Breadcrumbs - Anne Ursu [67]
Hazel was just about to unwrap the bar when she noticed a flash of light up ahead. It burned for a few moments, and then died out. Then again—another flash, a slowly dimming glow, and then darkness. Then, from close by, a voice said: “Oh!”
Hazel had had enough of people. With every one she met, the woods became worse. She tucked the bar back in her backpack and started to sneak in the opposite direction.
She did not walk for long, for an enormous white wolf appeared a few paces in front of her. It sat on its haunches and stared at her, in the way the wolves did, its perfect coat glimmering in the moonlight. And though her heart sped up and her stomach clenched, Hazel found herself staring back at the wolf. She was done running from them. Hazel and the wolf eyed each other as the wind danced around them. And then the wolf got up and walked several paces to the right, and then turned its head toward her and fixed its gaze on her again.
“What?” Hazel said.
It went back to the place it had started from, and then did the same thing again.
“You want me to follow you?” Hazel said.
The wolf gazed at her, walked a few paces back, and then forward again. It looked at her. And she stepped forward.
In woods where the woodsmen told lies, maybe it was the wolves who told the truth.
The wolf turned and walked back the way Hazel had come. Hazel followed behind, trying to move as stealthily as the creature. Up ahead there was another flash of light, just as before. The wolf moved a few steps toward it, then stopped. It looked at Hazel, and then looked ahead.
“You want me to go there?”
The wolf gazed at her another moment, then disappeared into the night.
Hazel crept on ahead. She had decided to throw her lot in with the wolves, and there was no going back now. She followed the dimming light into a clearing and back onto the path.
There was a girl a few years older than Hazel sitting on a tree stump next to the big path. She did not belong out here on this cold night. All she wore was a patched-up thin brown dress, a little shawl wrapped around her shoulders, and slippers. She was visibly shivering.
The girl did not notice her. She had in her hands a lit match and was staring into the flame as if it held wonders.
She must be bewitched, Hazel thought. Someone had caused her to be so confused she’d wandered half-naked into the middle of the woods. She was hypnotized by the light and didn’t know the danger she was in. Someone had done this to her, and Hazel was not going to leave this one behind. The wolves would not let her.
She approached the girl carefully. “Are you all right?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
The girl looked up at Hazel with dull eyes. She had dead-looking blond hair and a too-thin shadowy face. Her skin had been blanched by the night’s cold, and her cheeks looked blue-black. Her body trembled against the air as if the sky scared her. She looked like a blotchy, fading ghost.
“Hey,” Hazel said, keeping her voice soft. “Are you okay? Did someone do something to you?”
The girl blinked at Hazel. “I’m fine,” she said. “Where am I?”
“You’re . . . you’re in the woods. How did you get out here?”
“Oh,” said the girl, her voice thin and vague. “I live back near the village.”
She nodded to a place somewhere beyond them.
“Come on, we have to get you home.”
“I can’t,” said the girl, her eyes on the fading match. “I can’t go home until I’ve sold all the matches.” She nodded to a bunch of long matches in her dress pocket. “I was selling all night, but— Oh!”
The match in her hand had gone out. She dropped it, and in one motion grabbed another one from her dress and struck it against a small tinderbox. A flame burst from it into the night, and the girl stared into it and exhaled.
Hazel grabbed her arm. It was shaking. “It’s freezing. I’m sure they didn’t mean—”
“Oh, he meant it,” the