Red (6 page)

“Goldie, no!” I grabbed her by her curls and yanked her back so we both fell on the muddy bank. More sprites rose out of the water, reaching for us with webbed hands.

“Take my hand!”

“Don't be afraid!”

“We'll give you all that you wish!”

“Go away!” I shouted, tugging Goldie farther away from the river and into the trees.

“Ouch!” she cried. “What are you doing? She said she would give me anything I want!”

“It's a lie.”

“But—”

“Don't ever go near the sprites,” I scolded. “If you touch them, they'll drag you to the bottom of the river.”

“How do you know?” Goldie asked.

“Because my granny said so.”

“How does your granny know? Because she's The Witch of The Woods?”

I ignored her question. “Let's just keep walking. We're wasting daylight.”

But Goldie was persistent. She was like a pecking hen. “I'll bet your granny knows a lot about magic, doesn't she?”

“A fair amount,” I said.

“And I'll bet she taught you, right? Can you do lots of spells and make potions and things?”

“No,” I said, and walked a little faster. “I don't do magic.”

“Why not? If I knew how to do magic, I'd use it all the time!”

“You think that until you make a mess of it. Magic can cause all kinds of problems.”

“You told me that before. Give me a real example. Not just something you made up. Something that really happened.”

I sighed and rubbed my temples. I felt a sudden headache. “I nearly killed Granny once,” I said. “A long time ago, I was performing a spell and I made a tree fall down on Granny and she almost died.”

“Oh,” said Goldie, and I thought that was the end of it, but then she said, “Maybe you just need some practice. Mummy said I fell down a lot when I was learning to walk. I got cuts and bruises, and I even knocked out my front teeth when I tripped over a bucket and smacked my mouth on the fireplace.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I kept walking, even though I sometimes got hurt. I kept trying until I got better and stopped getting hurt.”

“But that's different,” I said. “Walking is the simplest thing in the world.”

“It's simple now, but it wasn't always. Some mistakes need to be made. Sometimes we have to fall down before we can stand up.”

She said this all with an air of great wisdom that had the effect of annoying me greatly. “If you had almost killed someone by walking, would you still get up?”

Goldie folded her arms and gave me a disapproving look, as though she were my mother. “If magic is so dangerous, why are you trying to find magic now to save your granny?”

“That's different.”

“How?”

“It's not
my
magic. I'm searching for magic that someone else made that will make Granny better.”

“So not all magic is bad?”

“No, but that doesn't—”

“So why are you telling me I shouldn't look for a love potion? It's no different than what you're doing. You're just afraid, same as me.”

“I am not afraid,” I said, and I felt my temper rising. The heat inside me was bubbling up, ready to boil over. “And I don't want to talk about this anymore.” I walked a little faster.

“I was only trying to help,” said Goldie, running to catch up.

“Stick to walking. You've had more practice.” I walked even faster.

“You're rude!” Goldie shouted.

“And you're nosy.”

“You're bossy.”

I couldn't take this one more second. I spun around and roared in Goldie's face, “Yes, I am bossy! Now stop following me!”

Goldie winced as though she'd been stung. “I'm sorry, what did you say?”

“I'm going on my own from here. You should go home before it gets dark.”

“But…I can help you. Don't you want help? I've always been very helpful, even Mummy says so.”

I gritted my teeth and balled my hands into fists. If I opened them, I was certain streams of fire would shoot out of my palms. “The only way you could possibly help is by
going away.
”

Goldie sniffed. Then tears spilled down her cheeks and she took off at a run. I could hear her wailing for a good long minute before it finally faded.

Good riddance! Goldie was gone, and at last I was alone. Just the way I preferred it. Finally I could hear myself think.

A cricket hopped across my feet, chirping loudly.

Harsh! Harsh! Harsh!

“Well, how else was I supposed to get rid of her?” I retorted. “She was driving me nuts!”

Harsh! Harsh! Harsh!

“Oh, go away. Now
you're
driving me nuts.” The cricket hopped away, still chirping his chastisements.

