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  I ran toward her. “Goldie!” I shouted. “Get away!” She turned to me and frowned, then turned back to the sprite.

  “I just want Mummy to love me,” she said. “Can you make Mummy love me?”

  “Yes, yes!” said the sprite, her words honey, molasses, and syrup. “All that you wish shall be yours. Come now!”

  Goldie stepped into the water. She stretched her hand toward the sprite.

  “Goldie, no! Don’t touch her!” I shouted, but it was too late. Their fingers had touched. The sprite clasped Goldie in her webbed hands, and before Goldie could even utter a scream, she was dragged beneath the water.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Swimming with Sprites

  The river rippled slightly and then flowed on like nothing had happened. The world was quiet, traitorously calm. Goldie had just been taken by a sprite! My mind raced for a rescue plan, but fear flooded all reason.

  “Come with me,” said another sprite, reaching for me. “Don’t be afraid. What do you wish for?”

  “I want my friend back, you monster!” I grabbed some rocks and threw them at the sprite, but she easily dodged them. I could still see Goldie struggling amidst a swirl of translucent fins, going deeper and deeper.

  Without a thought, I dove in after her. The icy water shocked me, and then I was surrounded by sprites. “Take my hand!” they sang. “Anything you wish…”

  I took a breath and plunged deeper.

  The sprites swirled around, reaching for me, but they couldn’t touch me unless I touched them first.

  “Come with us!” they chanted. “We will give you your heart’s desire.”

  Heart’s desire, heart’s desire, heart’s desire.

  Their words echoed like shouts in a cave, pummeling my ears, piercing my heart.

  Granny. I wanted Granny to live.

  No, focus, Red! I wanted Goldie. I grabbed a handful of her curls, and her captor reared and hissed, baring mossy teeth.

  “Let go, she’s mine!” The sprite thrashed and pulled Goldie deeper, taking me with her. I kicked and punched, and in all my flailing I touched the sprite’s hand. She grinned malevolently and clamped her cold, webbed fingers around my wrist.

  “Now you belong to us!” Their voices echoed in the water, seeping into me. They burrowed into the very depths of my soul.

  We hit the bottom of the riverbed. My red cloak billowed around me like red wings. I wished I could fly away. The cloak brushed against my captor. She screamed and released me. Where the cloak had touched her, black blood seeped from her pale skin, clouding the water.

  The sprite gnashed her green teeth. She still had Goldie. I pushed forward and thrashed my cloak at her other arm. She screamed again. The other sprites swirled around us, all hissing and shrieking, but they didn’t dare come close. I gripped Goldie’s curls in one hand and pushed off the bottom of the river toward the surface.

  It was so far away. My lungs burned and sparks of white appeared in the corners of my eyes. I’d never make it. Goldie’s weight was too much, and my cloak dragged behind me, further weighing me down. Of course. The very thing that had saved us would now bring about our demise.

  Something swam toward me. I thought it was another sprite, but it was too dark—all except for the teeth, long white fangs in jaws stretched wide to catch me.

  Wolf.

  I reached for him, and he grabbed me by the cloak, pulling Goldie and me to the surface.

  I gasped for air and held tight to Wolf until I felt earth beneath my feet. I dragged Goldie out of the water and collapsed next to her in the muddy grass. I took deep, ragged breaths, coughing up water, but Goldie didn’t move. Her eyes were closed, her lips were blue, and her curls were limp and lifeless, plastered to her pale face.

  “Goldie?” I shook her a little, but she still didn’t move. “Goldie!” I shook her harder. I smacked her face. Still nothing.

  Wolf nudged Goldie’s shoulder and whined. Drowning, he said.

  “But she’s out of the water!” I said.

  Wolf pushed his paw at her back. Drowning. Inside. Drowning. And Wolf showed me an image of water filling up a skin, dry on the outside, but wet on the inside.

  I understood. Yes. Goldie’s lungs were filled with water. I rolled her onto her side and walloped her on the back. Nothing happened.

  More, said Wolf.

