr. Gaspar," Mayor Odo was suddenly beside them. He promptly pried the merchant's hands off the girl, which she was quite grateful for. "Just what do you think you're doing?" His words were normal enough, but there were dangerous undertones in his voice. And while Liesel was thankful to be free of the peddler's grasp, she realized with dismay, however, that the mayor's involvement also meant she wasn't going to hear what the peddler had to say about the wolf. "When I'm done walking this young lady home, I'll be having a word with you!" Odo's face was even redder than usual as he glared at the peddler, and despite the cool air that hinted at an early autumn, sweat dripped down the side of his face as he nearly shook with anger.
"Please," Liesel tried to get his attention. "I'm fine, truly. Actually, I haven't yet finished making my purchases. You really need not trouble yourself by walking me home."
"Are you certain?" Liesel nodded enthusiastically, and to her relief, the mayor let her go. As soon as she was on the other side of the cart, she ducked down behind one of its giant wooden wheels and listened to the mayor as he confronted the peddler.
"I don't know how you found out about the wolf, but I am warning you now to let it go. I do not want to hear that you've breathed one more word of this to Liesel or her father or any other living creature!"
"It's not as secret as you think it is," the peddler hissed back. "All the other woodland villages have their own version of the story. I don't know which one is closest to being true, but they're all nasty in my own opinion. You should also know it's no secret girls go missing from your town, and have been for generations. If you ever left your beloved hole in the ground, you might have learned that a long time ago."
"You think you're something special, don't you?" The mayor's voice was mocking. "Heroic, even! But know this: if you tell Liesel's father, and they run, it won't end there."
"But she's his daughter!"
"They're all someone's daughter, someone's sister, someone's betrothed. If you save her, you'll only be dooming another." They were quiet for a moment before the mayor sighed, suddenly seeming weary. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, but also more menacing.
"If I find out that you've spoken a word of this to Warin or his daughter, I'll make sure you don't trade in this town ever again. And I mean that, Gil. I don't care how many generations of your fathers have worked here. It will never happen again if you don't pay heed."
With that, he turned and began to walk away. Liesel had to nearly leap behind a group of women to keep him from seeing her as he passed by, the gravel crunching unevenly under his heavy frame. She tried to calm herself before she headed home. There was no reason to draw even more attention to herself by walking like a terrified lunatic, constantly looking over her shoulder. But it was hard to breathe, let alone stop the shaking of her hands. It took all of her focus to put one foot in front of the other enough times to get back to the cottage. As she neared the house, however, she spotted a familiar green suit. She must have been even more distracted than she thought, for him to have passed her on his horse without her notice. Throwing herself against the nearest tree, she peered out to see him deep in conversation with her father.
"You are not understanding me! Your daughter will be lost to you if you don't leave! She was marked by a wolf. Women bitten by wolves have been disappearing for generations! Don't you care?"
"I do care about my daughter!" Warin's voice thundered across the way, loud even from where Liesel was standing. "I care that she's had enough hurts for three girls her age, and she doesn't need you scarin' the life out of her with your tales!"
"But if you would just-"
"You're an old fool with superstitions. Now, I'm goin' to call the bailiff if you don't leave my home!" her father bellowed. Frustrated, the peddler slapped his cap back on his head and stalked off to his horse, nearly stumbling upon Liesel's hiding place in the process. He was so absorbed in muttering to himself, however, that much to her great relief, he missed her completely.
Liesel was shaking all over by the time he was gone. There were too many thoughts racing around in her head to even begin sifting through them. Her grandmother's words, however, were louder than the rest.
People that go to that town...they never leave.
Liesel looked down at the mark on the back of her hand. It had healed, but the scar would be there to stay, silvery lines against the whiteness of her skin. She stared at it for a long time, wondering if it could have some sort of evil magic that could trap her there in the forest. The scar looked normal enough, at least as far as scars were concerned. Could there be a magic in it truly powerful enough to never let her go? The thought was too frightening to even entertain. She would leave these woods someday, she'd long ago vowed to herself. She had to.
She also had to go back to face her father in the cabin eventually, and the last thing she wanted him to do was think she believed the peddler's warnings. He meant well, she knew, but her father was often less than keen in considering the possibility of the unseen.
Kurt. She would ask Kurt the next day. He'd lived in the woods all his life. Surely he would know something, or at least be able to let her know if she was in danger. This thought gave her enough courage to walk through the door and face her father, pretending nothing was amiss. He said nothing about the peddler's visit, and she knew better than to ask. Instead, they made small talk about her new clothes and the upcoming festival. By the time supper was over, however, the pretending had exhausted Liesel, and she was very ready for bed.
Sleep would not come though. Instead, restless dreams harried her, trapping Liesel between consciousness and true rest. Images of wolves and the sensation of wandering through the forest alone toyed with her mind all night, and when she awoke, she felt as if she had never laid down at all. Instead, she felt empty. Her fears had wreaked havoc with her mind for hour upon hour, and she felt as if there was no rational part of her left. All she could think about was finding Kurt.
Liesel managed to remain in bed until after her father left. She could hear him pause at the door before he went to work at his smithing shop, and she could feel his eyes on her, but she thanked the Maker when he said nothing and simply left. She didn't think she had the fortitude to smile this morning.
Finally, long after the gray light outside had signaled the rising sun above the forest, Liesel aroused herself and crawled out of her mattress. After splashing her face with cold water from her mother's old white and blue porcelain basin, Liesel left the cottage and headed for the forest.
It didn't occur to her until she was near their meeting spot that she was much too early. Usually, she was busy with all the chores she had chosen to ignore that morning, such as drawing water from the nearest well, making bread, and mending torn clothes. None of that mattered now, though. She had to find Kurt.
When she reached their meeting place, where she'd seen the first sunbeam, Liesel plopped herself down on a boulder to wait. As she sat, however, all the sounds that were usually indistinguishable seemed suddenly deafening. Liesel stood back up, and without thinking, began to walk in the direction that she thought Kurt usually came from. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Liesel wondered if it was really advisable to walk alone through the forest after learning she'd been marked to disappear, but she was too tired to give much attention to the warning. She was simply going to meet Kurt halfway, she told herself. Or at least, that was the best rationale for her impulsive behavior.
As she walked, the trees began to thicken, and it added to the gloom of the gray forest. Why would Kurt's family live so deep in the forest, she wondered. Then she remembered what the mayor had said. Kurt's family was comprised of hunters. Perhaps the big game only lived deep in the woods. It made sense, as Liesel had never seen any game large enough to hunt near the town.
She had been walking for what felt like hours before she was finally forced to stop and admit that she was lost. Without the sun, there was no way to tell which direction Liesel was going. She'd heard once that the moss grew on a certain side of the trees, but the moss in this forest covered everything. Tree trunks, stumps, and even the boulders had their lowest parts covered all the way around by the soft sheets of yellow-green.
