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.
CHAPTER TEN
Goldie’s Wishes
Protection Spell
When faced with danger, have no fear
Take heaps of courage, a pinch of cheer
What a worthless spell! Who could possibly face this kind of danger with no fear? My whole body was flooded with fear. It was seeping from my pores, and the bear could probably smell it like bacon-wrapped pork chops.
She roared, showing fangs as long as my fingers.
Mine, she was saying.
“I’m going away now,” I said. “You needn�
�t be upset.”
But the bear was already too upset to listen. Just because I can communicate with animals doesn’t mean they won’t rip out my throat.
The bear lunged, swiping her claws at me. I raised my arm as the claws raked down my cloak, shoving me to the ground. One claw grazed the top of my cheek. Soon my name and destiny would be fulfilled. Red as blood.
I closed my eyes.
The end.
“Here, bear!” said a voice. Not my own. The bear grunted and turned. I squinted to see. Directly behind the bear was none other than Goldie. She was standing right in the swarm of bees, her hands full of dripping honeycomb.
“Here, bear, come get some honey!” she coaxed like she was talking to a puppy.
The bear grunted again but got down on all fours and lumbered toward Goldie. She backed away, waving the honeycomb, then threw it into the bear’s cave. The bear ambled to it, snuffling hungrily.
Goldie ran to me.
“How did you—”
“No time! Hurry, before the bear comes back!” She helped me to my feet, and we ran together, this time from a real bear, and I had the slightest twinge of guilt for the time I made Goldie think a bear was chasing her in The Woods when we first met. Real bears are quite a bit more terrifying than imaginary ones. We ran and ran until we were both out of breath, and then we collapsed against a tree.
“Great gourds!” said Goldie. “I thought you were going to be bear breakfast for certain!”
Goldie was a mess. Her curls were a ratty tangle, her dress was torn and smudged with dirt, and her face was covered in red welts. She had them on her hands, too, under all the sticky honey.
“Goldie,” I said, “you’re covered in bee stings.”
“I’m all right,” said Goldie, but I could tell by her swollen grimace that she wasn’t. Luckily, I knew a quick remedy for burns and stings. It was one of the first potions Granny taught me. It had only one ingredient, and I always carried it with me.
Soothing Salve
Witch spit
I spat on Goldie’s face several times.
“Ooh, gross! What are you doing? Is this how you thank people for saving you from certain death?”
“Rub it in,” I said. “It will help the pain.”
Goldie wiped her face, looking disgusted, but then I could tell it was helping. The swelling was going down, and her whole face relaxed.
“Spit on my hands,” she begged.
“But you didn’t say ‘please,’ ” I said in a teasing voice.
“Red!” she scolded.
I spat on each hand five times, once for each swollen finger. Goldie rubbed her hands together and sighed.
“How did you find me?” I asked.
“I didn’t,” said Goldie. “I found the honey hive. Is this one yours, too?”
“No,” I said.
“I thought not. I still couldn’t get the honey with all the bees swarming, and then the bear came, so I hid, and then you came, and I just knew that bear was going to eat you, so I thought, I have to get some honey, because bears like honey, of course! So I held my breath and braved the swarm and got the honey, and so you’re alive!”
“Goldie, you fool! You could have died from so many bee stings.” Goldie’s smile faltered. I bit my tongue.
Rude, ungrateful Red! Is that any way to thank someone for saving your life? By criticizing them? “But thank you,” I said. “That was very brave, and if you hadn’t nearly gotten stung to death, I’d surely be dead.”
She looked down and blushed, then gasped. “You’re bleeding!”
I lifted my hand. Blood trickled over my fingers. On my forearm, there was a gash about three inches long. I had forgotten that the bear had clawed me. I hadn’t even felt the pain until now, but with the excitement wearing off, the sting was setting in.
“Do you want me to spit on it?” said Goldie.
“No thank you,” I said. “It doesn’t help with cuts, only burns and stings.” I pressed my cloak over the wound to stop the bleeding.
“Well, at least your cloak isn’t destroyed. It suits you so well.”
I inspected my cloak. There wasn’t a single tear, not a thread out of place. It was completely whole. But how? I had distinctly felt the bear’s claws raking down my shoulder. Surely they should have ripped the fabric.
“Well, I suppose I should be on my way,” said Goldie, twiddling her fingers.
“What way is that?” I asked.
“I’m not sure exactly. I was still hoping to find another dwarf, see if he could help me get a love potion? But I don’t know which direction….”
Oh, bother, I’d forgotten about the love potion. “Goldie, I really think you should forget the love potion. Do you really want to make a boy love you? Even if it works, it won’t be real. Love isn’t love unless he chooses to love you, right?”
