Girl in the Red Hood (18 page)

Read Girl in the Red Hood Online

Authors: Brittany Fichter

Tags: #romance, #true love, #fairy tale, #happy ending, #clean, #retelling, #little red riding hood

BOOK: Girl in the Red Hood
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"Stop your blubbering," Kurt's father shook
his head with disgust. "The magic called you back, and that is all
there is to it. Best get on and accept it." As he began to stalk
off, Liesel felt Kurt grasp both of her arms. He said something,
but Liesel couldn't hear him. The woods began to tilt, and the
ground rose up towards her with surprising speed.

"That was cruel." Kurt's tone was quiet, but
disapproving.

"She needed to hear it." Heavy steps
crunched in the dirt as his father walked back in the direction he
had come from. His voice was suddenly old, but maintained its ring
of authority. Before leaving, he stopped once more.

"I know you think you know her, but this one
will cause you nothing but heartache if you don't kill all hope of
escape now." He sighed heavily. "She has your heart, and that's how
it should be. But you must break her before you can heal her.
They're all the same." A hand gently stroked Liesel's hair. It
suddenly occurred to her that she wasn't upright. She didn't even
have her eyes open. Instead, she was being cradled like a
child.

"Perhaps I don't want
my
wife to die
of a broken heart before she's gray." Kurt's voice was sharper than
Liesel had ever heard it, quiet, but cutting and smooth like a
knife.

"Hold your tongue, Boy, and have some
respect for the dead!"

"How many died before Mother? Two? Three? It
took a fourth wife to survive long enough even for children.
Believe me, I have more respect for Mother than you ever did."

"Do you really think your girl is the first
to get upset?" his father snarled. "Mark my words! When she sees
what kind of life you are chaining her to, it doesn't matter how
much you thought she loved you. She will try to run, and you will
have to bring her back. Sometimes again and again before she knows
her place. And even when she stops, she will hate you for what
you've done to her. And it will get worse when you give her
children, and she watches them change."

Liesel was still too disoriented to even try
standing, but his words cut off any thoughts of trying to leave
Kurt's arms anytime soon. The father and son were both silent for
an immeasurable amount of time before his father spoke again. All
the anger was gone from his voice this time, though, and he just
sounded tired.

"The sooner she can find any shred of
contentment, the sooner she will be able to accept it. They all do
eventually." With that, Liesel heard him walk away.

Kurt sat holding Liesel for a long time. The
way he cradled her made Liesel want to weep. How many times in her
daydreams had she imagined him holding her this close? Even after
she left Ward, she had dreamed of Kurt. Why did her dreams have to
come true like this?

Exhausted beyond anything she had ever
known, Liesel was nearly unconscious when Kurt pressed his lips to
her hair and whispered,

"I've missed you."

 

***

 

When Liesel woke up, she had a ravaging
headache. Slowly, she pushed herself into a sitting position before
daring to open her eyes, afraid the world might spin again if she
tried it too fast. When she finally succeeded, she found herself in
a spacious room made of sturdy logs, with a large bed, washstand,
bedside table, and wide window. It was still black outside the
window, but a large stone fireplace and a number of scattered
candles lit the room. A tall, thin bookshelf stood across from the
bed where she sat, and a little white desk sat in the corner near
the door. The curtains were made of pink lace, but were so old they
looked ready to fall apart. The bed covering matched the window,
but it seemed a little less dusty. The whole room smelled of cedar.
Dried flowers hung from a nail on the wall. If she hadn't been
forced here, the room wouldn't have seemed so bad.

But, Liesel sighed, this seemed to be the
room where the dreams of women had died for two hundred years. Each
piece of cloth and furniture had a slightly different look, as if
each one had been chosen by a different woman. There was a sadness
to the air. It was palpable.

Liesel briefly looked under the door. A
guard had been placed outside her room. She had expected no less
though. When she looked back down at where she had been lying,
however, her throat caught. Not only was there a plate of potatoes,
onions, and carrots waiting for her, still steaming, but also
something far more precious. Reaching out, she gingerly touched the
familiar spine. When she opened it, the pages crinkled just as she
remembered. The leather book was a little worse for the wear. But
it was hers.