She stopped and stared up at the distant forest canopy in frustration. No matter how hard she tried, though, there was no way to tell the time of day or one direction from another. Liesel considered calling out in hopes that someone might hear her, but that seemed just as likely to bring harm as help. Finally, unable to think of anything else to do, Liesel began walking again. Her legs were sore and her feet ached by the time the forest began to thin the way it did around Ward. She wondered if she might not have wandered around to the other side of the town until she saw the house.
It was rather large compared to most of the other homes she'd seen in the forest, nearly as large as her grandparents' house. Made of stacked timber, it sat at the top of a very gentle slope. Liesel didn't bother to look beyond the house, however, as she spotted a woman hanging laundry to dry on a line that was hung from the corner of the roof. She hurried towards the woman, grateful to have found help.
"Madam," she called out, hoping she didn't appear too disheveled. "I was searching for my friend, and I am afraid I got lost. Would you mind telling me where I am?" When the woman turned around, however, Liesel was pleasantly surprised. She had Kurt's deep golden-brown eyes and bark-colored hair. Instead of greeting her back, however, the woman's own eyes went wide, and she dropped the shirt she'd been hanging. An odd reaction, Liesel thought. She tried again. "My name is-"
"Heavens, child, I know your name!" The woman darted over to Liesel, and grabbing her by the arm, dragged her back into the trees, away from the house. Liesel opened her mouth to ask what they were doing, but the woman silenced her with a threatening glare. Liesel stayed quiet until they came to a stop.
"What are you doing here?" The woman no longer sounded severe, only frightened. "How did you find us?"
"I was looking for my friend, and I got lost...," Liesel stuttered anxiously as she watched the woman's face. She was still holding Liesel's arm, and her grip was tight. Someday, Liesel thought with a bit of annoyance, people would stop grabbing her as if she were a small child that might run away.
"You can't let them see you!" The woman whispered urgently. "They already think it's a risk allowing you to live with your father! Seeing you here would only give them the excuse they need to keep you here and now!" Liesel felt her mouth drop open in horror.
"Who are they?" But the woman was already shaking her head.
"There is no time! You must leave here!" She paused for a moment and closed her eyes to listen. "They've heard you," she whispered. "Get out of here! Go home as fast as you can!" Liesel didn't need to be told twice. Gathering up her skirts, she began to run in the opposite direction, but she stopped and looked back.
"Which way?" Before the woman could answer, two gigantic wolves bounded up and began to circle her, and they were followed by a very tall, lean man. Something about him reminded Liesel of Kurt, but in her fear, she couldn't say what.
"Lothur, no! She is too young!" The woman called out angrily. "Garrit said so, and you know it!" The tall man said nothing at first, simply walked towards Liesel with a strange, smooth stride. It was then that Liesel realized that he had Kurt's gait, animal-like and silent. Finally, he stopped and spoke, his voice quiet and composed.
"But she's already here."
"P...," Liesel's voice was hardly more than a breath. She swallowed with some difficulty and tried again. "Please, just let me go home! I promise not to make any trouble. I just got lost, and-"
"No," the man shook his head, a few strands of silver in his otherwise dark hair glinting in the low light. "It's too risky. Surely Garrit will agree with that." Seeming to speak more to himself than anyone else, he began to walk again, circling around Liesel the way the two wolves were. They took turns growling at her. One even snapped at her heel when she stumbled backwards.
"Liesel!" The girl nearly began to cry with relief when she heard Kurt's voice from the top of the ridge that separated them from the house. To her amazement, he ran down right between the wolves without hesitation and drew her behind him, glaring at the man. The man slightly frowned.
"This is the one that believes in magic, is she not?"
"It doesn't matter," Kurt growled through clenched jaws. As he did, Liesel realized his voice was really beginning to get deeper. If she hadn't been so frightened, she would have found it quite impressive. "I will take her safely home. You need to return." The man looked as if he was about to protest, but Kurt interrupted him. "I will tell him that you disobeyed his orders. Is that really what you want?"
"You're rather cocky for a boy," the man said in a flat voice. Kurt didn't blink as he continued to glare.
"And you are disobeying orders." After the man and the boy had scowled at one another for what seemed like an eternity, the man inclined his head just slightly and gave a short whistle. The wolves immediately turned and followed him over the ridge and back towards the house. Only when they were gone did Kurt look at the woman. They shared a sad smile before she climbed back over the ridge as well.
Liesel felt her knees buckle. Kurt caught her awkwardly just before she collapsed on the ground. As he held her awkwardly, Liesel realized she felt oddly even dizzier than before.
"We need to get away from here," he muttered tersely. "Can you walk?" Liesel was trembling so hard and felt so dizzy she could barely answer.
"I don't know." When he started to pick her up, however, her embarrassment was greater than her fear and disorientation. If Kurt hadn't thought her addled before, he certainly must now. "Let...let me see," she tried to stand again. This time, her legs wobbled, but she was able to walk on her own. He kept a hand on her elbow though, as he led her away from the ridge, and she saw him sneaking worried glances at her often as they went.
It was only half an hour later that they made it back up to the waterfall. Liesel realized with dismay that she must have walked in circles before finding the house. Kurt said nothing as she sat down and caught her breath. She tried to read his expression through glances she sneaked when she thought he wasn't looking. Was he angry with her for venturing into the woods alone, despite his warnings? How did he know the man named Lothur? When she finally looked enough times, however, she was surprised to realize that he looked...sad. He stared out at her mountain quietly, the look on his face much too old for a boy of almost fifteen years. A piece of hair fell over his right eye, and Liesel could have sworn there was a tear glistening in its corner. Guilt burned down the back of her neck, and she could suddenly stand the silence no longer.
"I am sorry." He finally turned to look at her, looking genuinely surprised.
"What for?"
"I didn't sleep well last night, and I just needed to see you, so I tried to find where you lived." Kurt shook his head, stood up, and kicked a rock absentmindedly.
"None of that was your fault. My family is...different from most other families. It is why we live so far from Ward."
"You mean with the wolves?" Kurt raised one eyebrow, so Liesel explained.
"Lothur had wolves that listened to him. You ran right past them, and they didn't even notice. They nipped and growled at me though." Liesel trembled at the memory. It suddenly made sense. Kurt's family must be able to influence the wolves. It was why he'd scoffed that first day at the thought of wolves attacking him, and it must have been why he could run past the wolves without blinking. "But what do they want with me?" she finished with a whisper. Why had she been marked?
"Liesel, I told you before. The magic here is not good magic like you have in your stories. It's dark, and it seeks to do evil."
"How do you know there is dark magic here?" Liesel whispered.
"You keep forgetting. This is my home."
"But why did the wolf bite me? And why won't anyone talk about it?" Liesel was getting angrier the more she thought about it. None of it made any sense. It was like a confusing dream from which she couldn't awaken. Everyone knew. The peddler, the mayor, and even Kurt's mother knew. Everyone but her. And yet, she had the awful feeling that she was still being hunted, and they were just watching, waiting for her to stumble.
"That's how the magic works. They're not allowed to talk about it. They might want to, but most of them can't. Not to you, at least."