  So I hit her again. Harder this time, then harder again, until Goldie coughed and vomited muddy river water. I brushed back her wet curls as she gasped for air. She started to cry.

  I let out the breath I’d been holding. “It’s okay, Goldie. You’re safe now.”

  Goldie cried and coughed and breathed. When she sat up, I noticed a cut on her arm. She must have scraped it against a rock. I pressed my cloak over it to stop the bleeding while Goldie continued to cry until she caught her breath a little.

  “I thought they’d fix things between Mummy and me,” she said. “They promised they could make her love me again.”

  “That’s what sprites do,” I said. “They lie to make you believe they can grant your heart’s desire, and then they drag you down and feed on your wishes.”

  “But they were so beautiful,” she said. “And their voices made me feel safe and warm.”

  “Yes,” I said. “I guess that means beautiful and good are not the same.” I removed my cloak from Goldie’s arm and inspected her cut. It wasn’t too deep. It would heal quickly.

  “Then how am I supposed to know who’s good?” Goldie asked. “How can I trust anyone?”

  How was I to answer such a question? It’s true, you can’t tell just by looking at someone. You can’t always tell by talking to them. And sometimes even the things they do don’t speak to their character, because you don’t know why they’re doing them.

  “You can’t really ever know,” I said. “I guess you have to take risks.”

  “You saved me from the sprites,” said Goldie. “You could have died saving me, even when I was so mean to you before.”

  “I was even meaner to you before that,” I said. “You just don’t remember.”

  “What did you do?” she said.

  “I made you go away,” I said. “I wouldn’t let you come with me, even though you just wanted to help.”

  “Well, that’s rude!” said Goldie. She sounded a little more like herself.

  “It was,” I said, “but that didn’t stop you from saving my life the very next day.” I lifted the sleeve off my arm and showed her the cut from the bear. “A bear nearly killed me when I tried to get some honey from a honey hive, but you saved me. You must have gotten fifty bee stings to save me.”

  “Is that why you saved me from the sprite, because I saved you first?”

  “I saved you for the same reason you saved me. Because we’re friends. Even though you don’t remember.”

  Goldie placed her scratched arm next to mine. Two wounds from two friends saving each other.

  “I should like to remember,” she said.

  “Me too,” I said.

  Goldie smiled shyly and then yelped as she noticed Wolf. He stood just a few feet away. I could feel his slight fear of Goldie. It made sense, I supposed. When people are afraid of you, it makes you afraid of them, and it’s the fear that makes you both dangerous. I suddenly heard Granny’s voice in my head.

  Don’t be afraid, Red.

  “Don’t be afraid,” I said. “Wolf saved us both. We might have drowned without his help.”

  “Oh,” said Goldie, letting out her breath. “Well, then I suppose I ought to thank him, too.” She cleared her throat. “Thank you…um…Mr. Wolf.”

  Wolf dipped his head in acknowledgment, and then he limped toward me, keeping one of his paws entirely off the ground.

  “You’re hurt!” I ran to Wolf and inspected him. I couldn’t see a wound, but when I touched his leg, he growled a little, then whimpered. I winced as I felt a wave of pain rush through me. “I don’t think it’s broken,” I said. “Maybe just sprained.” />
  He wouldn’t be much good for traveling today, and Goldie and I were soaking wet. Now that all the excitement had worn off, we started to shiver.

  I looked around for the fire we had built and the rabbit that was surely roasted by now, only to realize that they were on the other side of the river. I could see the smoke from the fire, rising above the trees. We’d have to gather breakfast all over again, though Wolf wouldn’t be going on any hunts.

  “Let’s build a fire,” I said. “We can hang our clothes from branches to dry.”

  I built another fire near the place Wolf was resting. We took off our sopping clothes, down to our underthings, and hung them on a tree.

  “I’m hungry,” said Goldie. “I wish we’d caught some fish while we were in the river.”

  “We still can,” I said.

  “What about the sprites?” Goldie said. “You can’t go in the water!”

  “I won’t. I have an idea.”

