Red's Untold Tale (28 page)

My eyes widened and I hid my smile behind my hand. I caught Granny's eye from across the town hall. Her hands were fisted to her side, and her lips were curled into a little smile. Though
thirty-or-so folks were between us, it felt like we were standing side by side.

“But, Father, the hunters are going to kill the wolves tonight,” Florence called out in her shrill voice, and I turned along with the other villagers to see her in the back of the
room. “We have faith in our hunters to get the job done.”

The young people around her pumped their fists in the air in agreement, shouting, “Kill the wolves!” and “It's our time! Nothing is going to take our special night away
from us!”

With her arms crossed over her chest and a smug expression on her face, Violet looked like a statue standing in the midst of the commotion.

They quieted down when the mayor rang the bell. “I have faith in them as well,” he said. “However, even if our courageous and competent hunters slay all the wolves they can,
there is simply no way of knowing for sure whether or not they've eliminated the beast responsible for Amos Slade's demise. As Miss Lucas brought up, no harm will come from rescheduling
the Forget-Me-Not ball so that it falls on a night that is not during Wolfstime.”

“But the ball has always been held on the eve of the Flower Moon,” said Violet. “It's one of the long-running traditions for our village. What will be next? Rescheduling
Christmas for July?” Again, the young people voiced their support of her cause.

“If it means keeping our village safe, the answer is yes,” said the mayor as he glanced down at the scroll. “Now, let's move on. It's come to my attention that many
of you are disgruntled about the new fee being charged to market vendors. And here to inform us more about this new decree is Hershel Worthington, the royal tax collector.”

Once Mr. Worthington took the stand, Peter nudged me, and I looked over to see Violet snaking her way through the people, headed straight for us. “She's not used to being shut
down,” he said.

“I think she's handling it quite well, actually,” I said. “She looks rather becoming with a beet red face and steam blowing out of her ears, don't you
think?”

Peter chuckled. “Speaking of beets, looks like the tax man's vegetable-dodging skills could use some work.” Sure enough, there were smears of red, purple, and green on the back
of his shirt. As soon as Violet sidled up to us, he stopped laughing and said, “Good show, Violet.”

But she ignored him and leaned her face toward mine. “You and your grandmother have gone way too far,” she said, her hands on her hips and her eyes ablaze. “The Forget-Me-Not
ball is going to happen when it's supposed to, even if the mayor has forbidden it.”

“Well, then, as my granny said, you'll be a bunch of dead idiots,” I said calmly.

Violet frowned and stepped back. “Can't you see, Red? It's nothing but a load of hype, meant to keep us quaking with false fear. The old fogies of this village want us to stay
behind locked windows and doors—where they can keep close watch over us.”

I had to admit, I was sick of being on lockdown, too. I was sick of the wolves terrorizing our village. I could only fantasize about a place where I could sleep peacefully at night, without
having to make my home a fortress against the ferocious beasts. I longed to go someplace where I didn't have to look over my shoulder—where I could walk past a shadow, or hear a
mysterious noise, and not have the little hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. A place I could go out to fetch the eggs and not have to fear that our chickens had been slaughtered. Most of
all, I wanted to live someplace where I didn't have to constantly be afraid for my life or for the lives of my neighbors.

Maybe if I went in search of Lake Nostos, I would find such a place. Wait, what was I thinking? The whole notion of going on a quest for a fairy-tale lake was ridiculous. The wizard might have
been a man of magical integrity once upon a time. After all, my own grandmother and mother went to him for magic. But who was to say he hadn't lost his marbles between then and now? And yet,
if I never tried to find the lake, Granny would have to live with her pain for the rest of her years, and I couldn't bear to think that way.

“Come on, Violet. What about Mr. Slade?” Peter asked, patting the pitiable hound on its back. “That's not just some tale out of a storybook. It really happened. With our
own eyes, we saw him lying in a pool of his own blood, surrounded by giant wolf tracks.”

“He was a very old man,” Violet said with a little shrug. “He split off from the hunting party, and he was too feeble to kill the wolf on his own. Or maybe he died of old age
or a heart attack or something, and a wolf happened upon his old bones and made a midnight snack out of him. It's unpleasant and a bit on the bloody side, but it's life.

“We aren't like Amos Slade, though,” Violet continued, apparently unaware of the “Are you buying this?” looks Peter and I kept exchanging. And, in all honesty, I
wished I could believe Violet's words. It would make our lives much simpler and the solution to our wolf problem more promising. “We are young. This is
our
time! And we are
taking our lives back, starting tonight.”

“What's tonight?” I dared to ask, a bad feeling forming in the pit of my stomach.

But she just put her finger to her lips and went back to join her friends.

I asked Peter, “Want to get out of here?” With a grin, he nodded and followed me, and his new hound dog brought up the rear.

Peter and I sat at the edge of the
swimming hole, dipping our bare toes into the cool bluish-green water while the hound dog snoozed in the shade. I was glad
the hound was finally warming up to me a little, because whether Peter realized it or not, he had himself a dog now.

The music of the forest was a welcome change from the heated debates no doubt going on at town hall right about then. I closed my eyes to better hear the bees buzzing and the water lapping
lazily against the rocks on the shoreline. When I caught the distinctly beautiful and haunting song of a nightingale, I sighed to myself. It was so nice to have them back in our part of the woods.
I'd missed them all winter.

