The Tangled Forest

by Marion Grace Woolley

  I could hear my sister in the other room, moving logs from the pile into the grate. From her silence, I could tell she didn’t much care for the place. Though, perhaps it was less the place and more the owner she disliked. I didn’t care, I pushed my face deep into the pillow and hugged it as though it were Bern himself.

  Behind the house was a small stock of food dug into the ground with a door to keep out the mice. It took both of us to pull it open, but inside we found fresh apples, cured ham, salted venison, dried beans and jam. We opened one of the jam jars and took turns scooping out its jelly with our fingers, for we hadn’t tasted anything sweet since our journey began.

  By the time we’d cooked stew, eaten it and washed out the pot, it was dark and we were exhausted. Stifling yawns with the back of our hands, we flopped into bed and fell fast asleep.

  I woke very late in the morning. The room was already warm from the sun through the glass. I resisted opening my eyes for a long while, turning one way and then the other, revelling in the glorious comfort of the eiderdown. For one blissful moment, I thought I was back in my own bed in the valley, and that everything after had been a peculiar dream, already starting to fade.

  Then I did open my eyes, and realised this was not my bed, nor my house, nor my valley. I also realised that I was alone.

  “Not again,” I said, pulling myself up on my elbows.

  Ever since we were babes, my sister preferred the outdoors and I preferred to be in, but she couldn’t keep walking off like this. This wasn’t the meadows or the hills of our childhood. We didn’t know these woods and, with Bern gone, we were unprotected.

  “Rose?” I called, swinging my legs over the bed. “Rose?”

  She wasn’t in the main room. The fire was reduced to ash and the last of the jam had been sucked from the jar.

  “Rose?”

  I slumped in the armchair for a moment, weighing my desire to sleep against rising concern. These past weeks had walked the energy right out of me. I had to wake up now, or I’d wake up next week.

  “Rose,” I mumbled into my hands.

  The sound of metal against metal came from outside, perhaps cutlery against a tin plate. I released my breath slowly. Rose was outside washing up. I straightened, rubbing dust from my eyes.

  The sound came again. I imagined her sitting in the morning sun, cutting through fried eggs on a pillow of buttery toast. My stomach scolded me to my feet. I pulled open the door and inhaled lungfuls of morning. The air was sweet and tinged with sap. Birds were singing high in the pines and it was all I could do not to whistle back to them.

  Turning the corner of the house, I let out a piercing scream.

  The creature looked up and screamed just as loud.

  Racing back into the house, I grabbed the fire iron, almost tripping over myself in my hurry to get back outside. So fleet was I, that the goblin hadn’t even gotten to his feet. He turned around and fell over the log he had been sitting on, our food flying into the bushes. Without hesitation, I raised my poker and thwacked the back of his legs as hard as I could.

  “Ouch, ouch!” he cried. “Stop!”

  I wouldn’t stop. I used the pointy end to prick the little man’s behind until he found his footing and fled through the trees. I gave chase until I was out of breath. Tucking my hair behind my ears, I stooped to snatch up the fallen plate and stormed back inside.

  I made it as far as the chair before my courage left me. Flopping down, I dropped my poker and curled in on myself, shaking with fright.

  The creature had been hideous. Half the size of a normal man, its pointed beard like a devil-fork, its wicked eyes gleaming like a rodent. There it sat, scoffing our supplies as though we had no need of them.

  And through all of this – where was Rose?

  RED

  I woke early. In truth, I’m not sure I even slept. We hadn’t eaten a meal so rich since leaving home, and the gravy weighed heavy on my stomach. My sister spoke in her sleep, mostly bun, and ben and any mumbled variant of Bern.

  When the dawn chorus struck up, so did I. The main room had grown chill without the fire, so I took a shawl from the peg by the door and wandered into the crisp morning mist.

