Rosie Roo's Arc

Chapter 7 of 10

The spore lived again, but Rosie could not stop thinking about the fox. The old fairy wanted answers about the white creature with the gold horn. Rosie wanted them too. The fairy knew how to keep the spore alive forever, if only she understood the fox. So at first light Rosie packed her bag, kissed the pink cap goodbye, and walked back toward the marsh. She needed to find the fox before its trail went cold. The reeds stirred at the water's edge. From them stepped a small girl in a torn green gown, black hair heavy with lotus petals. Lian. Rosie had freed her spirit once, blooming her reed at the old gnome cottage. In return Lian had guided her home. Now the drowned girl watched her with dark, steady eyes. "You're chasing the white one," Lian said. Her voice sounded like wind over water. "I felt it pass. It left tracks the marsh remembers." Rosie's heart jumped. "Can you take me?" Lian tilted her head. "The debt between us is paid. But I owe the marsh nothing, and the marsh owes you a kindness." She turned and walked over the mud without sinking. Rosie followed, boots squelching. They went deep, past the wild strawberries, into cold air that glittered. Lian stopped before a wall of stone split by a narrow gap. Light spilled out, blue and sharp. "It sleeps here," she whispered. "Go quiet." Rosie slipped inside. The cave burned with crystal, pink and blue spikes rising from the floor. A still pond lay in the center like a mirror. Beside it lay the fox. Nine white tails fanned across the stone. Its gold horn glowed. It opened one amber eye and did not run. Rosie knelt slowly. "I won't hurt you," she said. "I only need to know what you are." She reached out one hand, palm flat. The fox rose. It stepped close and touched its horn to her palm. Warmth ran up her arm. In her mind a picture bloomed: the fox breathing on a wilting flower, and the flower standing tall. The fox lived on giving life. Its breath was warmth that never ran out. Rosie understood. The spore needed warmth and daily words. The snail's dew was gone forever. But this creature carried endless warmth in its breath. "Come home with me," she whispered. "Please. My spore is dying by inches. You could keep it alive." The fox studied her a long moment. Then it pressed its head against her chest and settled there, tails curling around her like a shawl. Rosie stood, holding the legendary fox. She had tracked it. She had learned its gift. But now she carried a creature the old fairy hungered to see. The fairy would trade great knowledge for it. And Rosie already knew she would never hand the fox over.