"But the peddler!"
"What peddler?" Liesel related to him all that had happened the evening before. As she spoke, Kurt's face paled. "Kurt, what's wrong?" He grabbed her by the shoulders.
"Liesel, you cannot tell anyone about any of this! Do you understand?" When she was too frightened to respond, he gave her a shake and asked again, "Do you?" Liesel would have been angry with him for the shake if it hadn't been for the terror in his eyes. She had never seen him frightened. He was often oddly quiet, and he sometimes liked to strut around the way most boys his age did, but now all the playfulness and bravado was gone. "Liesel," he whispered tightly. "I am trying my best to protect you. There are things going on here that you've never imagined, not even with that book."
"Tell me," Liesel breathed in fear. "Tell me what's going on! Tell me why that wolf bit me, and why the peddler said I was in danger." Kurt shook his head.
"I can't." She glared at him.
"You are just as bad as the rest of them!" The look of hurt in his eyes was unmistakable, but she was too frustrated to care. Neither of them spoke for a while. She stood next to the roaring waterfall, just at the edge where it plunged over, and she stared at the outline of her mountain. She wanted to look at him, to see if he was still sad, but her pride wouldn't permit it. She remembered some saying her mother used to quote about the danger of pride, but she ignored it. The pride was all that was holding her together. Without the indignant fold of her arms and raised chin, she would crumble to pieces. The knowledge that Kurt had known and not told her was jarring. He had been her rock. He finally spoke again, his quiet words interrupting her thoughts.
"I can't tell you, but I can promise to do my best to keep you safe." Liesel finally turned and looked for a long, long time into her friend's anxious face. His brown eyes were repentant, and she was reminded that he was not yet a man. He might be rather proud sometimes, and could act as if he owned the forest, but in reality, he seemed no more in control than she was. She sighed.
"How can you promise that? You're just a boy." She didn't miss the flash of annoyance that moved across his face.
"I promise!" he moved closer, his expression suddenly fierce. "I can't make it all stop, but I can keep you safe. Would you just believe me?" Still feeling a bit resentful and defiant, her first impulse was to say no. But the longer she looked at him, the more she remembered. He was the one who had found her. He'd brought her as close to her mountain as she could get. He was the one who found her in the forest and saved her from the unnerving man and his wolves. He was all she had. And deep down, she somehow knew that would be enough. Against her will, a small smile crept to her lips. As she nodded, she felt a foreign sensation wash over her. It took her a moment to realize it was peace.
They stared out at the massive ocean of treetops for a long time before she remembered a question she couldn't shake.
"What did that man mean when he said I was the one who believed in magic?" Kurt frowned in disgust.
"My uncle has always been far too obsessed with magic for his own good, my father says."
"Your uncle?" Liesel shivered. How Kurt could be related to that frightening man was beyond her. But Kurt didn't seem to hear.
"We've had enough of that around here, thank you very much!" He muttered underneath his breath. The look on his face was so ominous that Liesel didn't dare ask what he meant. Instead, an idea formed, and where there had been none before, hope suddenly surged in her heart. Aside from her mother's healing, she knew instantly that she had never wanted anything more in her life.
"Come with me!" She grabbed his hands without thinking.
"Where?"
"Away from here! Anywhere! We can see the mermaids! We can climb the mountain and see what lies beyond it. We can go anywhere we want...together!"
"Now?" He was looking at her as if she had lost her mind.
"No," she shook her head and gripped his hands more tightly. "When we are older. We'll escape this place and never look back at! No dark magic, no more secrets. We can see the world!"
"Leave the woods?" He shook his head, his golden-brown eyes sorrowful. "Liesel, I can't. My father will need me to help with the family."
"Your brother can help!" Liesel was desperate. She had seen this imagined future so clearly, as if the fairies had crafted a vision made just for her of Kurt walking beside her as they left the forest behind, their faces pointed towards the sea. And although it had existed for just a moment, Liesel clung to the scene like the air she needed to breathe. For in a way, it was her air. She couldn't bear to live trapped in this existence, forever in this wood haunted by secrets. Liesel needed hope. And, she realized, she needed Kurt as well. He filled the void she hadn't known was there until that moment.
"You deserve more than this," Liesel whispered up to him, suddenly very aware that his breathing has sped up as well. After an eternity of staring into her eyes, he finally have her a small lop-sided smile.
"Very well," he said softly. "I promise."
Liesel sat back and wiped her forehead on her sleeve. For a forest without sun, it could get strangely hot. Nevertheless, her garden looked wonderful, and Liesel was proud of her work. The plot was small compared to the one she had shared with her mother back in the city, but it would keep them fed through the next winter.
Liesel wished again that Kurt's father would let him visit her garden. She didn't get to see him as much as she had the year before, now that she had her garden to tend and his father kept him busy with the family. Still, she would have liked for him to see it. After all, it would not have been there at all if it hadn't been for Kurt. Liesel and her father wouldn't have made it through the winter if it hadn't been for Kurt, either.
The winter had been a hard one, and it had come without warning. The supply wagons that always brought in grain had been unable to make it through the ice storms with any regularity. Though the forest ceiling was too thick to allow much light through, it certainly let the ice in uncontested. Everyone in the town was assigned rationed amounts of grain, but Warin was often in the tavern on the days it arrived. And by the time he made it over for their share, it was all but gone.
For Warin, it was simply an inconvenience. The tavern keeper had stored much ale, but that didn't help Liesel any. When the first ice storm had finished, she'd wandered outside breathless at its beauty. The icicles had hung from every branch, roof, and window like ornaments of crystal, gleaming white and blue in their glory. But as the ice came again and again, and the food came through less and less, Liesel found her will to leave the cottage slipping away. The constant ache in her belly and the fatigue of her muscles had made her lethargic and unable to travel far from the cottage. She'd spent most of her days leaving her mattress only to do what she must, making the bread, on days they had enough grain to make any, and warming weak tea on the fire. The cottage, she soon discovered, was riddled with cracks and holes, and though she tried to stuff them with rags and mud, they continued to blow cold air all through the house.
Warin had spent more time than ever in the warm tavern, and only ever seemed home when it was dark and difficult to see. The only exception was on holy days, through which he slept, and Liesel lacked the strength to wake him. It was on those days that Liesel missed Kurt the most. He couldn't enter the village, and she couldn't make it into the woods to meet him. She missed reading her stories with him, and she missed planning their adventures. She wanted so much for him to take her by the wrist and drag her through the woods once again, and she longed to see her mountain. Oh, she missed her mountain.
It was two months after the first snowfall that Liesel saw Kurt again. The fire was dying, so Liesel had roused herself enough to put on her cloak and venture out to the village edge to gather sticks for the fire. As she bent down to add another to her bundle, she was startled by a voice.
