The loud clap of thunder finally stirred her back to reality.
Louise noticed the first huge raindrops disturbing the shiny surface of the large lake spreading in front of them, as a sudden gust of wind, followed quickly by another thunder, made her shiver.
"Hans, we should go home," she told her companion, who was still absorbed in reading his book.
Hans, the tall, lanky youth lying on the striped gingham blanket next to her looked up from his volume, only to have his glasses sprinkled with the raindrops of the oncoming storm carried to his face horizontally, rather than vertically, by the increasing wind. Realising at last that the sunshine they had been basking in only a while ago, so precious and rare in their town even in the middle of the summer, was completely gone, he stood up and closed his book.
"Come on, we must hurry," he said, stuffing his flat cap in one of the pockets of his jacket before the wind would carry it away.
As Louise stood up and smoothed out the creases of her faded, threadbare dress, he picked up their blanket and folded it quickly. More raindrops pierced their way through the thick layer of churning clouds that gathered above their heads as they took off running, hand in hand, towards the gate of the town's park.
Too soon Louise was gasping for air, her unhealthy lungs struggling for the oxygen. But she needed to keep up with her friend... Hans noticed, and instead of following the gravel path towards the wrought iron gate, he pulled her under the tightly woven branches of one of the tall, age-old trees of the park, finding a temporary shelter there. He clutched his book to his chest to protect it from the raindrops flying around them in all directions as he watched Louise leaning against the tree trunk, breathing heavily, exhausted by the short run.
"We... can't... run all the way home. We'll... get drenched. Your book... will be destroyed," Louise said with difficulty as she pressed her free hand over her suffering lungs.
She was right. They couldn't run home in the stormy downpour, which now reigned all around them, but not because of his book. Even though that old volume was his most treasured possession, the only physical memory of his father, Hans cared about Louise even more. Her health was too fragile.
Hans pressed her hand tighter in his. "We would get drenched, and they would scold us," he agreed, not telling her what he was really worried about.
The girl nodded thankfully, then looked up as some drops of rain found their way down through the canopy of leaves and branches spreading above them like an enormous, green parasol, knowing, but not saying out loud, that this was all her fault, that if Hans were alone now, he would have made it home easily.
Watching her intently, Hans shook out the blanket he held clutched under his arm, and Louise let him wrap it over her shoulders. As she looked at him with her large, sky blue eyes that seemed even bigger in her pale face hollowed by the lingering illness, his heart ached.
Even though he was still quite young, a child for all those older than him, Hans knew what he wanted to do in his life. He wished to write story books, earn enough money, then marry Louise; he was sure enough that she wanted it too. Unfortunately, Louise was ill now, and their parents' recent marriage meant that... that they have become siblings of sorts.
Gently, he pushed a stray strand of Louise's straight, blonde hair, darkened by the rain, back under her cerulean bonnet, earning himself one of her ever rarer smiles.
"The park keeper's shed. We'll hide there, then go home when it stops raining. Wait here," Hans said as he took off running again, towards a small copse of younger trees growing on the edge of the lake, hiding an old wooden shed. As soon as he reached it, he forced its door open without difficulty, the weather-worn wood, and the rusty latch presenting no resistance.
He turned around and waved at Louise, then watched as she ran towards him, her bare feet slipping on the muddied lawn. Hans caught her before she could fall, holding her close, very close for a heartbeat, then letting go of her even as their eyes met briefly.
"Let's go in," he proposed, turning away from her to hide the faint blush spreading over his cheeks, and she obeyed silently, following him inside.
While Hans closed the door again, Louise made her way deeper inside. Carefully, she let the faint light creeping in through the only, dirty window guide her across the maze of gardening tools covered in dust and cobwebs, piled on the floor or propped against the wooden walls of the small shed.
Once she reached the tiny window, Louise took the blanket off her shoulders, spread it on the earthen floor, and sat down.
As Hans reached her, he took his jacket off to offer it to her, noticing how its slightly short sleeves were the only thing that matched his mud splattered pants, finishing above his ankles. Even his shoes were a size too small. He took them off, sighing, freeing his suffering toes.
After his father had passed away, his mother did not have enough money for new clothes or other, more necessary things. That was one of the reasons why she remarried. Louise's father, their widowed family friend, wasn't much richer than them, but, somehow, the two adults thought that together, they would cope better.
Lost in thoughts, Hans wrapped his jacket over Louise's shoulders, and she pushed her arms through its sleeves immediately, shivering as his heat, still trapped within the fabric, caressed her damp, cool skin.
"How are you feeling, Louise?" he asked, but she only shook her head, unwilling to spoil the unusual, beautiful moment by thinking about her aching lungs.
"Can you feel it, Hans?" she whispered instead, making him notice the strange, unexpected magic of that place.