  Granny had a spell to make the fish jump right out of the water. I’d never tried it before. I always worried I would give myself fins or get swallowed by a fish, but I was feeling bold for the moment. I ran with wolves. I’d just escaped sprites! I could certainly catch a little fish.

  I walked to the bank, not too close, but just enough to see a few fish dart by.

  Fishing Spell

  Come, little fish

  Jump on my dish

  Swim to shore

  Jump and soar

  Come, let us meet

  And then I will eat

  A fish suddenly shot up out of the water. “I got one!” I started to shout, but I only got out “I got!” before the fish plunged right into my mouth, all too eager to become my breakfast. I yanked out the fish and spat and sputtered.

  Goldie keeled over laughing, until another fish shot out of the water and landed on her head, slapping and spraying her with wet fins. “Oh! Ew! Gross! Get it off me!”

  “Catch it, Goldie!” I shouted.

  The fish fell to the ground, and Goldie pounced on it like a kitten. “I got it! Ooh, gross, these things are slimy!” The fish flopped and slipped from her hands. Meanwhile, two more fish had soared from the river and rained down on the bank. At the end of it all, we had six fish. A feast! Provided by magic that didn’t cause anything to break or catch fire.

  We huddled by the fire and told stories as we gobbled up the fish. Goldie told a story about three pigs and a wolf that blew down all their houses, except for the one made of bricks. Wolf found this story quite amusing. He thought the wolf was the hero of the tale.

  Pigs are delicious, he said.

  “I know,” I said. “You’ve been eating Granny’s, just like the wolf in the story.”

  No, said Wolf.

  “It’s all right, I don’t blame you,” I said. “We eat them, too.”

  No pigs, said Wolf, and I realized he was trying to tell me that he had not eaten Granny’s pigs.

  “But they’re gone,” I said, “and you’re always near Granny’s house.”

  No pigs, Wolf insisted, and he tried to send me an image of something to help explain, but it was hazy and difficult to make out. It didn’t matter. They were only pigs. We would have turned them into bacon and ham eventually, so it seemed unfair to begrudge a wild beast his own bacon and ham. As long as the beasts didn’t come to eat us, there was no reason to worry.

  Wolf, exhausted from his rescue and injury, curled up and fell asleep. I went to see if our clothes were dry, and a movement across the river caught my eye. I shielded my eyes from the sun, and the blood drained from my face. Horst the huntsman was walking slowly through the trees, carefully tracking Wolf’s paw prints, with his bow at the ready. He tracked the prints right up to the edge of the bank and then gazed across the river.

  I ducked quickly out of sight. I tried not to panic. I didn’t think Horst had seen me. He was farther upstream, and anyway, he was on the other side of the river. He had no way of coming over here unless he wanted to swim, which he wouldn’t do if he knew anything about sprites.

  But none of that stopped Horst. He stood behind a tall tree near the bank and, with one great heave, pushed it over. The tree groaned and fell straight across the river with a crash, creating a bridge over the water.

  My jaw dropped. I never would have guessed Horst had the strength for such a thing. Clearly I had underestimated him. Was Wolf in more danger than I’d thought? He most certainly was at the moment.

  Horst stepped onto the fallen log and slowly, yet determinedly, started walking across the river.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Granny Wolf

  Wolf woke as I ran to him. He could sense my terror. His ears went straight up, and the hair at his neck bristled.

  “It’s Horst!” I whispered.

  “Horst? Who’s Horst?” said Goldie.

  “The huntsman,” I said. “He’s following Wolf’s tracks.”

  Wolf growled. Monster! He tried to get up to run away.

  “No!” I said, pushing him down. “He’s too close. He’ll see you for certain if you try to run, and you can’t outrun him with your injured leg.” I looked around frantically, searching for a hiding place. Horst was halfway across the river.

  I started to gather some leaves and branches to pile over Wolf, but then I caught sight of our clothes drying on the branches, and I got a crazy idea. I snatched some clothes from the tree and quickly went to work. I tied my apron around Wolf’s middle and threw Goldie’s brown shawl over his shoulders, but that wasn’t enough. His ears…

  “I need to borrow this.” I yanked Goldie’s frilly cap off her head and stretched it over Wolf’s ears. He growled in annoyance.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, “but it’s better than becoming Horst’s new wolfskin coat.”