"Where have you been? I've been looking all over for you!" When she looked up at him, however, Kurt stopped talking and just stared. Only then did Liesel realize what he must be seeing. Her hours in the cottage had made her drawn and pale. And weak. The last time Liesel had dared to look in her mother's small hand mirror, it wasn't her face that had looked back. It had been a thin, sickly girl with dry yellow hair that fell limply down her back. There were dark hollows beneath her eyes that looked like bruises against her white skin. She bent back down and began picking up sticks again, her face burning with shame. To her surprise, however, he took her by the shoulders and stood her back up so he could study her more. "What happened to you?" His voice was kinder this time, but it didn't lessen Liesel's embarrassment.
"The ice has kept the supply wagons out of the forest," she spoke to the ground, not willing to look him in the eye.
"But your family is supposed to get ration, isn't it?" Liesel shrugged.
"I tried. I couldn't carry the grain back to the cabin."
"But your father can get it, can't he?" Liesel didn't answer. Kurt's voice hardened a bit. "Liesel, why won't your father get it?"
"He might remember if he wasn't so busy at the tavern!" Her words were sharper than she'd meant them to be, but the bitterness in her heart was too great to hide any longer. How she had wanted to keep her father's habit a secret from her friend. It was one thing to have an absent-minded father, but it was another to have one who thoughtlessly forgot all else in his quest for comfort.
"He doesn't hunt either, does he?" Liesel shook her head and finally gathered the courage to look at her friend directly. His expression was as judgmental as she had expected, but his appearance overall took her a bit by surprise. Despite the uneven stubble on his face, and the fact that his pants were even shorter on him than usual, Kurt looked fine. The constant want that was painted on her and on all of the villagers' faces the few times she'd seen them was nowhere to be seen on Kurt. He was healthier than ever, and had easily grown an inch in the months since she'd seen him.
"No," she said. "The mayor told him hunting is outlawed in these parts." Except for Kurt's family, of course.
"I forgot about that," he muttered, scratching his head.
"Well," Liesel began to stand up. "I hate to go, but-" Kurt's eyes opened wide as he looked around again.
"It's cold out here," he exclaimed. "You'd better go back inside." Sadly, Liesel nodded. Leaving Kurt was the last thing she wanted to do, but her toes were beginning to lose their feeling. "I wish I could..." Kurt frowned in frustration at the cottage just outside the woods.
"I don't want you to get into trouble with your father," Liesel said. As she turned to go home, he called her name out once more. She looked back again.
"I'm glad you kept your new cloak red," his eyes were still sad, but he wore a lopsided grin. "I'll be able to find you next time you get lost." Liesel smiled in spite of herself. She could feel his eyes on her back as she went inside. She set the sticks down by the sputtering fire so they could dry. It would be a quite a while before they were ready to burn. She hoped she had enough dry tinder to last until then. She plopped down in a chair that was drawn as close to the hearth as she could get it and wrapped herself more tightly in her cloak.
Her father's booming voice woke her up several hours later.
"Liesel, what's this now?" Liesel tried to blink the sleep from her eyes as she stumbled groggily towards the door. When she opened it, she saw her father holding up a dead rabbit and a bundle of small log bits, wrapped in a cloth. "Where did you get these?" he demanded.
"I...don't know," Liesel stuttered, although she had a pretty good idea as to their origins. "They weren't there when I last went out." The more she thought about it though, the more she had to keep the smile from her face. Warin, however, was not amused in the slightest. "You know huntin' is illegal is these woods," he held up the rabbit and shook it at her. "I don't want them to be thinkin' I'm breaking the rules now!"
"I think it might be from my friend, Kurt," Liesel had hastened to explain, afraid he might throw it away. "His family owns the land, remember?" Warin had given her a long, hard look. Finally, he handed it to her. "Fine, cook it up. I suppose it won't hurt anythin', as it's dead already. Besides," he followed her inside and began removing his muddy boots. "The dried meat stew they serve in the tavern is gettin' mighty old." Liesel mashed her lips together so the words on her tongue stayed there. So he'd been eating at the tavern, too. What kind of rations had they received? Liesel hadn't tasted meat since the winter had begun.
The soup Liesel made that night was the most delicious she had ever tasted. And every night after that, a small piece of game had showed up on her doorstep, as well as a dry bundle of wood. Liesel felt herself begin to grow stronger again, and when spring finally came, she was as healthy as she had been before. When they met up again for the first time, nothing was said about the food or wood, but Liesel could see the satisfaction in Kurt's eyes when he saw her walking steadily towards him.
Though they still met from time, both Kurt and Liesel found themselves busier that spring than the one before. Kurt's father had decided it was time he begin shouldering the responsibilities of the family. Liesel, though grateful for all Kurt had done, was determined never to be so dependent upon others for food again. As soon as the ground was thawed, she had begged Kurt to teach her how to garden in a place without sun. If the village healer's garden was any indication, trying to garden the way she had outside the forest wasn't going to work.
"Your mother had a lovely garden," Liesel had recalled from her quick glimpse of his house. "Perhaps she could-"
"Absolutely not!" Kurt's voice was so sharp it startled her. "You are going nowhere near there."
"But how else will I learn?" Liesel had whined. They were sitting up on the waterfall's ledge for the first time since the snow had thawed. Liesel knew he was trying to protect her, but she was desperate to know. "You don't know what it's like to have nothing in the cupboard to eat."
"Nothing?" Kurt had given her a hard look.
"You know what I mean."
"Look, I'll bring some seeds and teach you what I know."
"You know how to garden?" Liesel had raised her eyebrows. Kurt seemed too wild, too antsy to have ever grown much of anything. He rolled his eyes.
"When I disobeyed my parents as a child, my punishment was working with my mother instead of playing."
"Is it still?" Liesel couldn't keep the small smile off her lips. For some reason, the picture of adventurous Kurt being forced to garden was funny. He wiggled his eyebrows mischievously at her.
"I just make sure not to get caught." True to his word, Kurt had come with an assortment of plant bits and seeds the next day. He'd explained how to bury and water them, and when they would ready to harvest. And in return, Liesel had worked faithfully all summer, and now that the warm days were growing old, she was proud of all she'd done. If only Kurt could see it.
"Liesel!" Her father's voice interrupted her thoughts.
"You're home early," she said as she stood and wiped her hands on her apron. Whatever he wanted must be important for him to skip the tavern for the day.
"I'm here to take you to buy your ribbon!"
"My ribbon?" Liesel stared at him blankly.
"Yes, girl! For the festival! The one that got snowed out last year. It will be here soon, and you're old enough to dance this time!" Despite her hesitancy to attend the dance, Liesel had to smile. Warin really had felt guilty about missing her birthday the year before. Oddly enough, once summer had arrived, it was as if the winter had never happened, and Warin had happily stepped back into being a father. He'd taken to accompanying her to town over the summer. Sure that her reluctance to go into Ward stemmed from shyness, he attempted to get everyone he saw to have a conversation with Liesel. When they greeted her, upon prompting from him, he was pleased, sure he'd made her a new friend. She didn't have the heart to tell him otherwise.
"That's thoughtful of you," Liesel gathered up her garden tools, "but I doubt that any of the boys will be very keen on dancing with me."