Suddenly, I recalled some of Knubbin's words:
Some say the truth rings as clear and sweet as a nightingale's song.
Maybe the wizard wasn't loony. Perhaps it was a
riddle he meant for me to figure out, one that would help me find Lake Nostos. After all, didn't he say something about me having a lot to do before the birds migrate for the winter as I was
leaving his—or whoever's it was—cabin yesterday? And in the age-old fairy tale about Lake Nostos, didn't the king tell his queen that he listened to the nightingales sing as
he washed his face and hands in the cool waters of the spring?

“I should probably be getting back,” Peter said—words that I was not happy to hear, even though I knew he was right. He grabbed our stockings and shoes from behind us, placing
them within easy reach. “I'd rather stay here with you, but the meeting for the hunters will be starting any moment now. My father will wonder where I am.”

“Are you afraid for tonight?” I asked once I'd tugged on my boots.

He scratched behind his ear. “Not afraid, really. Just a bit nervous. I really hope one of us kills whatever it was that killed Amos Slade. I'd love to slay the wolves and free our
village from their reign of terror, once and for all.”

My gut roiled at the thought of Peter facing the monster. If a wolf sunk its deadly teeth and claws into my love, I might as well throw myself into the thick of Wolfstime without my cloak.

“I don't suppose I can talk you out of being in the hunting party,” I said.

“Not a chance,” he replied, just as I knew he would.

I scrambled to my feet and walked over to the tree on which I'd hung my cloak, bow, and quiver. He met me under the bough, and I handed him the silver-tipped arrow he'd made me.
“Will you take this, this time? It would make me feel a lot better.” I gave him what I hoped looked like a reassuring smile.

As he took the arrow, his fingers dragged from my wrist to my fingertips. The sensation took me by surprise, and it gave me a crop of goose bumps.

“Only if you take this,” he said. He reached into his pocket and nonchalantly pulled out a gold cross necklace.

My jaw dropped in utter disbelief.

It was
my
gold cross necklace, the one that had been my mother's once upon a time. The one on which the wizard had put a spell, so that my mother could understand her Wolfstime
dreams and, in time, realize her true self. The one I'd given to Hershel Worthington to pay off Granny's debt so we wouldn't lose the cottage.

“Peter…” I breathed.

“Turn around, and I'll put it on for you.”

As I turned, my head kept spinning. “But…how?”

“Good ole Uncle Jenkins might be nothing more than a two-bit bandit, but he taught me a thing or two about pickpocketing.”

Something fluttered within my belly. “Looks like we're both thieves. I can't believe you stole for me,” I said, beaming at him.

“You'd better believe it. And hopefully, this time, you won't lose it or give it away. It's becoming a full-time job, just keeping it on you.”

While Peter fastened the necklace around my neck, I caressed the smooth, familiar gold and smiled—until a terrible thought crossed my mind. “Oh, Peter! Mr. Worthington is going to
give it to his wife. When he discovers it's missing, what if he comes after Granny again?”

“Ah, but I already thought of that. You see, I made you a cross pendant out of some scrap metal last night, before I went out with the hunting party. I knew how much the pendant meant to
you, Red, and I knew that nothing, especially a replica made of copper, would truly be able to replace it. Still, I thought you might like to have something at least to remember it by. I meant to
give it to you this morning, that's why I was headed to your house. But then, on my way, I heard you scream, and then there was Amos…”

“I know. So terrible,” I said, trying to shake the tragic scene from my memory.

“Then, at the town hall, when I saw the tax man waving your mother's gold cross in front of your nose, something in me snapped. I knew I had to steal it from the bastard. I hated
that he had something that's so special to you. I didn't know for sure if I could manage the whole switcheroo, but I figured I'd have the best shot while he was busy dodging
rotten vegetables.”

“Wait, you made me a cross pendant?” I asked, my heart melting as I turned back around and our eyes met.

“Sure did! A really good one, too. All it took was a bit of smithy magic. I'll be amazed if the tax man ever realizes it's not real gold. But if he does, we'll just have
to figure something else out. Don't worry, Red. I won't let the tax man take your house.”

“I can't believe you did all of that for me. You have a big heart, Peter.”

He chuckled. “Well, if I'm being completely honest with you—part of the reason I did it was purely selfish.”

“Oh?” I asked.

“I hoped my valiant—though arguably unlawful—act might earn me a kiss from the fairest maiden in the land.” With a hint of a smile, he placed his hands on both sides of
my head. Closing my eyes, I felt the warm sunlight on my face and the breeze in my hair. He placed a kiss on my forehead and another on my nose. Though they were light as feathers, the kisses he
trailed over my skin had an amazing way of stirring the very blood within my veins. When his lips moved to my cheek and then to the spot where my ear touched my neck, it felt oh, so
wonderful—and yet, it made me greedy for more.

I inclined my head, my lips positively tingling in anticipation. When nothing happened right away, I peeked. Somehow, the way he was unabashedly staring at me with his beautiful brown eyes made
me melt.

What if, when I tell him about the quest, he just laughs at me? What if he says he cannot come? Being apart from him would be unbearable.

“Here, sit down,” Peter said. He sat on the log and patted the space beside him.

“But you have to go to the meeting, Peter.”

“I know you want to tell me something. You look like you're about to explode. Why don't you just tell me, and then we'll head back to town.”

I wedged my hands between my knees, hoping to keep my legs from jittering so badly. “Remember when I told you I wanted to leave this village—that I wanted to go far, far
away?”

Nodding, he said, “Of course I do. We'll go together, you and me.” The dog gave a yelp, and Peter patted his head. “And we'll bring this bag of fleas, too, I
guess.”

I took a deep breath and blurted, “Granny has a very painful scar on her arm. I think I might have discovered something that can bring her relief.”