If nothing else, she would have her
grandmother's stories after all.

 

 

12. A BOY’S HOPE

Voices awakened Liesel. Strangely, they came from the wrong side of
the room, and it took her a moment to realize she was no longer in
her little attic in Tag.

"Would you at least consider what he is
saying? She believes in magic! She could end it once and for all if
she was willing! With her help, we could find a way!" The young man
who spoke sounded like Keegan.

"I consider everything our uncle says, but
with more with caution and less zeal," Kurt responded dryly. "Now
don't let Father hear you talking like that, or you and Uncle will
get an earful."

As she blinked in the gray of morning, the
events of the night before trickled back. Wolves, Kurt, magic,
everything returned to her in even the smallest of detail. She
could even still taste the earthy carrots. The empty plate now lay
on the short bedside table. When she had discovered the food the
night before, Liesel had considered leaving it untouched, simply so
they would know she wasn't at all in cooperation. But it had been a
long while since she had eaten anything, so Liesel had decided to
prove her displeasure in some other way. She would need her
strength if the moment to escape arose.

As she lay there remembering, a rap on her
door sent her into an annoyed tizzy as she searched groggily for
her robe, only to remember that she was still in her dress from the
day before.

"Liesel, it's Kurt," his muffled words came
through the door.

"Just a moment," she huffed. As angry as she
was with him, Liesel had no desire to look as ruffled as she felt.
If she was going to be kept against her will, she was determined to
at least appear somewhat dignified. She ran over to the wash basin
and mirror and did her best to tame her rebellious golden locks and
chase the dark circles from beneath her eyes. Finally, she opened
the door to see Kurt standing there with a plate of eggs and
biscuits and a cup of tea. As much as she hated to admit it, the
food smelled delectable, and much to her horror, it made her
stomach growl loudly. Kurt tried to hide a smile as he held them
out to her.

"As it's nearly noon, I thought you might be
hungry." With a sigh, Liesel took the food and went back to sit on
her bed. Kurt pulled the chair out from the desk and sat in the
doorway. Liesel tried very hard to focus on her food, and not at
the striking young man intently watching her, but even without
looking at him, Liesel was very aware of the fact that Kurt now
looked every part a man. What she really wanted to do was study
every inch of his face to see if any trace of the boy she had loved
still lingered. Not only would that be highly inappropriate,
however, it would also encourage him to think she might actually
submit to the pack's plans for her. And as confused as she felt
about Kurt, no one emotion would allow her to simply accept this
fate.

"When you're finished, I have something I
need you to see," Kurt finally said after an awkward silence.
Liesel gave him a cold look, then nodded before returning to her
food. Resentment made it taste sour though. If it had been any
other circumstance, she would have given him every snide remark she
could think of. He'd lied to her. He had known all along what the
townspeople and wolves had wanted. And even after he had sent her
away, he'd brought her back to this place of loneliness and horror.
The only thing that kept her from pouring every ounce of vehemence
out onto him was knowing that his mother had just died.

After dawdling for as long as she could,
Liesel finally sighed and put her tea down and stood up. Whatever
he wanted to show her must be important. He had that sound to his
voice, the same sound she'd heard the day he brought her to see the
waterfall for the first time. Grudgingly, she followed him out of
the house.

Once they were outside, Liesel could see
that it was the same log house she'd stumbled upon years before, a
long cabin situated at the top of a gently sloping hill. This time,
she was in front of the house though, and not behind it, and she
nearly gasped when she saw that it stood watch over an entire
town.

Sheltered by trees of monumental
proportions, little cottages were huddled in clumps as far as the
eye could see. They were much like the homes in Ward, made of logs
with thatched roofs. People came in and out of the houses, going
about their work as they might in Tag or even Ward. But something
was off.

"I know you're hoping to run," Kurt's voice
was as collected and calm as ever, as though he were discussing the
weather. She met his eyes with defiance, and he gave a small,
knowing smile.