  I felt we’d missed an opportunity between us. Instead of settling down and playing house, we should have followed that bear to see where he went. I didn’t believe his story for a moment, about an old man who didn’t speak to women. I believed there were plenty of strange characters in the woods, but that one stank of excuse.

  A dove cooed close by, drawing my attention back to the present, and how cold my toes were. I wiggled them against the ground and considered going inside to find my shoes.

  The dove cooed again, closer.

  The mist were thinning beneath the rising sun, but it was still hard to see the trees.

  Coo, coo. Coo, coo.

  It didn’t sound like any bird I’d heard before.

  Coo, coo. Coo, coo.

  I leapt half a foot off the floor as Franz stepped out of the white.

  “Morning,” he said, with a wink. “Got anything to eat around here?”

  “Where did you come from?”

  “Fell out of the sky like an angel.”

  I frowned but bit back a smile.

  “You know, I’m seriously regretting cutting you free.”

  “Too late now. I haven’t enough beard to tie me back up.”

  I beckoned him to the side of the house where there was a large log, long enough that we could sit side by side. I fetched a plate from the hole and filled it with cheese, dried meat, a little bread and some lard. He placed the plate in his lap, cutting the feast into finger-sized portions we could pick at.

  “So,” I said, swallowing a piece of bread, “do you intend to follow me all the way to the castle?” His grin was the answer. “I’m not sure Bern will let you come.”

  “Who’s Bern?”

  “A smelly old bear we travel with. Surely you must have seen him?”

  “That man with the big bushy beard?”

  “What? No. The giant oaf on four paws.”

  “The—” Franz’s face fell. “You’re telling me,” he said the rest slowly as though confirming the name of a stranger, “that man is a bear?”

  “My sister’s bear is a bear, yes.” I frowned so hard my eyebrows almost touched my chin. What was he talking about?

  “The bear is a bear, is a man,” he mumbled.

  “Did your parents abandon you in the woods as a tot, ‘cause you weren’t all there?”

  He blinked and then resumed smiling, only this time it didn’t reach his eyes.

  I yawned and stretched and told him that I would be back in a moment. Making my way between the trees, I looked for a secluded place to squat. I had just finished relieving myself when the shouting started.

  Standing so fast I felt giddy, I began running towards the house. I tripped on a branch and landed full stretch in the rough, the palms of my hands bloodied. Climbing back to my feet, I hobbled on, only to find Franz gone and loud sobs coming from the hut.

  My sister was crying her eyes out. I sat on the arm of the chair and placed my own about her neck.

  “What happened?” I asked, fearing Franz had been a rascal after all.

  “Where were you!” she shouted, her pale cheeks flushed.

  “Taking a pee in the woods,” I replied.

  “Oh, it was horrible!”

  “What?” I took her shoulders and forced her to look at me. “What was horrible?”

  “A devil’s been at the pantry! A horrid little goblin with sharp teeth and a fat nose. It stole our food and showed no shame.”

  “A goblin?”

  “With— with a little pointy beard,” she said, tracing a triangle on her chin with her thumb and forefinger.

  “Did he have a green cap?”

  “Yes!”

  “And black stockings?”

  “Yes!”

  “And buckled shoes?”

  “Yes!”
r />   “That was Franz.”

  “Who’s Franz?”

  “Franz is my friend, and I’ll thank you not to call him a goblin.”

  “But he is a goblin!”

  “And Bern’s a beast!”

  “Why are you so horrid?”

  “Why are you?”

  We stood face-to-face, hers white as the moon and tearstained, mine burning like the sun.

  “I wish we’d never come on this stupid journey,” Snow said at last, dropping back into the chair.

  “I suppose you’ll say that’s my fault, too.”

  She shook her head and looked up at me. “No. I wanted to find our father as well, but I don’t think we ever will.”

  “Do you want to go back?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, looking thoughtful. “Do you?”

  “I don’t know either.”

  “We could do it. We could just tell Bern when he gets here. Say we’ve had enough of the woods. We’ve never argued like this before.”