The smell of ozone of the summer storm weaved through the scent of the damp earth and wood. The whistling of the incessant wind and the loud patter of raindrops hitting the roof blended with a muffled dripping sound somewhere in the dark corners, where the water managed to find its way inside. The raging nature created a wonderful, unforgettable atmosphere.
Hans moved closer to his friend and leaned his back against the wall under the window. As he caressed the copy of Arabian Nights now lying on his lap, Louise rested her head on his shoulder and whispered, smiling, "Read, Scheherazade."
"Will you stop calling me that?" he protested but opened the book nonetheless, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
The weak light coming in from above their heads was fairly sufficient for Hans to make out the densely printed words of the book. He took off his rain sprinkled glasses and wiped the lenses on the once white linen of his shirt, hoping to see better.
Louise, still breathing heavily after the run, took off her damp bonnet, unbraided her long hair, and ran her fingers through it, leaving it loose to dry. As the next thunder shook the shed's walls she coughed, then coughed again, and even though Hans pretended not to hear it, the sound caused him a near physical pain, as if it was he who was ill.
Louise settled more comfortably at his side and leaned her head on his shoulder again as he finally started to read.
"Hans..." she interrupted him after only a few lines. "I... " she murmured as the air around them was filled with another loud clap.
"What is it?" Hans asked, leaning slightly away from her so he could look in her eyes, his movement forcing her to sit up straight.
"The doctor... I heard him talking to Father... "
"The doctor is wrong, Louise. You look much better... " he lied, remembering the conversation he had overheard too, wishing that their parents had enough money to pay someone better. A proper doctor.
She nodded, looking away from him, unconvinced but unwilling to argue about it, wishing his words were true.
"Hans, I... I want you to..."
Her sentence was interrupted by a strange susurrus coming from one of the dark corners of the shed. Apparently, they were not alone.
"What was that?" Louise whispered, voice shaking as she grasped Hans' arm.
"I don't know," he replied nonchalantly, pretending to be less scared than she was.
"Come, let's see!" Louise struggled to her feet, listening intently for more whispered words.
As they heard them again, an incoherent stream of hushed lines, she set off towards the remotest of the dark corners.
"No, Louise, wait!" Hans called after her, removing the book from his lap and then following his friend as she would not stop. "Wait, it might be dangerous."
"But I want to see, someone, something might need our help!"
Hans grabbed her by her hand and pushed the curious girl behind his back, sheltering her from possible peril, before he led the way towards the source of the noise.
A spider web caught on the frame of his glasses, and he ripped it into pieces in his useless attempt to remove it, the sticky, silken strands clinging to his hair.
Louise giggled, trying to help him free himself from the sticky mess as they heard a soft sound, like that of a dry leaf falling through the air then settling on the ground, followed by an indignant, "Well, thank you very much, but could you be more gentle next time? My poor... behind."
The two friends froze instantly, forgetting the spider web and looking around the shed, searching for the owner of that weak but shrill, child-like voice.
"Here, down here!" it spoke again, calling impatiently.
Finally, Louise noticed. She sank to her knees and spread her hand in front of her. Soon, a small creature was standing on her palm.
"Is that a dragonfly?" Hans asked as his friend stood up, bringing the creature closer to his face.
"Hmm... you, boy, let me see your glasses, will you?" the thing, a tiny girl wearing a long ruby red dress, demanded, her translucent wings shining like silver in the semi-darkness.
He took his glasses off, stunned into obedience by her manners, and offered them to her.
"Fine, they seem to be alright. Then you must be blind!" she called once she looked through one of his lenses, her small hands resting on her hips, her bare foot tapping against Louise's palm. "I'm a Rose Fairy, the princess of all Flower Fairies! Rosalind is my name."
"A fairy?" Louise breathed while Hans, offended by the impertinent behaviour of what to him was just a dressed-up, talking dragonfly, bent down, attracted by something glittery lying in the darkness pooling around his feet.
He reached for the mysterious object even as Rosalind, leaning over the edge of his friend's palm, called, "No! Don't you touch that, it's dangerous!"
He sighed and straightened up again, feeling annoyed by the overbearing, pompous, little fairy-girl.
"What is it?" he asked, looking at her challengingly.
"It's a piece of a broken mirror. If you look inside, it will show you only the most awful things. See, the goblins broke it, and we are looking for its fragments everywhere... That's what I was doing when the storm broke out and the wind swept me into the lake. And when I got out at last, half dead, I found myself here, in this horrible place. My wings were wet, but I tried to fly up anyway to see where exactly I was. When you opened that door, the wind blew me inside here and threw me into this enormous spider web."
The fairy looked so unhappy as she told them her story, that Hans started to pity her. He could see sadness and fear hiding behind her anger and unfriendliness.
"My name is Hans, and she's Louise. Nice to meet you, Rosalind. So... where are you from?" he asked, offering her their friendship, and help.