Rosalind's Arc

Chapter 3 of 4

Rosalind pushed the garden gate open at dawn. The hinges screamed. She stepped through with the map in one hand and the iron pins pinned inside her sleeve. The frost stopped at the threshold. Past it, the ground was black dirt and wet leaves. She did not look back at the castle. She walked. The path Belle had drawn began at a split birch. Rosalind found it. She turned east. The trees closed over her head. She had never walked this far in her life. Her shoes were thin. Her legs ached inside an hour. She kept the map folded small so her hand would not shake it. By midday she reached the river. The willow leaned wrong, exactly as Belle had drawn. Its branches trailed the water and did not move with the wind. Rosalind gave it a wide berth. She sat on a rock upstream and drank from her cupped hands. She counted what she had. A map. Seven iron pins. No food. No coat. No plan past the clocktower crossing. A branch cracked behind her. Rosalind turned with a pin already in her fist. A short girl stood between two trees. A red hood covered her hair. She carried a basket. The basket held bread, apples, and a wrapped cut of raw meat with the bone showing. The girl was not levitating. The flowers by her boots had not gone quiet. "Put the pin down," the girl said. "Iron doesn't work on me. I'm not fae." "Then what are you." "Huntress. My name is Red. I hunt in these woods. I know your face from a fairy print." Red tilted her head. Her teeth showed. They were silver. "You're the princess who wouldn't marry. You're a long way from your gate." Rosalind kept the pin up. "Are you going to rob me." "No. You have nothing." Red set the basket down. "I'll tell you what's on your road. A pack tracked you from the birch. Four wolves. They'll reach you before the clocktower. Your map doesn't mark them because your friend read old books." Rosalind's throat closed. "Why tell me." "Because I owe a debt to someone who might want you alive later. I'm paying it forward." Red pulled a strip of dried meat from the basket and held it out. "Eat. You'll faint before dusk otherwise." Rosalind took it. Her fingers were shaking. She had left the garden. She was outside the walls. She was not safe. She had never been less safe. And a stranger with silver teeth was feeding her. "The clocktower crossing is still good at moonrise," Red said. "Walk faster. Don't sing. Don't answer anything that calls your name." She picked up her basket and stepped back into the trees. Her shadow did not follow her. It stayed on the path a moment longer, watching Rosalind, then slid after its owner. Rosalind chewed the meat. She started walking. Wolves were coming.