  “We do know the way back.”

  “And yet we’re halfway there.”

  “Halfway to where, though?”

  “The Royal City.”

  “Do you want to see it?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Maybe me too.”

  We smiled at one another.

  “Well, if we already know the way back,” she said, “we might as well go forward.”

  “And I won’t mention another word about Bern if you don’t mention Franz.”

  “All right. But how did you meet him?”

  “That morning, when I wandered off, I found him stuck in a tree. I helped him out. The flowers in the glade were from him.”

  “Oh dear, do you think it’s more than gratitude?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, do you think he actually likes you?”

  “What’s wrong with that?” I felt the heat return to my cheeks.

  “Rose, he’s— he’s ugly.”

  “How could you! Bern’s a bloody animal!”

  “Stop saying that!”

  “You can say anything you like about the man who likes me, but I can’t point out the obvious about your paramour?”

  “All right, all right. I won’t say another word, and neither shall you. Oh, your hands!” She took my wrists and turned the torn skin to the light. “Here. Let me bathe those.”

  Grudgingly, I allowed her to fetch water and rags, wincing as she cleaned the grit from my wounds.

  WHITE

  Bern returned just after lunch. We were clearing away the plates, hardly a word spoken between my sister and me. There was a jaunty sprint to his step and he whistled as he sat on the log. I took him a plate of ham and an apple.

  “You seem cheerful,” I said.

  “Well, yes. I’m fully rested and ready for the road.”

  “How was your friend?” I asked.

  “What?”

  “Your friend. The old man?”

  “Oh yes, him. He’s fine.”

  “Did you tell him about us?”

  “No. It would have broken his heart.”

  He took a crunch of the apple and its juice bled down his chin.

  Once he had finished, we tidied everything away as though we’d never been there. With our bindles over our shoulders, we set off.

  “We’ll reach the head of the stream before nightfall. It’s a nice spot to camp.”

  As we walked, I felt his fingers fold into mine. At first, I was ashamed to show affection in front of my sister, then I wondered how many secrets she had kept from me and felt less ashamed. Why should I blush to show my love for Bern, when she hid hers amidst the trees? And a dwarf of all things! How could she sell herself short?

  The sense that I had never really known my sister was a cold wind through my heart. We’d shared everything growing up, our thoughts throughout the day, our dreams at night. How was it that she now inhabited a private world where I had never been?

  When we reached our resting ground, the sight of it cause me to forget my upset. A waterfall, as slim as a ribbon, unravelled over the edge of a glistening black rock. The rock was so polished by years of spray that we could see our own reflections in it. The forest floor was carpeted in tiny white flowers which held the scent of rainfall.

  “We’ll stop here for the night,” Bern said.

  “Fine,” Rose replied, throwing down her load. “I’m going to explore.”

  “Don’t wander far—”

  “Let her go,” I said, placing my hand on Bern’s arm.

  “Has something happened between the two of you?”

  “Nothing that won’t mend.”

  “Was it,” he paused, embarrassed to ask. “It wasn’t because of me, was it?”

  “Oh, no. Just sister stuff.” Glancing around, I remarked once again at how beautiful it was.

  “I practically lived here as a cub,” he said.

  “Whilst I was off frolicking with the goats,” I giggled.

  “Did you like the house?”

  “I loved it.”

  He opened his mouth as though to ask another question, then closed it again. “We should find firewood before night arrives. Do you think that’s where Rose has gone?”

  “I wouldn’t count on it,” I replied.

  “That’s all right. I’ll give you a hand.”

  We began foraging for fallen branches. I would pick up a stick, then look over at him. He would pick up a stick, and I’d feel his eyes rest on me. Eventually, we straightened and looked at each other, a shy smile on our lips.

  Back in the clearing, he lit the tinder and set fire to our cache. He spread his cloak and went to his satchel whilst I sprawled out by the flames. He returned with a drinking skin and held it to my lips. What I thought was water proved to be wine.

