Red (5 page)

“I want to send a message to my parents, Agnes and Thomas.”

But the gnome did not calm down. “Lemme go! Lemme go!” He thrashed and flailed his little limbs, and then he bit me.

“Ouch!” I let go and he fell to the ground. There were teeth marks on my pointer finger. Blood dripped down my hand. Never, ever would a gnome bite a person who wanted to send a message.

I looked down at the creature and inspected him more closely. He was slightly bigger than most gnomes, and his features were sharp and shrewd. He was all points: pointy nose, pointy ears, pointy beard. He wore a pointy hat, too, and long, pointy shoes. He glared at me, pointedly, with dark intelligent eyes. This was not the blank stare of a gnome.

“You're a dwarf!” I said.

“And you're a big ugly girl!” The dwarf kicked me in the shin and ran away.

I rubbed my shin and pressed my bleeding hand into my apron. I'd searched for a dwarf for years, but my first encounter was not as magical as I'd imagined. Little brute!

“A dwarf!” Goldie was astonished. “I've never seen a dwarf before! He wasn't very friendly, was he?”

No. He wasn't. But then I remembered what Granny had taught me about dwarves. If you caught one by the beard, it had to do whatever you asked—guide you wherever you wished to go.

I sucked in my pain and ran after the dwarf.

“Where are you going?” Goldie asked.

“To catch a dwarf!”

“Goodness, you certainly like chasing things, don't you?”

I ignored Goldie and instead focused on my pursuit. Curses, the dwarf was fast! Much faster than a gnome. I chased him over a rock and around a tree. I leapt over shrubs. He was just about to escape down a hole when I dove and caught him by the foot. The dwarf spat insults and tried to bite me again, until I grasped him by his pointy black beard.

“Lemme go! Gerroff! Gerroff, you stinking human!” He flailed and twisted and kicked, but I held fast to his beard. What now? Was there something I had to say? A spell or incantation? Granny had never said.

“Oh, Dwarf,” I proclaimed. “I take thee by the beard and—er—request your assistance on my journey.”

The dwarf stopped his flailing. He turned red as a radish and glared at me. “You nasty little witch!” He took a small ax from his waist and smacked my arm with the flat side, right on my funny bone. I dropped the dwarf.

“Ouch! You little monster!” I rubbed my elbow and shook my arm.

The dwarf stood with his ax over his shoulder, glaring up at me as though he wanted to chop me to bits.

“I don't think he appreciated you grabbing his beard,” Goldie whispered.

“What do you want?” the dwarf asked sharply.

“A love potion, please,” said Goldie.

The dwarf eyed Goldie as though she were a cockroach. “I wasn't asking
you.
” He turned back to me, impatiently waiting for my answer. I opened my mouth and shut it again.

Goldie's request gave me an idea. I had planned to ask the dwarf how to catch a nymph, but even if I succeeded in making the Cure-All, Granny could get sick again.

Everyone dies.

But did everyone
have
to die?

Granny always says that life is magic. Everyone has magic, even if they don't know it. Magic is what makes them alive. So if life is magic, and Granny was dying, then what was really dying was her magic. It was fading from her. But did it have to fade? What if that magic could be replenished? What if there was a way to live forever?

I'd seen death on The Mountain. I'd heard the bell chime thirteen times and the endless cries and wails of those who mourned the loss of loved ones. Some people never recovered from their grief. Some people were lost without their loved ones. Death was awful, and all these thoughts came down to one simple fact:

I didn't want Granny to die. Not ever.

And now I had within my grasp a possible key to saving her. Dwarves knew things. Secret things. Magic things.

“My granny is very sick,” I began.

“I can give you directions to an apothecary, herbalist, physician—” The dwarf rattled off different options with a glazed expression.

“No,” I interrupted, “I don't need any of those. I want to know…That is, could you possibly…Do you know of some magic that could keep someone alive? Forever?”