"Nonsense," Warin followed her as she put the tools away. "You're turnin' out just as pretty as your mum."
"Father, they won't even talk to me. I hardly think dancing is something they really want." Especially if they thought she was marked for evil. But every time she'd tried to bring it up, Warin would hear nothing of it.
"That's because you haven't given the foolish rascals a chance," her father continued to follow her as she went inside and began to slice the bread for supper. "You spend all your time in the woods with that friend of yours. Might do him some good to see he's got some competition." Liesel felt the blush rise to her cheeks.
"Kurt is just a friend." As she said the words, however, she felt their inadequacy. It was hardly mere friendship that moved one person to keep another fed all winter. A friend wasn't really what Liesel would call Kurt. But if not her friend, what was he?
"Daughter." Her father finally took the knife from her hand and put his hands on her shoulders to face him. His eyes were full of guilt. "Come here." He went over to the wooden chest in the corner and knelt beside it, taking a small brass key from his pocket. Liesel felt her throat tighten as he did. The chest had once been painted in bright colors, paint from the Western Shores, her mother had said. Liesel's grandfather had made it himself when Amala was a baby. He'd carved the shapes into the wood, and her grandmother had painted it. Its colors were duller now than they'd once been, but Amala had loved that chest. No one had touched it since they'd taken it out of their little cart. "I was noticin' the other day that your dresses are too short again," Warin reverently pulled something out of the chest and held it lovingly in his lap. He swallowed hard. "I think you're tall enough to wear your mum's dresses now." Liesel didn't move. After allowing her to nearly starve the winter before as he drank away his pain, her father had somehow managed to notice her height.
Anger and pain mixed in her stomach, and she couldn't have uttered a word, even if she'd wanted to. It didn't matter, though. Warin didn't look up, just continued to caress the item in his lap as if it were a child. "I know I been drinkin' more than I should. When I saw that your dress is too short the other day, I realized I don't have enough money to buy you new things like I ought, and it made me think-" his voice hitched, and it was a moment before he could speak again. "It made me think of what your mum would say if she could see you now. She would let me have it for not buying you new things, and for spending so much time away." He finally looked up at her, his eyes rimmed red with tears. "I know I haven't been there when you needed me to be. I know...in truth, I've been a lousy father. Your mum, she kept me on the straight and narrow. I just...I don't know how to live well without her. I'm tryin', but that's the best I can do." Liesel could only watch him in shock. She hadn't heard him speak so many words since they'd come to the forest.
"The night you ran away...the night we lost her...I nearly ended it all then and there. Knowin' I had let her die, even though you tried to warn me, and then knowin' you were out in the woods alone. I was so close to givin' up. Then that hunter brought you back, and I had to go on. But I couldn't, not without help." Not without the drink, Liesel thought wryly. "I thought I could bury it all. But then I saw that your dress is too short...," he faltered again, finally holding up the object in his hands. As it unfolded, Liesel realized it was one of her mother's old dresses. Tears streamed down her father's face as he looked at her beseechingly. "I can't imagine all the awful things she'd say if she could see all the ways I've hurt her girl."
As if in a daze, Liesel walked just close enough to touch the dress. Liesel had never seen her father cry, other than the night she was rescued from the wolf, and she couldn't be unaffected by his tears. And yet, the vestiges of the last two years were still with her. If she closed her eyes, she could still feel the hunger in her belly and the weakness in her legs. She was still haunted by the afternoon in the healer's house, where Warin held her back as she tried to save her mother's life. She still heard her grandmother's screams as she watched the cabin fade in the distance. How many times he had hurt her. How many times must she forgive him? Liesel scrunched her eyes to block out the sight of her broken father on the floor, begging her forgiveness. She didn't want to forgive him. He'd hurt her too many times.
"You never know, my Leese." Amala's voice echoed in her mind. Immediately, Liesel was back in their old kitchen in the city, helping her mother roll out dough. She was young, only five or six, and she had just asked her mother why she always told Warin she loved him when he left in the mornings. Her parents had carried on a loud disagreement the night before, although Liesel couldn't recall what it had been about. She just remembered asking her mother why she would tell her father she loved him even when she was mad at him. Amala had shaken her head and given Liesel a wry smile. "You never know when you'll see someone again. I may be angry, but if the Maker calls him, I don't want to regret my last words." Liesel opened her eyes again. She was still angry, and she knew she would be for a long time. But deep down, she knew her mother was right.
"I...I suppose we could get a ribbon," she heard herself saying in a faint voice. "We could get one that's dark blue, to match this." Taking the dress from her father, Liesel buried her face in it. It smelled a bit dusty, but her mother's scent lingered there as well. As she stood there, clutching the dress, she felt Warin wrap his own arms around her.
"I'm goin' to do better, Leese!" he whispered fiercely. "I promise." Amid all the emotions Liesel felt flying around in her heart, in that moment she wanted to believe him. A sad voice inside, however, whispered that it would be a long time before she could.
***
Two weeks later, Liesel had her ribbon. It was the only silk she had ever owned, and deep down, she had decided the moment they'd purchased it that she would have rather kept it for herself and simply wear it than ruin it with embroidery for the dance. But if it would please her father, she was willing to give it a try. Since the day he'd noticed her newfound height, Warin truly had been making an effort to spend more time with Liesel. In fact, he was around so often she could hardly leave the house without him trailing after her. In desperation, she finally sent him to the tavern one day with enough coins for two drinks so she could sneak out to see Kurt without her father following along like a new puppy. Kurt's opinion of her father was one that involved words Liesel couldn't repeat.
While Liesel was grateful that her father was finally taking an interest in her, she had finally begun to harvest her garden, and she really needed Kurt to teach her how to preserve the food. At least, that's what she told herself. But in her heart, she knew she missed him as much as she needed him. Garden or no garden, she needed to see Kurt.
He was sitting in their usual spot atop the waterfall's ledge when she arrived. She'd been tall enough to climb the ledge without his help for some time, so the waterfall had become their place of meeting. There were days when she'd climbed up alone, days when his father had kept him home helping with the family. On those days, she would sit still and think, or sometimes mend a piece of clothing. The water's rushing sound was relaxing, as was being able to see the contour of her mountain in the distance. From the look on Kurt's face, however, it seemed he'd spent more afternoons waiting alone for her lately, and they hadn't brought him the same peace they brought her. Guiltily, she went to her usual sitting rock and avoided his gaze. The fire he'd lit and the frying pan he had brought with him piqued her interest, but she didn't ask.
"You've been busy," his voice was resentful. Liesel sighed.
"I'm sorry, Kurt. Things have been...different lately."
"Different. I see." Taken aback by the anger in his voice, Liesel peeked at her companion. He was glaring at the fire. While she did feel bad about being gone so much, Liesel couldn't help but wonder what had brought this storm on. Frowning, she drew out her ribbon and began to embroider her name onto it, a task she had been putting off as long as she could. The dance was the next evening, however, and her father had been asking when she would be ready to cast her ribbon for the first dance.
