Girl in the Red Hood (12 page)

"No."

"Pardon?"

"I said, no!" Liesel snapped. "I will be
fine on my own." It wasn't as if they had been any help thus far.
"I won't be staying here anyways." The already nervous mayor looked
as if this troubled him more deeply than her father's death.

"Where will you go?"

"I'm going to board the next grain wagon
that will take me. I'm going back to my grandparents."

"I wouldn't advise that," he began, but she
cut him off.

"I do not care what you would or would not
advise! You and the rest of this wretched town have been nothing
but a blight on me and my family! I'm leaving, and there is nothing
you can do!" Finally, realizing he wasn't convincing anyone, the
mayor stood and left, much more disconcerted than he had been when
he'd arrived.

As soon as he was gone, Liesel began to
ransack the cottage, looking high and low for their money. Surely
they had to have some coins stashed somewhere. It was only when she
reached his blood-stained mattress that Liesel realized Warin must
have kept the money on his person when he went to sleep. He always
kept the money with him when they traveled anywhere. And Liesel had
no idea where his body was or who had taken it. Angry, but
undeterred, she slammed the cottage door shut as she marched back
into the town. She approached the first grain wagon she saw.

"How much to hitch a ride back to Weit?" The
man loading his wagon looked at her incredulously before shaking
his head and chuckling.

"The city by the mountain? That will cost
you at least 200 francs, love." Liesel nearly lost her composure.
200 francs was more than her father made at the smith in a year.
Swallowing hard, she tried again.

"What about just to the edge of the
forest?"

"200 francs."

"But that's much closer!" Liesel protested.
The trader rolled his eyes and bent down to whisper in her ear.

"Look, it's nothing personal. This morning,
before dawn even, your mayor came around to warn all the travelers,
such as myself, that an addled girl would be asking for rides out
of town. He threatened our allowance out of town if he caught us
trying to take her."

"Addled?" Liesel growled. The man
shrugged.

"I didn't say I believed him. But to risk my
right to trade in this town, I would have to know I was guaranteed
something for my troubles." Speechless, Liesel whirled and stalked
over to another trader. And a third, and then a fourth. Somehow,
either the mayor or Izaak had managed to speak with every single
tradesman in the town. Unless she was able to come up with 200
francs, or more, as some of the others had asked, she was going
nowhere.

Without realizing where she was going,
Liesel ended up back at the cottage. Everything was still in
disarray, bundles and bags thrown haphazardly about from when
Liesel had searched them for coins that morning. She stood in the
doorway for a moment, uncertain of what to do. Part of her wanted
to find Kurt. The other part of her wanted to fall into her bed and
sleep and never have to wake up. As she vacillated, however, an ice
cold determination moved into her heart. A plan was already forming
in her mind.

Night had fallen by the time Liesel's plan
was complete. She would find work in Ward. If they were so
determined to keep her, they would have to give her some way to
survive. Garden or no garden, she needed a way to buy grain. She
wasn't going to live long on turnips, onions, parsnips, and the few
potatoes her little plot had produced that summer. She would save
and scrimp everything she could though, buying only what was
necessary. She would get the 200 francs if it killed her.

A wolf howled in the distance, and Liesel
fetched the crossbow once again. Laying it beside her bed, Liesel
glared at the door, mentally daring the animal to burst through. If
she couldn't leave now, it didn't matter. Somehow, she was going to
escape.

"I want Armen to win, but I think Bruno will
probably pull the ribbon," Mitsi tossed her red curls knowingly.
But Karla shook her head and scoffed at her sister.

"Dirk can beat Bruno any day. Besides, who
would want Bruno to win? He is pigheaded enough as it is. No one
needs to give him another reason to strut about like a rooster."
She looked down the table at Liesel where all three girls kneaded
dough. "Who do you want to win?" But it was a long moment before
Liesel realized the girl was actually speaking to her.