The dwarf's eyebrows rose to two sharp points. “Ah, death. The human tragedy. Your pitifully short existence is not enough for you. You fear
the end.
”

I put my hands on my hips. “I'm not afraid. I'm just trying to help my granny and you're not helping. You're supposed to do as I ask. Or do I need to snatch your beard again?”

The dwarf stepped back and grabbed his beard protectively. “Oh, begging your pardon,
master,
” he said in a poisonous voice. “I
can
tell you of magic that could make you live forever, but it all depends on how far you're willing to go.”

I thought of Granny, how miserable and alone I would be if I didn't have her. “To the ends of the earth,” I said.

“That's what they all say,” said the dwarf with a smile, but not a friendly one. His teeth were too large for his face. It made him look rather sinister. But I refused to be frightened of him. I had taken him by the beard, and he had to do as I said. He had to help.

“Tell me what you know,” I commanded.

“Of course, of course,” he said. “I know of three ways to stop death, but I am only obligated to direct you to one.”

Three ways to stop death! This was fortunate. Even if I couldn't find one, or it didn't work for some reason, I could search for the others.

“Tell me,” I said.

“The first magic can be found in a well,” he began. “At first glance, it seems an ordinary well, except it contains not water but wine, red wine. Any who drink this wine will have their youth restored to them.”

“That sounds lovely!” said Goldie. “Can you imagine always being young and beautiful?” Goldie sighed. I tried to ignore her and focus on what the dwarf had said.

A well of wine. I imagined Granny drinking wine that brought back not only her strength but all her youth and beauty. She was always talking about how beautiful she used to be. Wouldn't she love to be young and beautiful again?

“The second magic,” said the dwarf, “can be found at an enchanted castle. Within the very center of its garden are Red Roses. Magic roses that bloom all year round. Prick your finger on a thorn, give a drop of blood to the earth, and you will never die.”

A rose. Yes. Granny's name was Rose Red. Red roses would suit her very well.

“I like roses,” spouted Goldie, “but I shouldn't like to prick my finger. Mummy told me a story of a girl who pricked her finger and she fell asleep for a hundred years!”

“But that wasn't a rose, was it?” I said.

“No, it was a spindle, of course,” said Goldie.

“Right. Thorns are different from spindles.” I turned back to the dwarf, who was tapping his pointed shoe impatiently. “And the third magic?” I asked.

“It is called The Magic Hearts.”

“Magic Hearts?” It sounded sappy, like something from old tales about how the best magic comes from the heart, but that wouldn't be useful to my situation.

The dwarf nodded. “Those who possess The Magic Hearts will never die, but only grow stronger. This magic is possibly the most powerful of the three.”

Powerful. I did like the sound of that, but I needed to know more before I could decide. “Exactly how does one possess these hearts? Do you collect them like tokens or charms?”

The dwarf shrugged. “Few know of this magic's existence, and I cannot say where it is found. I can only tell you that it exists.”

“Why tell me about it if you can't tell me where it is?”

“You demanded the information, so it is my obligation to tell you,” the dwarf sneered.

“Um, excuse me, Mr. Dwarf,” chirped Goldie, “but are these Magic Hearts by chance similar to a love potion? Because they sound very much like one.”

The dwarf acted like he could neither see nor hear Goldie. “Now you must choose,
master.
” His voice dripped with disdain. “To which magic shall I direct you?”

Which magic? Wine. Roses. Hearts. Each sounded equally promising and equally elusive. I liked the sound of The Wine Well, because Granny would love being young again. What if we could be girls together? She could be like my sister. We'd race through The Woods, climb trees, and talk to all the animals.

I liked the sound of the roses because Granny loved roses, and she was Rose. It made sense, but what if she had to pick the rose herself for it to work? And The Magic Hearts…the dwarf said they were the most powerful of the three, but I had no idea what I'd be searching
for,
and he said even he didn't know where to find them, so it really wouldn't help me to request directions to that one.

