Rosalie Vezina's Arc

Chapter 2 of 2

Rosalie stood at the edge of the hollow. The bell-tree behind her hung dark and silent. Simeon's cottage waited below, its windows black, its chimney cold. No smoke. No light. She gripped her wand and started down the trail. Something had chased the life from that little house, and she meant to find out what. The cottage door hung open. Rosalie crept inside on bare feet. A chair lay tipped over. A cup rolled slow across the floor. Simeon's supper still sat on the table, cold. She touched the bowl. Fresh. He had left in a hurry, and not long ago. Then she smelled it. Wet moss and rot. A thick, sour breath from behind the cottage. Rosalie went to the back window and looked out. A troll stood among the ferns. Green moss covered its huge grey shoulders. Its mouth hung open, full of yellow teeth, and thick spit dripped from its jaw. In one fist it held Simeon by the back of his coat, like a doll. The old man kicked and shouted, but the troll only sniffed him and grinned. Rosalie's heart pounded. She was three years old and knew a hundred tricks. She needed one now. She slipped out the door and ran to an old stone shrine half-buried in the moss. It was carved like a sleeping giant, its stone face calm and closed. Rosalie had an idea. She raised her wand and tapped the shrine three times. "Wake up!" she squeaked, loud as she could. "There's a thief in your woods!" Her magic was small, but it was enough. The shrine's carved eyes flickered with a faint white light. Deep in the ground, a low rumble rolled out. Birds burst from the trees. The whole hollow shook. The troll froze. It stared at the shaking shrine, then back at Rosalie. Its little eyes went wide. It thought the stone giant was rising to punish it. With a frightened bellow, the troll dropped Simeon in the ferns and crashed away into the forest. Branches snapped. Its heavy steps faded into the dark. Rosalie ran to Simeon and helped him sit up. He was old and thin, his beard full of leaves. He blinked at the tiny girl with the wand. "You," he wheezed. "You tricked a mountain troll with a rumble." "I trick everything," Rosalie said. She grinned. "Now you owe me. Mama says you know the flying spell. The old words." Simeon coughed and laughed at once. He looked at the shrine, still glowing faint. Then he looked at the far trees where the troll had fled. "I'll teach you," he said. "But not here. That thing will smell its own fear and come back angry. We must reach my other place, deeper in the wood, before dark." Rosalie helped the old man to his feet. Simeon was safe. The spell was close now. But the troll was still out there, and the forest was growing dim.