Veiled Rose by Anne Elisabeth Stengl

forest.”
    “There’s more Paths than you can count, Leo.”
    His knuckles whitened. “I can count a lot better than you can. You don’t even know what algebra is!” He sounded like a little boy, he realized with embarrassment, not the great lad of eleven that he was. Licking his lips and drawing in a deep breath, he forced himself to calm down. After all, he wasn’t alone anymore. And he wasn’t dreaming either. It had been many days since he’d seen Rose Red, and here they were, back out in the forest on one of their adventures, just like always. Everything else that had happened this evening was all silliness brought on by his overtired imagination. He licked his lips again. He couldn’t see her anymore and wasn’t certain if this was because of the twilight or if she was doing her vanishing trick again. His hand started to reach out for her, but he stopped himself. Past experience had taught him that this wasn’t a brilliant idea.
    “I’m sorry, Rosie,” he whispered. “I’m just . . . I’m sorry.”
    “It’s all right, Leo,” she said, and her form became visible again. “I’ll take you home now, shall I?”
    He nodded. Rose Red took hold of the end of his beanpole and started walking, and Leo, thus linked to her, followed. They said nothing as they went, but even in the midst of their silence, Leo couldn’t help but be glad to have found her again. To find her safe and whole, despite all the rumors of the monster.
    “What were you doin’ out here late like this?” Rose Red asked him after a while. She proceeded quickly considering how dark it had become. Leo could scarcely make out the ground beneath his feet, but Rose Red led him straight and true, and if he walked in her footsteps he rarely stumbled.
    “I was hunting for the monster,” he said.
    Rose Red stopped, and he almost walked into her, dropping his end of Bloodbiter’s Wrath as he did so. “Careful, Rosie!” He knelt to find his end of the pole and realized with a flash of irritation that she had disappeared again. “Rosie! Come on, I don’t need this.” He found the beanpole, but the girl, for all intents and purposes, was gone.
    Swearing under his breath, he hacked his way a couple of steps but lost his footing in the dark and rolled down an incline. Sticks and stones bit through his clothing, and he lost his floppy hat. When Leo stopped rolling, he heard running water nearby and guessed that he must be somewhere near the Lake of Endless Blackness. But that didn’t help in the dark. Bruises were cropping up all over his body faster than weeds in a rose garden. He crawled to a nearby tree and pressed his back against the trunk, tucking his knees up.
    Somewhere far away a wolf howled. Leo swore again.
    “You hadn’t ought to hunt the monster.”
    “Silent Lady!” He swung about and could just make out the contours of her veil near his face. “Why do you keep doing that to me?”
    “Please, Leo,” she said, and he felt her gloved hand gripping his shoulder. “Please, don’t hunt the monster no more.”
    He drew several long breaths. “Why won’t you take me back to the cave, Rosie?”
    She was so still that only the hand on his shoulder told him she remained beside him. At last she whispered, “Please don’t ask me to.”
    Leo ground his teeth. Using Bloodbiter for support, he pushed himself back onto his feet. Her hand slipped away from his shoulder, but he felt her standing near. “I want to see this monster, Rose Red. I know it exists. And I’m not afraid. I want to face it, like a real hero, and . . . and see what happens.”
    “You won’t like what you see,” said the girl, her voice atremble.
    But Leo, his heart in his throat, said, “Show me.”

8
    T HEY WALKED IN SILENCE through the wood, Rose Red clutching one end of Bloodbiter’s Wrath, Leo clinging to the other. He smelled rain and dampness and all the scents of night, and he shielded his face with his free hand as sticks and branches went for