Goldie’s eyes went wide. Her chin trembled. “I don’t need the love potion for a boy. I need it for my mummy!”
“Your mummy?”
She nodded. Her eyes brimmed with tears. “Now that there’s no more gold in The Mountain, there’s nothing special about me, and Mummy doesn’t love me anymore.” The tears came pouring out, running in rivers down her cheeks.
I opened my mouth and closed it again. This was not what I had expected. Perhaps my mother thought me a little odd. She might not understand me like Granny did, but I never questioned that she loved me. All mothers love their children, don’t they?
Goldie turned and ran aimlessly through the trees. I could have let her go. I could have gone my own way, like I’d wanted to do from the start. But I couldn’t just abandon her. And I couldn’t really blame Goldie for wanting magic to get back someone she loved. Isn’t that what I wanted, too?
I sighed. “Goldie, wait!”
I found her sprawled facedown in the dirt, sobbing. Soon she’d create her own swamp.
“I’m sorry I sent you away before,” I said.
Goldie stopped crying, but she didn’t get up.
I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what I was about to say. “You can still come with me. If you want. Of course, you probably don’t…”
Goldie lifted her face off the ground. She had dirt smeared all over her, and her eyes were red and puffy, but they were hopeful. “Do you mean it?”
I nodded, and I realized that I did mean it. Even though she talked a lot and her bouncy golden curls made me dizzy, Goldie was slowly growing on me. And after last night, I really didn’t want to be alone. “But you have to keep up,” I said. “No dillydallying.”
“Okay,” said Goldie. She got up, brushed herself off, and wiped her tears, smearing more dirt across her nose and cheeks.
“Are you still looking for the well?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Perhaps it could help me with Mummy, too. Do you think it could?”
“I don’t see how it could, but who knows? We could find something else along the way.”
“Right,” said Goldie. “Then we haven’t a moment to lose. We must find love and life or die trying!” She marched away with long, purposeful strides.
“This way, Goldie,” I said.
“Oh. Yes, of course.” She whipped around, and we continued along the river.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
A Bend in the River
“I didn’t ever think we’d be friends,” said Goldie, hopping from a log to a stone. Then she darted to a patch of buttercups and picked a handful.
“I didn’t, either,” I said. Our reunion seemed to renew Goldie’s boisterous energy, making her as dizzying and annoying as ever, but I took it all in stride. Goldie said we were friends. No one except Rump had ever called me that, and I found it gave me a sort of warm, sweet feeling inside.
“Everyone told me to stay away from you, because of your name.” She twirled a buttercup between her fingers. “And also because they said you’re a witch, of course, but I think that just goes to show they didn’t really know you. You’re a
little scary at first, but that’s mostly because you frown a lot.”
“I frown a lot?”
“Yes, you’re frowning now.” Goldie spun around me, then skipped ahead of me. She was like a hummingbird. She darted this way and that, taking twenty steps for every one of mine, and prattling a hundred words for each of mine. She was a girl who magnified and multiplied everything, and yet it had the backward effect of exhausting me while energizing her.
“I’m hungry,” said Goldie. “Do you have any food?”
“Catch!” I tossed a few of the berries from my apron pocket, and they all bounced off her face. “Almost. Try again.” I threw just one berry, and Goldie caught it in her mouth. I rewarded her with a handful, which she promptly devoured.
“Do you think you can sense red things like I sense golden things?” she asked, juice running down her mouth.
“Maybe,” I said. I had never really thought about this, but it seemed reasonable. I did find a lot of wild raspberries and strawberries and plums, but I always assumed they were simply plentiful in The Woods and easy to find and it had little to do with destiny. Destiny wasn’t something I was so certain about anyway. I knew names were powerful, and sometimes things happened that we had no control over, but I disliked the idea that I couldn’t determine my own future. I wanted to decide for myself how things would go for me. I supposed that was why I was here now, searching for a magic well, because destiny had delivered bad news. I was going to give destiny a good punch in the face.
“I’m still hungry,” said Goldie when the berries were gone. “Maybe we can catch some fish.” She started toward the water.
“Don’t be stupid,” I said. “Don’t you remember the sprites?”
Goldie scowled. “I remember the sprites. I just thought maybe some fish would be nice.”
I looked away, remorse needling me. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I just thought you might have forgotten.”
“Well, I didn’t,” she said. “I never forget anything.” She lifted her chin and walked faster. So I walked faster, too, and then she went faster, so I went faster, and then Goldie ran, so I ran, too. We raced down the river. I pulled ahead of Goldie, and I was pretty proud of myself until—
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