“I like the hearts one the best,” Goldie whispered in my ear. “Pick that one.”

I brushed her off like a buzzing insect. “I'll pick whichever one I please, thank you.”

“Well?” said the dwarf. “Which is it?”

I took a breath. “The Wine Well,” I said. “Tell me where the well is.”

The dwarf smiled his big, unnerving smile. “A fine choice.” He pointed a stubby finger downstream. “Follow the stream until it becomes a river. When the river bends to the east, you go west and up the mountainside until you come to a large boulder shaped like a fish jumping out of the water. From the fish boulder, you travel north until you come to a graveyard.”

“A graveyard!” Goldie shivered.

I didn't like it, either, but I wasn't about to say so. I tried to sound brave. “And is the well in the graveyard?”

“No,” said the dwarf. “But in the graveyard, the trees whisper.”

“Whisper?” I asked. “Are the trees full of nymphs?”

The dwarf seemed almost impressed. “A human who knows of tree nymphs!”

“We've been trying to catch one,” said Goldie. “But it's very difficult.”

“Yes,” said the dwarf. “Slippery as a memory, those nymphs, but they will lead you the rest of the way.”

“To the well?” I asked.

The dwarf nodded. “Tree nymphs are fond of the well and fond of sharing it with others.”

I nodded. Perhaps the tree nymphs had been trying to lead me there all along. Maybe they themselves drank from The Wine Well and that's why their wings had curing powers. Now instead of catching a nymph, I could go directly to the source of power.

“Thank you, Dwarf,” I said. “You've been very helpful. I hope to catch your beard again someday.”

The dwarf scowled, his eyes dark as coal. “Drink deeply of the wine. Its effects are most beneficial.” He hopped across the stream, leaping nimbly from stone to stone, and disappeared in the tall grass. A wicked little laugh trailed behind him.

“He wasn't at all pleasant,” said Goldie. “Do you suppose all dwarves are like that?”

“Granny says so,” I said, and walked quickly along the stream.

Goldie trotted to catch up with me. “Do you think we'll make it to the well before nightfall?”

“We? You weren't planning to come with me, were you?”

“Of course! You'll need a companion for your journey. You don't wish to be alone in The Woods. It's so spooky!”

As a matter of fact, that is precisely what I wished. “That's very kind of you, but—”

I stopped short and stared down at my feet. My path was gone. Goldie stood right next to me. No shock had steered her away. No wind had forced her off. I stomped my feet, trying to make my path reappear. It didn't. I turned around and walked back until it appeared again beneath my feet, stretching in the direction of home but not in the direction I wanted to travel.

“What's wrong?” Goldie asked. “Did you forget something?”

“No,” I said. I'd never been in The Woods without my path, not since that day with the bear. But what choice did I have? The well was in one direction, and Granny was in the other, alone, sick, dying. I heard her words echo inside me.

Don't be afraid.

I wasn't afraid. I wouldn't be. I took a breath and stepped off my path.

I walked as quickly as I could, with Goldie skipping boisterously beside me. Without my path, I felt exposed and vulnerable. My heart thrummed as fast as a rabbit's. I felt skittish as a rabbit, too, jumping at every noise and movement in The Woods.

Goldie's presence was like a swarm of mosquitoes. Every word she spoke, every little movement she made, was like an itchy bite, and her curls made me dizzy. They bounced more than grasshoppers. I wanted to take an ax and chop them all off. Or her head. That might be nice. But I bet even if I chopped off her head, she'd keep talking.

“Mummy named me Goldie so I would find lots of gold, of course, and for a while it really worked. It's like I could smell the gold between the rocks, and Mummy and Daddy were so proud of me. Now there's no gold in The Mountain anymore, but I can sense other things that are golden, too, like yellow flowers and honey, and so I'm not completely worthless, though some people think so.” She sighed. I imagined she was thinking of the boy she wanted to give a love potion to.