Why should I feel guilty for dismissing Goldie? I hadn't invited her in the first place, and she had been slowing me down. It was already afternoon.

I ran for a bit to make up ground, enjoying the cool breeze and the sounds of birds and squirrels.

Rude!
a squirrel squeaked at another for pulling her tail.

Bossy!
chirped a bird to his mate as she ordered him about.

“Oh, be quiet!” I barked.

The sun sank behind the mountains as I walked on, casting the river and trees in shadow. I instantly started to shiver. That's when I realized I didn't have my cloak. I must have left it by the campsite. I couldn't very well go back and get it.

It got darker and colder. The thought of Goldie made me shiver again. I hoped she would get home all right, but what if she didn't? What if she ran into a wolf or bear or mountain lion?

The moon rose, revealing the river turned inky black and shadowy trees swaying in the breeze. I wrapped my arms tight around myself. It was considerably colder than last night. I needed warmth. I needed a fire.

I gathered some sticks, dry leaves, and pine boughs. I piled them all up and then struck two stones together, trying to make a spark, but none came. I hit the stones against each other again and again until I got so frustrated I hurled them. A few mice squeaked and skittered away. They thought the stones were owls coming to eat them.
I
could eat the mice. I was hungry enough.

And so cold. If I couldn't make a fire, I might freeze to death. I certainly wouldn't be able to sleep.

Goldie's words needled me.

You're just afraid.

Pfffft!
I was never afraid. Fire was magic at which I excelled. I concentrated all my energy on the pile of sticks and leaves and snapped my fingers. I felt the magic sputter inside me. A slight breeze rushed over my little pile, but no fire came. Not even a spark. Of course. The one time I actually
wanted
to start a fire, only the wind blew. Less than an hour ago, I had felt I could spew fire out of my nostrils.

I tried it again. I snapped my fingers and flicked out my hands to make the magic come. This time a bigger wind came. It rushed through the trees and scattered my sticks and leaves. Even the clouds shifted overhead, covering the moon. Had
I
done that?

I gave up on the fire. With my luck, I would probably set myself on fire or blow myself away in the wind. That wouldn't do Granny any good.

I piled up the leaves and sticks again and then nestled myself inside them. I hugged my knees to my chest. The wind whistled through the trees. The clouds blackened, and a drop of rain splashed on my nose, then another and another, until the sky tore open and emptied its contents. I was soaked in seconds. I crawled on my hands and knees beneath a pine tree and curled my knees to my chest. The rain pounded, the wind rushed, and the thunder rumbled.

I shivered violently. So cold. I hoped Goldie had gotten home all right. I wished I hadn't yelled at her. I wished I wasn't alone.

I
wasn't
alone.

Something was near. I couldn't see it, but I sensed it, the powerful presence of a wild beast. I sat up and scanned the black trees.

I saw his eyes first, a soft green glow that lit the black shape of him. The wolf moved slowly and silently through the trees, eyes locked on me. It was like he had followed me all this time, watching me become weak and helpless so he could attack. Well, I might be lost and cold and hungry, but I wasn't weak or helpless. I grabbed a stick and stood up.

“Hey!” I shouted.

The wolf stopped mid-stride. Lightning flashed, and I saw that he was carrying something in his jaws—a rabbit or weasel, perhaps. Clearly he had already caught his supper, but that hadn't stopped him with Granny's pigs. Maybe he was after a second helping.

I raised the stick. “Get! Go away, you monster!” He took another step toward me. I threw the stick.

The wolf dropped whatever he was holding and dashed away.

I bent down to inspect it. It wasn't a rabbit, or any animal at all.

It was my red cloak.

I picked it up and flung it around my shoulders, throwing the hood over my head. I was instantly warmed down to my toes. Oh, glorious cloak!

The wolf may have saved my life. And I had been so harsh. I called him a monster.

Who was the monster here?

Far away, the wolf gave a high, lonesome howl.

