Chapter 6

Her family helped her pack. They brought out a dusty knapsack from the closet, so worn with age that it was a wonder they had it anymore. Her mother filled it with practical objects: a compass with a bronze lid, twine, a small pan to boil water, and a flint to create a fire. She packaged cloths and a small leather purse filled with needles and strong thread. Her father packed salted meat, fish, hard cheese, and as much bread as he could fill. Daniel even filled up a water pouch for her to the brim, his lip quivering as he did so. They gathered up her warmest cloak, and her father gifted her his best knife. She reached up her thin arms to wrap around his strong middle.

"Please don't go," he whispered, and he began to cry softly. His tears began to wet her shirt. 

"Papa, I'll be alright. Margaret has promised to take care of me. And, who knows, if I can learn to control this...this thing," and here she looked at her hands (she refused to call it a gift, but neither would she name it a curse) "then maybe I can help us somehow. I can use it to better the bakery. With magic, I'll be able to make sugar appear, and then people will be able to buy sweetcakes again!"

Her father gave a weak smile. How could he tell her that he always wanted her to stay the same, to always be with them? He knew that she must grow up; he just didn't realize that it would be so soon.

Margaret turned to her. "Is there anyone else you would like to say goodbye to before we leave?" They meant to set out at dawn. 

Elaine's thoughts turned to dark green eyes and fishing by the river. But she shook her head no. She was still too embarrassed by the incident to speak to Zachary. 

"Then let's get some sleep," said Margaret. "Tomorrow will be a long day."

*

Elaine woke up with her chest in a tight knot. 

I can't do this, she thought. 

She scrambled out of bed, started pacing the floor. Jasper yawned, all of his tiny teeth showing, repositioned himself and went back to sleep. It was the first time Elaine envied a cat. 

What was I thinking? This will be too hard. I can't do it. I'm not strong or brave enough.

The thought of all that lonely time in front of her, and it seemed to stretch for infinity. If she had any idea of how hard it really would be, she would have dived back under her covers and never set foot from her bed. 

It felt as though the pressure of the world was upon her shoulders, on her chest, pressing her down into the floor. 

Let someone else do it. Let someone else have this power, she begged to whatever might be listening to her. 

She grabbed her knapsack, not knowing why exactly she took it. She thought she might need it, perhaps to feel what it might be like to carry it through the long miles of the forest just until the river. She could not say exactly why. Elaine opened the door to her house and fled to the spot she knew best. 

*

Elaine crouched by the river, staring at the sparkling water flowing by. The early morning fog still hovered along the ground and drops of dew were delicately balanced on green grass shoots. The morning smelled fresh and new, like the time after a rainfall. She wished she could transform into a fish, slip into the river, and disappear from this choice. As she was thinking this, scales began to sprout on her hands, bright green and blue. 

"Aaaarrgh!!" 

I didn't mean it like that! She thought. Stop! Stop!

Slowly, the scales began to recede. 

Elaine let out a cry of frustration. She couldn't stay here in the village, not with the revelation of her magic. But neither could she take one more step forward. Indecision paralyzed her, tricked her into thinking that she did not have to make a choice, that she could stay suspended in this moment forever. 

And perhaps she would have stayed there, if not for a furry face that gently pushed its nose into her lap. 

"Hello, Elaine," said an orange creature with bright eyes and a soft, sibilant way of talking.

"Good morning, Renard," she replied. She tossed a rock into the river. It landed with a plop! The sweet susurrus of the river whispered secrets to her, but she was too stubborn to listen.

Renard swished his tail. "It's a lovely morning to be sure, but I came to warn you about the soldiers at your house. They're looking for you."

"What!" Elaine stood up. "How many?"

Renard causally licked a paw. "More than a dozen. And it would seem that they're heading this way." The fox cocked his head to one side, and his ear swiveled toward the sound of horses galloping. 

Elaine gasped. She turned around, and sure enough, there was dust being thrown into the air, from a dozen trotting horses on the road. 

"How do they know I'm here in the forest?" she demanded of the fox.

"I believe that they threatened to whip that kind boy who sews such lovely lace within an inch of his life if he did not tell them where you might be."

"Why are they after me?" moaned Elaine. 

"I do believe you caused the roof to fall on a knights head. Knights are not known to be forgiving," said Renard. 

"How do you know that?"

Renard carefully leveled his gaze at her. "I watch everything," he said. "I'm always watching, even when you don't realize it."

Elaine's heart was beating wildly. She couldn't believe that soldiers were after her; it wasn't her fault the beam had fallen on one of them!