Daylight faded quickly, and the air grew chill. If I had my path, I would continue on in the dark, but without it I could be attacked by bears, mountain lions, and wolves.

“We'd better stop for the night,” I said. “It's getting dark.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” said Goldie, looking around. “Where will we stay? Is there an inn nearby? Do you suppose they'll have a supper? I'm quite hungry. And I wouldn't mind a soft bed.”

“There's not an inn or village for miles, Goldie. We'll have to sleep in The Woods.”

“Sleep in The Woods! You can't be serious!”

I shook my head. “You're welcome to go back to the village. You can stay in any of the houses there. I'm sure no one will mind.”

Goldie tugged anxiously at her curls and glanced back the way we had come. I half expected her to turn around and march straight home, but she didn't.

“Well, I suppose every quest has its risks,” she said, and went to work, humming as she scooped leaves for her bed. I sighed and gathered leaves and pine needles for my own bed.

It was a long, restless night. Goldie chattered endlessly, telling me all about her mummy and whatnot, and when she finally fell asleep, she snored like a bear in a cave. I tossed and turned, and just when I was on the brink of sleep, a wolf howled.

Come,
he said. He was calling for his pack, but he never got an answer.

The next morning I awoke to the most horrid cheerfulness.

“Wake up, Red! It's a glorious morning!”

It took me a moment to remember where I was and who was with me. I was in The Woods with Goldie, and I'd had the worst night's sleep of my life.

“Leave me alone,” I grumbled, and pulled my cloak over my head.

“But it's so sunshiny and pretty! And I picked you some flowers. Here, smell them.”

Goldie shoved something beneath my cloak, and my nose was accosted by a bunch of blossoms and their overwhelming perfume. “Get away—
aaaahaaaaCHOO!
”

“Oh, dear, I'm sorry. Let me help you.” Goldie reached down to pick me up. I tried to slip under her arm, but my hair got tangled in one of her buttons.

“Aaaargh!”

“Oh! I'm sorry! I got it.” Goldie yanked on my hair.

“Grrrrrr!”

“Hold still!”

“You hold still!” We wrestled and I growled until I finally ripped myself free, and we both tumbled back at the very moment an arrow hit the ground right between us.

Horst tore through the brush, his bow nocked with an arrow. “Ha! I got you, you wily…girls?”

Goldie and I sat frozen on the ground.

“Where's the wolf?” Horst swatted at the trees and brush, surely frightening every creature within a mile.

“There's no wolf,” I said. “Only us.”

“Shhhhh. I heard him growling just now.”

“That was Red,” said Goldie.

“Who's Red?”

“Her.” Goldie pointed at me.

“That's a girl. Not a wolf.”

“She's a very growly girl.”

Horst huffed in frustration. “Well, what are you doing all the way out here growling like a wolf?”

“We're on a quest!” said Goldie.

“A quest?” Horst asked. “What kind of quest?”

“To save Red's granny!”

“The witch? What's wrong with her?”

“She's dying, so we're going to find—”

“Ingredients,” I cut Goldie off. “We're gathering ingredients. For medicine.” I sent Goldie a sharp look. I didn't think it wise to make our true quest widely known.

Horst nodded, a look of pity in his eyes. “Death is a terrible thing. Terrible.”

“It's only a cold,” I said.

“Well, a cold can kill an old person,” he said gruffly. “And even if they do get better, everyone dies eventually, don't they?”

I flinched, feeling the sting of his words.

“Excuse me,” said Horst. “That was rude, wasn't it? Don't pay any attention to old Horst. I'll tell you what. You help me, I'll help you.”

“How?” I asked.

“Old Horst knows a thing or two about staying alive. I've survived more than colds.” He laughed a wheezy laugh. He wasn't exactly the picture of health, and I doubted he knew as much as Granny or dwarves about staying alive, no matter his age, but I thought it would be impolite to say so.

“What do you want from me?”

“You seen a wolf in these parts? Big black beast?”

“Sometimes,” I said.