"Oh," Liesel flashed an apologetic smile.
"I'm sorry, but I don't really know." Mitsi went back to the
conversation as if Liesel had never spoken, but Karla continued
sending curious looks her way every few minutes. Liesel appreciated
the girl's attempt to draw her in to the discussion. After nearly a
year of working in the bakery, it was nice to have someone who
didn't treat her like she had the plague.

"Karla, come here," the baker's voice had an
edge to it. Liesel gave a small sigh, knowing what was about to
happen. Karla knew, too, but instead of looking abashed, she lifted
her chin a bit and walked stubbornly out the back door. Liesel
could hear their words through the window, and it was impossible
not to listen. Usually Mr. Huber wasn't so careless as to rebuke
Karla where Liesel could hear, but all the windows were open due to
the warm day, and he hadn't needed to lecture his youngest daughter
about Liesel for a while.

"Karla, are you trying to get someone
killed?"

"I'm just being friendly, Papa," Karla
sounded impatient. Mr. Huber sighed.

"You have a kind heart, Daughter, but if
you're not careful, you could be the one they mark if something
happens to Liesel! Or it could be your sister! How many times must
I tell you about the time Ilsa escaped? Then it was her closest
friend who was marked instead!" Liesel nearly risked a glance out
the window. How strange that a girl with her grandmother's name
should have been marked.

"It's so unfair," Karla pouted. "Liesel
works hard, never misses a Holy Day, and even stays late to help
clean up, and all we do is ignore her. She must be lonely."

"Aye, it is unfair," the baker's voice was
sad. Liesel had to remind herself to keep kneading the bread. She'd
never heard anyone from Ward speak about her with such sympathy
before. Since she'd requested work from the mayor and had been
assigned to Huber’s shop, the most kindness she'd received was
getting to take home dry, unsold pastries sometimes after the shop
closed. Not that overhearing this discussion would change anything.
Still, it helped a little to know that it was the mark they feared.
A little voice inside whispered that at least they didn't hate
her
.

When she'd first met the family, it was
strange to learn that the father and daughter were in any way
related. Huber was a tall, fat man with an unusually nasally voice,
and he was slightly inclined to be dramatic. Karla, on the other
hand, was skinny and practical, just two years Liesel's junior.
Liesel often felt a twinge of jealousy about the situation, that
she should have been great friends with the girl if it hadn't been
for the terrifying mark on her hand that everyone in town somehow
seemed to know about.

A few moments later, Karla and her father
walked back in, and Karla said nothing more to Liesel the rest of
that morning or the afternoon, but she did sneak her a smile as the
sisters left the kitchen at the end of the day. Liesel
procrastinated as much as she could, sweeping the floors and wiping
the windows until Huber told her she needed to go home. She stood
quietly as he counted out her week's pay, then turned silently to
go after pocketing the coins. Huber's conscience must have gotten
the better of him, however, because he called out to her once more
as she opened the door.

"Liesel?" She turned back to him, wide-eyed
with curiosity. He paused nervously for a moment before whispering,
"Good work." Shocked, Liesel could barely get herself to nod as the
baker ducked back into his pantry. Liesel wondered as she walked at
how peculiar it was that she wasn't the first girl to be marked.
And not only that, but that a marked girl from years before should
have had her grandmother's name. What was it that Ilsa had told
Warin the night of their departure?
People that go to that
town...they never leave!
How had she known that, especially
when so many were bound to secrecy by the strange magic? Liesel
sighed. It would have been the perfect question to ask Kurt if she
hadn't been trying to avoid him.

Warin's death had changed Liesel. It had
made her even more determined to leave Ward. She had asked the
mayor the very next day to help her find work. It sickened her to
have to ask him for anything, but she knew without him that no one
would even consider giving her a job. Also, it would convince him
of her intentions to stay. She hoped that in time, he would relax
his reign over the travelers’ wagons. Apparently, though, he was
still sniffing around, asking which ones Liesel had approached. Not
even the peddler, Gil, had been willing to speak with her. They
wouldn't even carry a letter to her grandparents.