  “Where did you get this?” I asked, enjoying its warmth in my throat.

  “A gift from the old man.”

  It wasn’t the only gift. There were potatoes for roasting, fresh butter and milk, vegetables and pork for the stew, plums and even honeycomb. Staring upon the feast, I desperately wished Rose were there and felt terrible for the harsh words that had passed between us.

  “We’ll save her plenty,” Bern said, as though reading my thoughts.

  Once we were full of food and overflowing with laughter from the wine, Bern opened the pot of honey and dabbed a thumbful on my nose. I slapped him aside playfully, but he wrapped his whiskered lips about my sniffer and sucked until the stickiness was gone. Then he took another fingerful and smeared it across my lips.

  He kissed as though drinking me down. I was quite breathless after.

  “We really shouldn’t,” I whispered. “What if she comes back?”

  He pressed his sweetened lips against my neck and sighed.

  “The stars have been watching everything we do. What would your sister mind a glimpse?”

  “I know, I just don’t feel right. Not like this.”

  “Then never.”

  “Why so?” I struggled up, alarmed.

  “Well, when we reach the Royal City there’ll be so many men to catch your eye. A fair few maidens too, I’ll bet. Everyone there is beautiful and you’ll blend in as though born to it. Not me, with my gruff walk, and my hairy chin, and my long jaw, and my raggedy snout. They’ll have no place at their table for my manners.”

  “It’s not as though we’re staying. We’re just going to take a look. We’ll be back in the woods before you can sneeze.”

  “Ah, you say that now, but just you wait.”

  “I say that now, and I’ll say it forever. I’ve lived all my life without fine things. I’d rather have a fine man, warm friends and a comfortable home. I’d much rather your cabin in the woods than some fancy castle.”

  “Well, we’ll see.”

  At that, my sister returned from the woods, and I was glad we’d stopped our kisses, however much I ached for them.

  “Honey?” I asked, offering the hal
f-eaten pot.

  RED

  Leave them to it, I told myself. All they’d ever wanted was time alone. Now, my sister’s slipping sense of duty allowed her to accept it.

  I looked again at myself in the waterfall. The black rock made my hair disappear, but my face floated full enough. I could’ve been the moon frowning over the night’s sky.

  Taking half a loaf of bread I’d stolen from the pantry, and a slice of cheese, I wandered into the woods. I needed to find my friend and tell him how sorry I was for the way my sister had treated him. Thoughts flew through my head like hornets. More than anything, I needed to know what had truly happened that morning. My sister never raised her voice to anyone. What had he done to make her chase him from the house?

  I was sure it had to be a misunderstanding. He were cocky as a cowbell, that one. Even I’d wanted to slap his face the first time we met. Maybe I still would.

  I walked for a good long while, until shade outweighed the sun, yet still he didn’t appear. Growing weary, I changed direction and followed the sound of water. I must have wandered downstream, for the spring flowed free and fast over a bed of glassy pebbles. I reached down to pluck one up. It would make a pretty pendant. Perhaps someone in the Royal City could string it for me.

  That’s when I heard his cries.

  Franz wasn’t calling me. He weren’t even aware I was there. He was shouting in general for someone – anyone – to come help him. I lifted my skirts and ran along the bank, more cautious than I had through the woods, for my hands still hurt.

  “Franz!” I cried. “Franz, what happened to you?”

  “Oh no, not you again.”

  He was sitting in the middle of the stream, one buckled shoe in the air, the other firmly trapped beneath the surface.

  “Well, that’s a grand way to greet me.”

  “No, I mean—” he gave a soul-shuddering sigh and stared up at the trees. “Could you help me up?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, folding my arms.

  “Please?”

  I tucked the hem of my skirt into its waistband and kicked off my shoes. The stream was shallow and it wasn’t too hard to reach him, though the pebbles rocked and rolled beneath my feet, tickling slightly.