"What am I going to do?" she whispered. 

"I believe the wise thing would be to run," said Renard. "But I'm just a fox."

Elaine looked at Renard. She knew he was right, and she hated it. She looked out into the forest, with its huge, towering trees and dense bushes and she shivered. 

"I'm a friend of Margaret's," said Renard. "She told me to help you. I'll guide you to the place deep in the forest where she was going to take you. She will meet you there."

Elaine heard the baying of dogs. She looked around, desperate for someone else to make this decision for her. 

But there was no one. 

"Unless of course, you'd like to get torn apart by the king's finest mutts," said the fox. He shook himself. "But I'm leaving." He took off.

Elaine heard twigs snapping and large beasts pushing through the underbrush. It was now or never. 

Go! Now!

Elaine fled. Renard kept pace with her, barking and nipping at her heels to make her run faster. She tore through branches and bushes, leaves stung her face, and she managed to leave the path completely. The pack felt so heavy on her back. Her shoulders ached with the strain, but she did not turn around. She knew that if she did, she would be greeted with huge, snapping jaws of the dogs, or the knight's swords at her throat. 

She ran faster. Elaine's legs burned with effort. She ran and ran, and it seemed as though she never would be able to outpace the dogs. 

"Renard!" she screamed. "What do we do?"

"We have to cross the river!" he shouted. "See that fallen log, stretched over across the bank over there? Climb onto it and cross. The dogs will lose your scent over the river."

I have to climb on that thing? 

It was a huge log, black with rot and overgrown with moss. Renard jumped onto it and easily trotted across. Once on the other side, he turned back to her and shouted, "Your turn."

Elaine hesitated. It seemed sturdy enough, but the current was swift below it. 

When she heard howling pierce the air, indecision left her. She stepped up, finding her balance. She took a couple of steps, slowly, trying hard to not fall into the water. 

"I would like to remind you that we are being chased," said Renard. 

"I'm trying!" screamed Elaine. She took a few more steps, the moss slick with water. The roar of the river filled her ears. She squeezed her eyes shut. 

"Come on!" urged Renard. "Just a few more feet."

Elaine took another step.

Then the log snapped in half. Elaine screamed as she plunged into the cold water. She could swim, but the current was strong here, and her cloak wrapped around her, dragging her down. Her head broke water.

"Renard!" she yelled. "Help!"

The current pulled her faster downstream. She tried grabbing at low-hanging branches, roots, anything, but there was nothing to hold onto. 

Suddenly, she dropped, as the rapids picked up, and she went underwater again, water filling her nose. When she emerged, she retched, spat it out, tried to pull breath into her lungs. Renard ran along the river, keeping up with her. 

The current became ever more violent. Elaine could not control the way the water tossed her about. She slammed into a boulder, and her head dipped below the surface again. Sharp rocks scraped her knees as she tumbled through the malevolent current. 

"Renard," she choked. It was becoming harder to struggle against the water. Her arms and legs felt encased in stone, and she didn't know how much longer she could hold out against the power of the river. 

Her head slammed into another rock, and everything went black.

*

When she awoke, Elaine immediately coughed up the remaining water that was in her lungs. She took huge draughts of air and looked around. She was lying on the river's edge, on a grassy bank, her pack and cloak drying in a patch of sunlight. She sat up slowly, her head pounding. She felt as though a nail were being driven into it, so sharp was the pain. 

"Renard," she said. Her voice croaked, strained from the exertion of screaming. "Are you there?" 

His orange face popped up from behind her pack. He trotted over, sat down, and scratched his ear.

"How are you feeling?" he asked. 

All Elaine could do was look at him and put her hands to her head.

"That good, eh?"

Elaine looked around. It was a miracle she was out of the water. "Renard, what happened? How did I get out?" she asked. She closed her eyes. The afternoon light was so bright. The shadows on the ground told her that several hours had passed. The ravens cawing in the woods and insects were humming sounded so loud that they made her head throb even more. 

"A more important question: what are we going to do about food and shelter?" he asked. "We'll rest here for the night, then keep moving in the morning."

Elaine looked around. Tiny, yellow flowers dotted the ground, and large, leafy bushes stood like sentinels a few paces from the river bank. The leaves would make the beginning of a roof if she could find branches large enough to stack together. 

She heard a twig snap. Elaine whipped her head around, suddenly remembering the soldiers. 

"Are they still after us?" she asked. 

