Girl in the Red Hood (7 page)

"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.