“I've been tracking him for months, but he's slippery as a ghost, always evading me. If you help me catch the wolf, I might be able to help your granny with that cold of hers. Horst knows a thing or two, yes?”

Horst hobbled over and plucked his arrow from the ground. As he bent down, I noticed a pouch dangling around his neck. It was a leather pouch about the size of my fist. I wondered what was inside it. Gold? Gems? Teeth?

Horst straightened up, bones creaking in a dozen different places. “If you see the wolf, just—”

Something rustled in the bushes. Horst lifted his bow. A gopher darted out and skittered away. Horst shot and missed. He grumbled and hobbled over to retrieve his arrow again.

Poor Horst. He couldn't possibly last much longer.

“We'd better get going,” I said. “Lots of ingredients to gather.”

“Don't forget,” said Horst, “if you see that wolf, you call for Horst!”

I nodded. “Come on, Goldie.” I was anxious to be on our way.

“Goodbye, Mr. Huntsman!” Goldie waved.

As we drew farther away, I glanced over my shoulder. Horst was watching us through the trees.

We walked along the river for most of the morning. The river was straight for as far as I could see, and I was beginning to doubt the dwarf's directions. Had he misled me somehow? Tricked me? We walked for three miles, perhaps four. The terrain became rougher, and the trees grew thicker along the river, making it difficult to travel with any sort of speed. My legs grew sore and my energy waned quickly.

“I'm hungry,” Goldie said at almost the exact moment I thought it. With Horst's surprise appearance, I had forgotten all about breakfast. “I wish I would have thought to bring some food on this journey. It's always a good idea.”

“The Woods are full of food,” I said. “We can find some berries.” I searched through the trees and shrubs until I found a wild raspberry bush. Goldie and I ate right off the bush until our hands were stained with the juice.

“Now I'm thirsty,” said Goldie.

“The Woods have water, too.” We went to the riverbank and slurped the cold water from our hands.

“Let's rest a moment,” I said. I unlaced my shoes, peeled off my stockings, and dipped my feet in the water. I gasped at the shock of its icy coldness, but it felt good on my sore feet. I waded in a little farther, hiking up my skirt. The current tugged at my legs, but the surface was smooth as glass, so I could glimpse my own reflection staring back. My hair was a tangled mess and my face was smudged with dirt. I looked wild, like some creature of the trees. I saw another face, too, one quite different from my own. I whirled around to see who stood behind me, but no one was there except Goldie.

“What is it?” she asked, noticing my alarm.

I looked back. The face was still there. It was that of a woman, ethereally beautiful, with pale blue eyes and hair like gossamer. Her skin was ghostly white, and her ears were pointed.

This was no reflection. It was a water sprite.

I stumbled back, splashing wildly, and scrambled onto the bank.

“What's wrong?” asked Goldie.

“There's a sprite,” I warned.

“Sprites!” said Goldie. “Where?” She leaned over the water, but I tugged her back.

“Don't go near it!”

The sprite rose from the water like a ghost from its grave. She floated forward, her sparkling fins swirling around her like a silken gown.

“Come,” said the sprite. “I will give you your heart's desire.” Her voice was rich, a dark liquid, sweet as molasses spreading on my tongue.

Granny had told me about water sprites. They were known for luring people in with false promises and bewitching words, but the moment you touched them, they would drag you beneath the water and feed on all your wishes, sucking out your very soul.

The sprite stretched forth a hand, slender and webbed between the fingers. She looked so delicate, so harmless. Her beauty was captivating.

“What do you wish?” she said. “I can give you all that you desire and more.” She reached her hand toward me. I stepped closer. All that I wished. Could she save Granny? Our fingers were almost touching. The sprite smiled, showing mossy teeth.

I pulled my hand back. No. She could not save Granny, nor me. I knew better.

But Goldie did not. She was at the river's edge now with another sprite.

The sprite spoke to her and Goldie reached out her hand.