"So what's his name?" Kurt spit out.
"His name?" Liesel looked at him blankly.
"The one that ribbon is for. The one that's so interesting." It took Liesel a moment to realize what he was really saying.
"You're jealous!" she exclaimed. He frowned even harder at the flames.
"I am not!" But Liesel couldn't keep the smile from her lips or the blush from her cheeks. While his guess was wildly off, Liesel could not help feeling a bit smug. A year ago, she'd desperately worried that Kurt would tire of her. She'd never expected him to be the one to fret about losing her.
"Kurt, why can't you come to the dance?"
"You know that. My father won't let me."
"And my father is why I am going." He raised his eyebrows incredulously at her, and when he spoke, his voice was sarcastic.
"Your father is making you go to the dance?" He shook his head and went back to poking the fire. "Now I know you're making things up."
"No, truly." Liesel seated herself beside him and crossed her legs. Her grandmother had always fussed that sitting in such a way was improper, but neither Kurt not the woodland creatures had ever seemed to mind. "He thinks I am going to have fun at this awful thing. I'm only going because he wants me to."
"So why the sudden interest in whether you live or die?"
"Something reminded him of my mother," Liesel said softly. It was a long while before Kurt responded. Finally, she sighed, "I know he has been awful, but-"
"He almost let you starve!" Kurt blurted out. "And he would have if-" he stopped himself before he went on, but Liesel knew what he was going to say.
"I haven't forgotten about that," she said quietly. "I never will. But my mother is dead, Kurt. Isn't it understandable that I might want something with the one parent I have left?" She looked down at the ground. "My father will never be able to love me like my mother. He wants to love me though. Wouldn't you want that from your father?"
"I suppose," he mumbled. Liesel breathed a sigh of relief. She knew he would come around. He was too good not to. "But are you sure you're only going to this dance because he wants you to?" He finally looked up at her, no longer scowling, but not yet smiling either. She gave him the most reassuring smile she could.
"I promise." She laughed, "I told him no one will want to dance with me though. It's a waste of time."
"Look, are we going to do this or not?" Kurt grumbled.
"Do what?"
"I was going to show you how to preserve the vegetables, but if you're too excited about this dance-"
"Kurt!" Liesel finally grabbed her ribbon and tried to smack him on the head with its tail. "I will happily beat you to death with this ribbon if you don't let it go!"
"Alright! Alright!" he threw his hands up, and laughing, reached down for the large pan at his feet. "I brought some of the early stuff from our garden to show you how to cook them, even before I show you how to keep them. You probably didn't have all of these foods in your fancy city kitchens, so you need to know how they taste." Relieved and happy, Liesel spent the rest of the afternoon and evening watching her friend show off his unusual skills. She'd never heard of a boy that knew how to cook and preserve food. The city boys would have frowned upon that as womanly. But, she considered, Kurt was an unusual boy. As she was beginning to walk back towards her own home, Liesel turned one more time.
"Just so you know, when we have our adventure one day, we can go anywhere we want." She meant her words to be reassuring, but Kurt frowned just a little before nodding silently and turning to go. Liesel puzzled over this all the way home. For some questions, however, she decided, there were no easy answers. Kurt was full of mysteries. She would simply have to work harder at solving them.
The next evening, Liesel walked beside her father, trying desperately to look more composed than she felt. Wearing her mother's dress to this festival had been hard enough. It was like admitting all over again that she was dead. As long as the clothes had stayed in the trunk, it had seemed like they were simply waiting for their owner to return. Taking them out, washing them, and even fixing the moth holes hadn't been so bad. They had still smelled of Amala, a scent Liesel had spent hours breathing in before she'd washed them. Wearing them though, had been completely different. Her father had been right. She was finally tall enough. But wearing them was admitting that Amala was never coming home. And though Liesel had admitted it before, it killed her to do so again.
The idea of trying to catch a dancing partner on top of that was nearly too much. She'd almost feigned an illness to stay home, but when she saw the way her father looked at her in her mother's dress, she knew she couldn't. Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes, and a genuine, gentle smile lit his face.
"You look just like her, Leese. I always said that hair was a halo of its own." With that, he offered Liesel his arm and they left for an evening she knew was a huge mistake.
"You know your mum was the best dancer in the city," Warin's eyes were bright with the memory. Liesel couldn't help but be intrigued. "That's how we met. Her ribbon was pulled, and I got the first dance."
"She told me you met on Holy Day!" Warin's grin just grew, and he wriggled his brows mischievously.
"It's true that I first saw her then, comin' out of the church, but we didn't meet. Your grandfather took one look at me and took your mum straight home. He couldn't get rid of me that easy, though! From the moment I laid eyes on your mum, I knew I was going to marry that girl. You should have seen the look on his face when he saw me pull her ribbon at the dance!" Warin was laughing now, his big voice booming down the quiet road they walked. Liesel had to smile along with him. When he found something funny, which was highly unusual outside the tavern, Warin's laugh was catching.
"How did you manage to pull her ribbon?"
"I bribed the mayor."
"You what?" Liesel gasped. The ribbon dance wasn't by any means sacred to her, but she knew some couples who had wedded solely because of the ribbon dance. They believed the Maker had coupled them that way, and so it was meant to be. The Holy Man had preached against such superstition, but there were a good many families that still held the dance as much more than a festival tradition. Every town in the region had its own ribbon dance, according to Liesel's grandmother. That her father would interfere with something so important shouldn't have surprised her, but she'd thought even he had limits, but apparently not. Still, from the joy the memory had brought to his face, he believed it had been the right thing to do.
"Your mother was so lovely, Leese. Your grandmother had insisted on puttin' her hair up in some ridiculous curls before they arrived. Said it was only proper. But as the evenin' went on, and we danced into the night, the more her hair fell out of place until it floated around her. It was like seein' waves of golden wheat rollin' in the wind. We danced the whole time, and when it was all done, I tried to kiss her. She would have none of that though! Said I'd have to marry her before she let me steal any such sweetness from her.
"Bein' the young, wild man I was, I had nothin' to my name but the clothes on my back and the few coins I earned doing odd jobs here and there. Your mum changed all that. After that night, I found a blacksmith and hired myself out to him. I'd learned to smith from my own father back in my own county, and in a year, I'd married your mum. You came along not long after that." Liesel listened, spellbound, to the story she'd never heard a word about from her mother. Liesel supposed the way Amala and Warin had met was probably a bit embarrassing to her ever proper mother. Or perhaps, Liesel wondered, Amala had feared it would give Liesel the idea to follow in her footsteps. Whatever the reason had been, it would remain forever hidden now. Liesel turned to study her father as he walked beside her. His eyes were distant, and the smile he wore now was a sad one.
"Your mum was good to me, Leese. She brought me back when I strayed, and she always forgave me when I stumbled. You're a lot like her, girl. Don't you forget that."
"Thank you, Father," Liesel murmured. And she meant it. For all his faults, Warin had loved her mother faithfully.