  Wolf only growled more, cursing. I didn’t blame him, of course. Any wolf would naturally dislike a huntsman, and it was possible that Horst had something to do with Wolf’s diminished pack. Could he possibly be the monster Wolf spoke of? Wolf’s rage rushed through me, and I felt the instinct to attack Horst, but I pushed it down. I couldn’t blame Horst, either, could I? It was the way he lived.

  “Good day!” shouted Horst. I tried to sit in front of Wolf, blocking him from view as best I could.

  “Hello,” I said innocently. “Lovely afternoon, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” said Horst, “though I must say, I’m surprised to see you so far away from the village.”

  “We just wanted some fresh air,” I said, and noticed that Horst looked like he could use some air himself. He had a gray, dusty pallor, and the lines in his face were more pronounced than ever. It was difficult to believe he had just pushed over a tree as easily as I might’ve snapped a twig in two. Maybe it had been a dead tree, the roots already decayed. Horst took a few stiff steps toward us, his joints cracking with every move.

  “And you went for a swim, I see. A little late in the season for that, don’t you think, not to mention the perils lurking in the water. Sprites are very dangerous.”

  “Yes, we saw some sprites,” I said. “That’s why we got out of the water.”

  Wolf growled at Horst. I could sense he wanted nothing more than to leap forth and sink his fangs into him, but I held him back.

  Horst squinted. “Did I just hear a growl?”

  “Oh, that’s just Granny,” I said. “She’s still a little hoarse from her cold, is all.”

  Horst scratched at his beard. “The witch?” he said. “I came from your granny’s just a few hours ago. I was hoping she could help me with something.”

  My heart leapt. “Is she all right—” I stopped myself. “I mean, yes, Granny has been very ill, but she’s getting better, and we decided it would be good for her to get some fresh air.”

  “Air fresher out here?” Horst asked. “You’re a good five miles from home.”

  “Granny wanted to stretch her legs. She was feeling very cramped.”

  Horst stepped toward Wolf. I held my breath.
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br />   “Your granny is looking rather…furry.”

  “That’s the medicine I made for her,” I told him. “A furry face is one of the side effects.”

  Horst tugged at the pouch around his neck. “There’s a wolf roaming these parts. His paw prints are all around here, and they’re fresh.”

  My heart sped up. “Really? How frightful. We’ll have to be very careful, won’t we, Goldie?” I nudged Goldie.

  “What? Oh, yes, of course. You needn’t worry, Mr. Huntsman. Red is very friendly with wolves. She can even talk— Ouch!”

  I pinched Goldie hard.

  “What’s that you say?” said Horst.

  “Nothing. Goldie likes to babble, is all. She’s always saying silly things.”

  “I thought she said something about talking to wolves,” said Horst.

  I let out a shrill giggle. “Oh, dear, who would talk to a wolf? What would they talk about? Whatever they said would surely be their last words.”

  Now I was the one babbling. Horst looked at me like I was nuts. “There are some folks known for talking to animals,” he said. “Can even befriend them, tell them what to do.”

  “I hope you find the wolf soon, and we’ll be certain to let you know if we see him. Goldie’s scream can be heard for miles.”

  “It can,” said Goldie, and she started to demonstrate, but I put my hand over her mouth.

  “Don’t worry,” said Horst. “I’ve set many traps in the area. He can’t escape me forever.”

  Wolf growled. I dug my hands into his fur to shush him.

  “What was that?” said Horst. “Did your granny say something?”

  “She said we’ll keep our eyes and ears and noses open. Don’t worry about us!”

  Horst started to leave, then hesitated. “I’m not certain I feel comfortable leaving you ladies all alone here.”

  Wolf was growling and baring his teeth now. I was having difficulty keeping him down.

  “I think I see the wolf!” I shouted, and pointed behind Horst. He jumped around, whipping a knife out of his belt. As luck would have it, a dark tail was indeed sticking out from a shrub. Horst snatched it up.