Renard lifted his nose to the wind and sniffed. After a few moments, he said, "We have lost them. We are sufficiently deep in the woods that they will not find us...for now." The fox looked at Elaine, her face pale and drawn. "Do not fear the soldiers. We're safe for now."

"Safe? Safe?" said Elaine, her voice rising. "How can you say we're safe? We're in the middle of the Deep Forest, where who knows what all lives here—"

"Fairies and trolls and goblins, to be sure," interrupted Renard.

"—with who knows what creatures ready to gobble us whole—"

"Most certainly wolves and bears and wild boar."

"—and you say we're safe?" Elaine was practically shouting.

Renard trotted over to where she sat. He lifted his paw and gave her a quick bop on the nose. "Yes, all of those things are live here," he said. "Yes, dangers abound, and any number of awful things could befall us at any moment. But those things are not here now. We will deal with them when and if they come. However, in this present moment, we need to make a shelter and find food."

The practical part of Elaine's mind started ticking. Although it sent chills down her spine to think she would have to go tromping about in the woods, once her mind set to making plans, there was no stopping her.

"I can build a fire with the flint my family gave me," she said. "If you go hunting and bring back whatever you can find. You're a fox, after all." Tears pricked behind her eyes at the mention of her family. She had only spent a couple of hours away from them, and already she missed them terribly. Even rotten, little Daniel.

"Yes, I am, but sometimes not a very good one," Renard said softly. "I will do that."

He raced off into the forest. 

*

That night, after a meal of rabbit roasted over a fire Elaine had made with her family's flint, Elaine talked to Renard about her feelings surrounding magic. He was a patient listener, always looked at her as if she were the most important thing at that moment, and carefully stayed silent until she had finished. A fox might have been a strange traveling companion, but she was glad that he was with her. 

They both were sitting around a strong fire, the glow occasionally sending a shower of sparks into the air. The burning logs smelled pleasantly of cedar, and the taste of rabbit hung on Elaine's tongue. She had managed to find a bunch of herbs in the woods for a simple tea. They were talking of her magic.

"I just don't know how to control it," she said. "I'm afraid I'll hurt someone."

"The only person you'll hurt is yourself, if you keep it inside you," responded Renard. His furry fox belly was full of the day's catch. "Besides, with magic, you have to start small. When did you first start noticing you had it?"

Elaine thought back to the first incident. She had been so angry with Daniel; the next, she had felt a powerful pull toward Zachary; with the soldiers, the feeling of fear was almost overpowering. 

"I suppose whenever I had a very strong emotion," she said. "Or whenever I wanted something to happen really badly, it just did."

"There's your first lesson," said Renard. He walked over to her side and curled up beside her. She reached down and scratched him between his ears. His fur felt silky and smooth to the touch, and its orange matched the glow of the fire. "Magic begins with a desire. Try it now. Try to lift something small, like that leaf."

"But I don't know how."

Renard nipped gently at her heels. "Yes, you do. Now try."

"Fine."

Elaine stared at the leaf. She stared and she stared, repeating over in her mind, "Move, move, move."

But she felt no pulse, no tingling, no warmth that signaled the trigger of the magic that moved inside her. She stared harder, willing herself to move the leaf, but it felt like moving something with just her eyes: impossible. 

"I can't do it," she said miserably. Despair made tears prick behind her eyes. 

"Stop giving up so easily," reprimanded Renard. "Try again."

She repeated over and over: Move MoveMoveMove, yet the leaf did not budge. 

Renard sighed. "We can try again tomorrow. For now, let us sleep. We have much traveling to do before we reach Margaret."

That night was the longest night of Elaine's life. She had to force herself onto the ground, laying her cloak down as a defense against whatever might be crawling on the ground. Every twig breaking was a griffin come to eat her; every hooting owl was a demon come to take her away; every shift in the forest was some fresh evil in her mind, ready to drag her away to be ripped to shreds or worse. She kept tossing and turning through the night, certain that if she closed her eyes, it would be the last time she would ever see the light of the world again. 

At one point, hours before the sun came up, when the moon was starting to dip down, and the stars still shone bright and cold, Renard leaped up and said, "We have a very long day tomorrow and much ground to cover. I'll help protect you from whatever comes our way, as long as you stay close to me. Now go to sleep." Then he turned back around, curled up, and began his soft snoring once again. 

After that, Elaine drifted into an uneasy, light sleep. Her dreams were filled with frightening creatures, each one worse than the last, but in the morning, she was pleasantly surprised to find that she was still alive. After a quick breakfast of cold rabbit, she threw some water on the fire, packed her knapsack, and set off deeper into the forest, with Renard leading the way.