The sound of an excited crowd pulled her from her reverie, and Liesel felt her heart quicken as they entered the town square. There had been a few people that had passed by them as they'd headed into town, three or four neighbors on the outskirts of Ward, but it seemed now the whole town was gathered around the stage that had been set up in the square. Mayor Odo was standing on it, along with Izaak and a few other dignitaries Liesel had seen here and there around town.
"Don't look so ghostly now," Warin gave her a small shove from behind. "Drop your ribbon in the bucket before they start to draw!" Liesel nodded and did as she was told, trying to ignore the terrified stare of the woman holding the bucket as Liesel dropped her ribbon in. Only then did it occur to her that she could have embroidered someone else's name on it. Then, even if her ribbon was picked, she would be saved from having to make a fool of herself before the entire village. But it was too late for that now, and her father was watching her with delight, so she dropped it in with a sigh. There were lots of other ribbons, she tried to comfort herself. Surely they wouldn't pick hers for Summer Maiden.
"Good evening," the mayor's voice boomed across the square, signaling the beginning of the ceremony. "Welcome to the Autumn Festival! I'm Mayor Odo, and for those of you visiting our town, I hope you find your stay here pleasant." Liesel wondered who he was talking to, as she recognized every face in the crowd from their Holy Day visits. That she was aware of, she and her father were the newest people there. The only less familiar faces she could see were some of the traders and merchants, and she recognized most of them immediately. One of them seemed to feel her gaze. When he turned his head to return her stare, she realized it was the peddler who had tried so hard to warn her. She gave him a hesitant smile, and he nodded. Just then, her father nudged her, moving her attention back to the mayor's speech. "I know most of you are familiar with our tradition of choosing our Summer Maiden. Each eligible young lady has brought her ribbon this evening. Whomever has her ribbon chosen first will be our Summer Maiden, and this year, she shall have the first dance with Landry Stu, winner of last week's archery contest." Landry walked up to the top of the stage. His eyes were hidden by the hair that drooped down his face, but his grin was wide and full of pride. "Are you ready, Landry?" The mayor pointed at the bucket Liesel had dropped her ribbon in. Reaching in, he pulled a ribbon out, Liesel couldn't see what his choice looked like. Landry handed the ribbon up to him, and the mayor began to read it out loud. He stopped immediately though, and much to Liesel's surprise, somehow managed to pale in the fading gray light of the forest evening. Liesel still couldn't see the ribbon he held, but she did hear him mutter to the young man,
"Pick another one."
"Hold on, now!" Warin shouted out, his voice indignant. "He pulled my daughter's ribbon! Why would you have him pull another?"
"Really, Father, it's-" Liesel tried to stop him, but Warin was already charging up to the stage. Before anyone could react, he'd snatched the blue ribbon from the mayor's hand and was waving it in front of the crowd.
"The rule is that the first ribbon pulled is the name of the first Summer Maiden, and that's my Liesel!" He looked around at the people, expecting their support. The sinking feeling in Liesel's stomach intensified when her father realized no one agreed with him. Instead, they simply stared, and the fear in the air was palpable.
Liesel had expected nothing different, but it was clear her father had. Long ago had she accepted her place as the town pariah, but Liesel could see the rage growing on Warin's face as he looked for support at all the people he had assumed were his friends. Turning back to the mayor, he held the ribbon up and shook it in Odo's face.
"My daughter was right about you people! You're all addled in the head, thinkin' somethin' like this is acceptable. I thought perhaps my wife's death was an accident, but I can see now that Liesel was right. There is evil in this town, and I won't stand for it! Come, Liesel! We're leavin’!" Murmurs arose as he stormed off the stage. Liesel nearly had to run to keep up with him as he stalked back towards the cottage.
Part of Liesel's heart felt giddy as they arrived home and Warin began throwing everything into piles.
"Where are we going?" Liesel was almost afraid to ask, terrified her father would change his mind. For a moment, he didn't seem to hear her. Finally, however, Warin's shoulders slumped and he came to a stop.
"We're goin’ back to Weit. No, rather, we're goin’ to your grandparents. I've done a fine job of makin’ you miserable here," he turned and looked at her, his eyes repentant. "You need a woman's touch to help you grow." Unable to hold herself back, Liesel flung herself at her father and wrapped her arms around him. She felt him hug her back, hesitantly at first, but then his grip tightened. "You're much wiser than your old man, Leese. Your mum would have been proud of you tonight." Liesel felt tears sting her own eyes as he pushed her back to look at her face. "And I don't mean just your beauty. You held yourself together with dignity, even when they tried to hurt you. I mean it. Your mum would be so proud." It took Liesel a moment to recover her voice.
"So when are we going?"
"Tonight." As he spoke, however, a wolf's howl sounded in the distance. It made Liesel shiver, and even seemed to chill Warin a bit. "Although I suppose it wouldn't hurt to wait until the mornin'. We'll get a bit of rest tonight, instead." Liesel nodded emphatically before continuing to help him pack the few dishes they had in the cupboards.
As they worked, Liesel couldn't help but feel torn. It was awful to think that she could be second-guessing their decision to leave, but something nagged at her. Kurt's face continued to entertain her mind as she worked. If they had been leaving like this the year before, Liesel would simply have felt as if she was leaving a friend. But Kurt was more than a friend. He had kept her alive for an entire winter, breaking his father's sacred rules to do so. He'd promised to keep her safe when no one else would. He'd stirred up feelings within her that she'd never felt for a boy, the ones her mother had warned her about. Kurt had become her whole world. It would be incredibly wrong, she decided, to leave without at least saying goodbye. And reminding him of the promise he'd made.
Since they were leaving in the morning, she decided, she could sneak out early and meet him at the waterfall. He usually didn't arrive that early, but if he didn't make it in time, perhaps she could leave him a letter explaining what had happened.
After Warin finally went to bed, Liesel took a quill, ink, and a piece of parchment from her bag. She rarely used the writing materials, as they were nearly impossible to afford, but such an occasion merited a whole book, she decided. As neatly as she could, Liesel related to Kurt all that had happened. As she wrote, she thanked the Maker again and again that Kurt could read. In her letter, she promised that she would still keep her side of the bargain, that she would meet him when they were older, that they would still explore the world together. She wouldn't forget, and she was going to be holding him to his promise not to forget either. It seemed so strange, she mused to herself, that she could feel any sort of sadness about leaving the woods. She'd wanted nothing more than to return to her grandparents since they'd arrived. In the time that they'd lived in Ward, she'd lost her mother, been ostracized, and nearly starved. And yet, a piece of her mourned leaving this boy behind. Through it all, he had been there. Simply leaving without saying farewell in person seemed so wrong. And yet, she sighed, what else could she do? Warin's mind was made up. They were leaving at first light. He was determined to be out of the forest by the first night, and to do that, they would need to ride steadily. There would only be time to rest the horse.