Come!
he called. His howl made him sound lonely and afraid, like a small child lost in The Woods.

I shuddered. I wasn't cold anymore, but the mournful cry rushed through me like a cold wind.

Come!

The wolf howled for a long time. No other wolves responded, but I listened until I fell asleep.

I woke the next morning stiff and hungry, my mouth dry as ash, but at least I had been warm through the night. I sat up and the red cloak slid off me, pricking my memory of the night before. I glanced around, searching for the wolf. I was still confused as to why he had helped me, but grateful nonetheless. It would have been a cold, restless night without the cloak.

I walked to the riverbank and checked for sprites. Seeing none, I bent down and drank until my belly was full, but I was still hungry. A red-breasted robin hopped toward the bank and pulled a worm out of the ground. A deer and her fawn grazed contentedly on some grass. Everyone was having breakfast except me. I filled my pockets with what berries I could find and ate as I walked. No time to waste.

The river seemed to flow in a straight line forever, but it was a beautiful morning. I tilted my head to the buttery sunshine. The hills in the distance rose like mounds of green salad, and the rocky cliffs along the river were like torn chunks of brown bread. Oh, I was just so hungry!

Something splashed in the water behind me, and I jumped back, clutching a tree, but it wasn't a sprite. It was the wolf, leg-deep in the river. I relaxed slightly. He dipped his head beneath the water, and when he came back up, he had a fat fish in his mouth. He flung it onto the riverbank, then dunked back in and had another fish in seconds.

The wolf picked up both fish with his jaws and then padded over to me. I stepped back a little. The wolf slowed. He dropped a fish just a few feet in front of me and dipped his head, inviting me to take it.

“For me?” I asked.

He barked.

Eat,
he said, and nudged the fish toward me with his nose.

His eyes were so bright and keen. Again, I sensed greater intelligence behind his words, and my own magic wasn't enough to fully understand him.

I vaguely remembered an animal charm Granny had taught me when I was little, maybe five or six. Before the accident. She had seen that I loved the animals in The Woods, and I already had a natural ability to understand them, wild girl that I was.

Animal Charm

Squeak or growl, fur or feather

Beast and human come together

Tree or sky, lake or land

Flesh to fur, paw to hand

“Everyone has a particular animal they bond best to,” Granny had told me. “When you find the right one, you'll feel it, and this charm will connect you in a more powerful way. You'll be able to hear their thoughts—even feel their energy and emotions. I was always partial to birds, but I'm not sure that's quite your animal….”

No, of course not. Anyone named Red would be drawn to something much more vicious and wild.

I felt a tugging inside me, to move closer, to touch the wolf, but I stepped on a stick that snapped and the wolf bolted away. Well, I would enjoy the fish anyway. In the wolf's honor, I ate it raw. It was delicious.

My hunger satisfied, I continued on my journey with new vigor. I skipped stones in the river, and the fish jumped. The birds trilled, and I whistled with them. A woodpecker pecked in the distance, keeping rhythm with our song.

A bee landed on my shoulder, then another bee buzzed in my ear. A few steps farther, and suddenly there were bees everywhere.
What I wouldn't give for some honey right now.

I followed the sound of buzzing down a gentle slope and then up a rocky hillside with caves and little crevices, perfect for a beehive. The bees swarmed around a narrow crevice. I approached them slowly until I saw the opening of the hive. My cloak was almost entirely covered with bees now, and I could practically taste the honey.

And then a deep growl echoed from one of the caves.

I froze.

The growl came again. A big brown bear, five times my size, emerged from the cave. She was warning me to leave. I had trespassed on her territory, and she felt threatened. Bears are most dangerous when they feel threatened. I backed away from the hive, slowly, so as not to spook the bees. As soon as I was far enough away, I turned to run.

And came face to face with another bear. A small one.

The big bear lumbered toward me. She rose on her hind legs and roared, slashing her claws through the air.

My cub! Get away!

The horror of the situation dawned on me. I was standing between a mama bear and her cub.