As soon as Liesel had taken the new job, she
hadn't had nearly as much time to see Kurt. One day, however, she'd
gotten the feeling she was being watched as she walked home.
Turning down the road to her own cottage, she'd nearly passed out
from fright when she saw someone waiting in the shadow of the
trees. When she saw that it was Kurt, however, she had nearly
smacked him for scaring her so.

"Why haven't you been coming out?" He'd
demanded.

"I got a job," Liesel had apologized. "I'm
working now. I don't get out until it's nearly dark."

"Why do you need to do that?" He looked so
confused that Liesel nearly told him her plan to escape, but an
instinct warned her not to. She wasn't sure why, but something
warned her that he would react badly. It felt wrong to hide
something from her only friend. But she had to escape. So she used
the next best excuse.

"I need to eat," she'd said in a low voice.
Kurt had frowned.

"You have your garden. And I can still bring
you meat."

"And that's very kind of you...but I'd still
like to be able to buy grain sometimes. And clothes, shoes, feed
for my horse-"

"Alright," Kurt sounded annoyed, but had
conceded. "Will I get to see you anymore at all?" Liesel's heart
had sped up, and her cheeks felt warm. In spite of herself, she'd
smiled.

"If you wait for me at the edge of the
forest like this, you can walk me home. Would your father mind
that?"

"It doesn't matter," Kurt had scoffed. "I
can walk you home if I want." And so they'd continued. Liesel
hadn't dreaded going to the bakery so much after that, since she
had her time with Kurt to look forward to at the end of every day.
She would often save the pastries they gave her to share with Kurt
on the way home. It must have looked odd to any passerby who might
have seen them. Actually, the passerby would have only seen her,
walking on the edge of the road, talking to herself, handing baked
goods into the trees. The passerby wouldn't have seen the lanky boy
accept the morsels and devour them greedily as young men do. He
would have missed the boy looking hard at the girl's face, studying
her expressions, hanging on her every word. But Liesel saw, and
that was why it was so hard now to try and avoid the one person in
the world she wanted so much to see.

After a year of working, scrimping, and
saving, Liesel nearly had the 200 francs. She needed just one more
week's wages before she would have enough. As she walked home on
this particular night, however, she realized she felt more unhappy
than ever. She should have been rejoicing. After three years in the
miserable forest, she was finally close to returning to her
grandparents and her beloved mountain. And yet, a part of her
mourned. Soon she would have to face Kurt and tell him the truth.
And if she was honest with herself, she thought it just might break
her heart.

"It's a bit late, don't you think?" Liesel's
heart stopped then started again as she recognized the deepening
voice that came from the shadows. He'd caught on to her. Liesel
closed her eyes and sent a prayer up to the Maker to ask for words.
This was a conversation she wasn't ready for yet.

"Yes," she said slowly, turning towards the
voice in the trees. "It is." A hand reached out and drew her into
the forest. It was a bit unnerving to see only darkness, but Liesel
had long ago given up fearing the forest when she was with Kurt.
She was discomfited this night, however, by the tone of his
voice.

"Liesel, what are you up to?" He sounded
impatient and tired, which was unlike him. When she didn't answer,
he said, "This wouldn't have anything to do with running away,
would it?"

"Is it really running away when you are just
trying to run home?" Liesel spat out, dangerously close to tears.
She heard him let out a gusty breath. "I wanted to tell you, I
promise," she hastened to explain. "I just...didn't know how."

"Why?" His voice was barely above a whisper.
"Why do you need so badly to go?"

"I need a life, Kurt! I miss my
grandparents! I miss the sun! I miss talking to people, and walking
by them without them thinking I have some wretched curse!"

"But I've given you the sun...by the
waterfall!" His voice was worried now. "I...I can make sure they
treat you better!" Had he lost his mind? How could he make sure
that happened? Liesel shook her head, trying to find the right
words, when an idea hit her. Reaching out, she found his hands and
held them tightly.

"Come with me!" she urged. "My grandparents
are kind! They would give you work until we were ready to go on our
adventures! We could leave this place behind and never look back!
Please, Kurt!" Tears streamed down her face as she pleaded with
him. "I need you, too!"