Liesel had nearly nodded off with exhaustion by the time she sealed the letter with wax. Getting into her little mattress for the last time, she smiled as she rested. In just two nights' time, she would be laying on her bed at her grandparents' house. Never would she take the feeling of safety in their home for granted again.
***
Liesel didn't even realize she'd fallen asleep when the door creaked open. The events of the evening had taxed her more than she'd expected. Rolling over, she decided to let her father start loading the bags into the cart without her. She wasn't strong enough to lift most of them anyways. She awakened fully, however, when she heard a strange guttural sound from Warin's bed. When she opened her eyes, she nearly fainted.
A large wolf was standing over her father's body, blood dripping from its black muzzle. Warin's face was ashen, and he wasn't breathing. The wolf stared at her for a long moment, and like the first wolf, its eyes were hauntingly human. Even worse than that, they were familiar, although Liesel had no idea where she had seem them before. But it didn't matter. Instead of the paralyzing fear Liesel had felt the first time, Liesel felt rage fill her veins and pump through her heart. She nearly invited it to try and come at her. Instead of attacking, however, the wolf finally turned and simply ran back through the door. In an instant, Liesel was out of the bed and had her father's crossbow in her hands. Because of the cold, Liesel had taken to sleeping in her shoes, and was morbidly grateful for this tonight as she plunged into the darkness.
The foolishness of trying to hunt a wolf in the night evaded Liesel as she sprinted after the beast. It didn't matter either that she was terrible with the crossbow. Her grandfather had only given her a few lessons on the vineyard before Warin's surprise move to Ward. Still, she tried to load the bolt as she ran. Thanks to her time with Kurt in the forest, Liesel had become better at navigating the brambles and stumps that tended to trip one on the forest floor. Still, it wasn't long before Liesel could no longer hear the sound of the wolf as it ran, and was forced to stop.
"Are you afraid?" She screamed into the night. "Are you too cowardly to come and finish the job?" Sobs began to escape from her chest in gasps as she tried to shout, the lifeless form of her father filling her mind once more. Without a plan, she started to run again, but a pair of strong hands caught her and held her tightly as she thrashed, trying to escape.
"I have to find it!" She sobbed to whomever held her. "I have to kill the wolf!"
"No, Liesel!" Kurt's voice was cautious but controlled. "You'll just get yourself hurt."
"But he killed my father!" She cried. She quit fighting him, however, the long run making her suddenly lightheaded.
"I know," he whispered into her hair, his voice strained. "I know." Liesel no longer had the strength to run, or even stand, or even wonder how Kurt already knew. Instead, she collapsed into the young man's arms. She felt dead inside. Just when she had dared to hope that her life was turning around, that she was getting her family back once more, her hopes had been dashed to pieces. As terrible a father as Warin had been, she had loved him, and he had loved her. There was no reason that this injustice should have happened. None of it made sense. Kurt had been right, she thought morosely. A dark magic lay over the forest. Nothing but evil had befallen her family since they'd arrived. Liesel clung to Kurt's shirt as he tried to comfort her. She didn't care that she was half sitting in the dirt, or that she was in the middle of a forest at night. All she knew was that Kurt was holding her together, every little broken, bitter piece that was left of her soul. She could do nothing but hold on tightly and cry.
Liesel didn't remember falling asleep or returning to her cottage. All she knew was that somehow, she awoke the next morning in her own bed. Though her father's blood still stained the floor, his body was gone. The mayor arrived shortly to offer his condolences, and Liesel didn't even ask how he already knew or what had been done with the body. All she wanted to do was lie in bed and remember nothing of the world that had been taken from her.
"Did you hear me, Miss Hirsch?" Liesel slowly turned her head to look at him when he spoke her name. "I asked if you wanted to move in with someone. We have a number of families that are willing to take you in after such a grave accident. You wouldn't have to live on your own." So they all knew. Somehow, Liesel wasn't surprised. She stared at the rotund man with contempt. He had so many words when all she wanted was silence.
"No."
"Pardon?"
"I said, no!" Liesel snapped. "I will be fine on my own." It wasn't as if they had been any help thus far. "I won't be staying here anyways." The already nervous mayor looked as if this troubled him more deeply than her father's death.
"Where will you go?"
"I'm going to board the next grain wagon that will take me. I'm going back to my grandparents."
"I wouldn't advise that," he began, but she cut him off.
"I do not care what you would or would not advise! You and the rest of this wretched town have been nothing but a blight on me and my family! I'm leaving, and there is nothing you can do!" Finally, realizing he wasn't convincing anyone, the mayor stood and left, much more disconcerted than he had been when he'd arrived.
As soon as he was gone, Liesel began to ransack the cottage, looking high and low for their money. Surely they had to have some coins stashed somewhere. It was only when she reached his blood-stained mattress that Liesel realized Warin must have kept the money on his person when he went to sleep. He always kept the money with him when they traveled anywhere. And Liesel had no idea where his body was or who had taken it. Angry, but undeterred, she slammed the cottage door shut as she marched back into the town. She approached the first grain wagon she saw.
"How much to hitch a ride back to Weit?" The man loading his wagon looked at her incredulously before shaking his head and chuckling.
"The city by the mountain? That will cost you at least 200 francs, love." Liesel nearly lost her composure. 200 francs was more than her father made at the smith in a year. Swallowing hard, she tried again.
"What about just to the edge of the forest?"
"200 francs."
"But that's much closer!" Liesel protested. The trader rolled his eyes and bent down to whisper in her ear.
"Look, it's nothing personal. This morning, before dawn even, your mayor came around to warn all the travelers, such as myself, that an addled girl would be asking for rides out of town. He threatened our allowance out of town if he caught us trying to take her."
"Addled?" Liesel growled. The man shrugged.
"I didn't say I believed him. But to risk my right to trade in this town, I would have to know I was guaranteed something for my troubles." Speechless, Liesel whirled and stalked over to another trader. And a third, and then a fourth. Somehow, either the mayor or Izaak had managed to speak with every single tradesman in the town. Unless she was able to come up with 200 francs, or more, as some of the others had asked, she was going nowhere.
Without realizing where she was going, Liesel ended up back at the cottage. Everything was still in disarray, bundles and bags thrown haphazardly about from when Liesel had searched them for coins that morning. She stood in the doorway for a moment, uncertain of what to do. Part of her wanted to find Kurt. The other part of her wanted to fall into her bed and sleep and never have to wake up. As she vacillated, however, an ice cold determination moved into her heart. A plan was already forming in her mind.
Night had fallen by the time Liesel's plan was complete. She would find work in Ward. If they were so determined to keep her, they would have to give her some way to survive. Garden or no garden, she needed a way to buy grain. She wasn't going to live long on turnips, onions, parsnips, and the few potatoes her little plot had produced that summer. She would save and scrimp everything she could though, buying only what was necessary. She would get the 200 francs if it killed her.
A wolf howled in the distance, and Liesel fetched the crossbow once again. Laying it beside her bed, Liesel glared at the door, mentally daring the animal to burst through. If she couldn't leave now, it didn't matter. Somehow, she was going to escape.