"Don't they all?" she muttered.

"Despite the obvious futility and danger
involved in trying to escape a town of nearly two hundred and
thirty wolves, yes, some do." He frowned as he watched the bustle
of the people below them. "But many stay."

"
Why?
" Liesel nearly regretted the
rudeness of her question, not missing the fleeting pain in Kurt's
face. She hadn't meant to add more pain to his loss by insulting
him. But the idea of choosing to stay in such a wretched place
after being dragged away from everything one knew and loved seemed
ludicrous. That, and she was still terribly angry with him.

"I'll show you." Kurt's voice was a little
more subdued as he led her down the first street. Dirty children
scampered fearlessly in and out of homes and up and down fences.
The adults went about their lives, working and scolding the
children, but they paused to look at Kurt and Liesel as they walked
by.

 

It was somewhat unnerving when the
townspeople returned her gaze. There were no smiles, and the only
laughter came from the children. No one even spoke so much as a
word, just went about their work as silent as stones, pausing only
to watch Kurt and Liesel walk. There was no hope. Just a morbid
curiosity it seemed.

"Wait here," Kurt motioned for Liesel to
stay put as he turned into a small yard. She couldn't see why at
first, and considered making a run for it as he strode up to the
front door. Her curiosity got the best of her though.

"Steffen," he called up above the door.
Liesel watched, confused. "I know you're up there," he continued.
"If I have to go up there and get you myself, your grandfather
won't be very pleased." A moment later, a little head of blond hair
peeked out from behind the chimney. Wide-eyed, the little boy
stared down at Kurt silently. Kurt called out again, his voice
stern but kind. "I told you it's not safe to play on the roof. Now,
can you get down, or do you need help?" The boy didn't respond, but
a moment later, disappeared and then reappeared on the ground
before them, still staring up with wide eyes. Kurt ruffled his hair
and told him to go play with his sister before they continued on
their walk.

"His parents died last winter," Kurt
explained. "He and his sister live with their grandfather now." As
he spoke, he continually nodded greetings to people as they passed.
The deeper they went into the heart of the town, the more Liesel
felt pity for these strangers, despite her resolve to stay
unattached. She knew that the more she saw them as pitiable
victims, the more defensible Kurt's actions would be. It was hard
not to though.

For a village of two hundred years, the
people were sadly lacking. To begin with, Liesel saw no shops. When
pressed, Kurt said that some people sold their services from their
homes, like the tanner, the tailor, and the butcher. Others simply
did odd jobs, scrimping up a living in whatever way they could.

"We've tried to build shops," Kurt said,
frustration creasing his brow. "We've assigned jobs, organized
municipal building projects, such as a bridges, storehouses, even a
church. And they listen, doing what they're told, but...," his
words trailed off as he came to a stop and stood looking at the
saddest market Liesel had ever seen.

"They don't want to?" Liesel asked in spite
of herself.

"You must
want
to thrive in order to
do so," Kurt said with a frown.

"They've given up," Liesel whispered, more
to herself than Kurt. Most of the villagers' clothes were torn and
dirty. Hair, if cut at all, was chopped off roughly, as though with
a dull blade the way Kurt's had always been. In the gray light of
the forest floor, everyone appeared tired and listless, although it
was still barely noon. No work songs were shouted out, as Liesel
had grown used to hearing in Tag. Although she had been determined
to stay as disinterested as possible in order to fight the pack's
plans for her, Liesel could finally stand it no longer.

"What happens without a Pure Blood?" Liesel
remembered something about the magic failing from Mrs. Thull's
story, but how much could she have really known? Rumors were often
just that...rumors.

"Without a Pure Blood, everyone here above
the age of sixteen would lose every ounce of humanity left, and
every child would be left alone and without a guardian." Liesel
faltered a moment, and finally looked Kurt straight in the eye.

"Even you?"

"Especially me," he answered seriously.
"Every pack needs a leader. My wolf blood runs even thicker than
everyone else's."

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