Monsieur Strineau stepped past his work table, picking up a pair of iron tongs. “I admit she has posed a considerable problem. One that must be dealt with swiftly and permanently. Which is what we are doing. Soon she will be ours, and we can take back control of La Rue Sauvage.”
“Who would want to go to La Rue Sauvage now?” the tall man asked. “Even if we take care of this girl, who’s to say there aren’t others like her there?”
“Relax, Gambeaux,” Monsieur Strineau said, grabbing a handful of walnuts from a bowl and setting them on the table. “There is no one like her. No one at all. Once we finish her, we will finish any thoughts of resistance from anyone else, believe me. That is why all of our efforts are focused on her, Ferriot. We will follow through with our orders, and she will cease to be a problem. To anyone.” He seized a walnut with the tongs and cracked its shell open, its suddenness making me twitch.
“What about the others?” the tall man asked.
“What others, Gambeaux?”
“Her friends, Rene,” Gambeaux replied with annoyance.
“The priest that came with her. That boy. All the others helping her. Not to mention the groom and his wife that she’s staying with.”
My blood ran cold.
Monsieur Strineau chuckled. “Patience, Gambeaux. They will all be taken care of, once we have finished with her. As for the groom, they will no longer be able to help her, after tonight.”
“What do you mean?” Ferriot demanded.
Strineau cracked open another walnut and chewed it. “Hugo met with him this afternoon. He tried to deny it, but Hugo could tell the girl is still staying with him. So they will both be removed, allowing us to focus even more attention on the fearsome ‘Red Rider’. Now stop worrying about whether the plan is sound and focus on implementing it. We all need to be ready and focused. She’s expected tonight.”
The other men grumbled their consent as Monsieur Strineau cracked more walnuts and ate them.
I turned from the window and crouched on the barrel like a pensive bird. The Lycanthru knew the Serrones were helping me. Which meant I had put them both in jeopardy. My breathing came slowly as I considered other Lycanthru wolves invading the Serrones’ home and tearing them to pieces.
I hopped down from the barrel, landing as softly on the ground as I could. I crept away to gather Crimson, barely able to keep myself from breaking into a run.
22.
I drove Crimson hard as I raced back to the Serrones’ home. Rene Strineau boasted that they would no longer be a problem, that DaVorre had seen through Monsieur Serrone’s pretense and they knew I was now staying with them. So the Lycanthru had targeted them.
I pushed harder, forcing Crimson to gallop through the streets, despite Monsieur Serrone’s instructions to keep to the alleyways and shadows. What difference would it make if I was discovered now, when the Lycanthru already knew the Serrones had been my hosts? What would it matter if they attacked me, if I lost both the Serrones?
I rounded a corner and found their home.
The front door was torn off its hinges.
I yanked on the reins and Crimson skidded to a halt. I rolled my crossbow off my shoulder, then climbed down
from the saddle and led Crimson to the side of the house to wait in the darkness. I moved to the front door and peered inside. Then carefully stepped across the threshold.
I squinted in the darkness, letting my eyes adjust. I could discern an overturned table on the floor, next to some plates and a cup of spilled wine. A mirror had fallen from the wall and shattered beside a wooden chair that had been smashed to bits.
Just like my parents’ house after the Lycanthru attacked. “Hurry! She’s in there!” someone growled from outside. I scurried behind a wall and pressed my back to it,
listening. Two pair of heavy footsteps barged through the front door. “I saw her, I tell you. Leading her horse to the side of the house. She’s in here.”
I listened closely to the familiar voice. It was Hugo DaVorre.
“If you say so,” said the other, sounding a couple of heads shorter and less interested than DaVorre. He had to be in his wolf form, entering the house on all fours.
“Search over there.”
“Wait. What will the Prime say?”
“He’ll say, ‘Thank you,’ if we bring her to him on a platter. Now find her!”
Another mention of the Prime, after one of the DeSarte Lycanthru threatened me with his name last night. The Prime sends his greetings. I fingered the crossbow lever, ready.
They started shuffling about the room. They must have been watching the house, after taking the Serrones. Watching for my return.
Which worked out nicely.
I held my position until DaVorre strode past. He was a head shorter than me, his face full of stubble. I raised the crossbow to his temple, ready to fire. “Where are they?” I demanded.
DaVorre paused. He turned slowly toward me. “Well, well. You are tough, aren’t you, sweetmeat?”
“Answer the question,” I hissed.
“Yeah, we never finished our little chat last night. Did we?”
“We can talk now.” I shrugged. “Sorry I burned down your tavern. I do that sometimes. Now where are the Serrones?”
He chuckled. “Don’t worry. You’ll join them soon enough.”
Something growled behind me. I turned to see his partner, a tall wolf, lunging at me from across the room. I fired a bolt into his chest. He gasped, his limbs going limp as he fell toward me. I pulled away but his body caught the edge of my crossbow and yanked it from my hands.
DaVorre rammed his head into my stomach, forcing me backward. I slammed against a wall, wincing at the sharp pain in my back and neck. He wasted no time, grabbing my shoulders and hurling me sideways. I slid across the dining table, dragging bread baskets and bowls of untouched stew with me as I fell to the floor.
DaVorre advanced on me. From my seated position against the rear wall, his short, angry figure actually looked menacing.
I shook off my injuries and focused. “I’ll ask you one last time. Where are the Serrones?”
DaVorre threw his head back and laughed, showing donkeysized teeth. “You don’t know when you’re beaten, do you, Mademoiselle? Don’t worry, sweetmeat.” He grinned, spreading his arms like claws as he rushed at me. “I’ll show you when you’re beaten.”
I flicked my wrists outward, producing my gloves’ silver blades. I took a step back and shoved a blade deep into DaVorre’s ribs. His eyes and mouth popped in surprise.
“Where are they?” I growled. “I swear you’ll all pay for this!”
DaVorre snorted, gritting his teeth as his knees buckled. “What they suffered – is nothing,” he rasped. “– like what you’ll suffer.”
DaVorre fell facedown to the floor. The impact of his body – and his threat – jarred my senses. He seemed so confident I would suffer more than the Serrones had. It was not so much a warning. More of a certainty.
I shook off a sudden chill.
Further noise came from the streets outside. Possibly more Lycanthru coming for me, or some agitated mob. Either way, I couldn’t stick around to greet them.
I ran through the back door to the stable where I left Crimson. From the stable’s open windows, the shouts became more distinct.
“DaVorre went in there! I think he’s got her! Wha -? DaVorre!”
I didn’t wait to greet DaVorre’s friend. Climbing quickly onto the saddle, I kicked at Crimson’s flanks to charge off. Emerging from the stable, I saw several men and a few wolves roaming the streets. My sudden appearance startled them.
“It’s – It’s her! It’s the Red Rider!” one man cried, pointing at me as I hurried past, maneuvering around them all.
“Get her!” one wolf growled.
The wolves chased after me fast. I ducked down an alleyway and charged up another main street. I heard more of them howling up ahead.
Two wolves emerged from alleys ahead of me.
I tugged on Crimson’s reins and he skidded to a halt. I prepared to dash away down another side street, but noticed as I turned that the wolves weren’t moving. They simply stood at the mouth of each passage, watching me like guarding statues.
I ignored their odd choice and rushed away as quickly as I could. We ran into more of them, but I found a path out of town. We sped away at full gallop as the wolf cries faded in the distance.
I rushed toward the woods, taking the path that led straight to the Strineaus’ house, as the wolves began to howl far behind me. One after another, howling, howling, howling.
What were they planning?
23.
I sat perched in the tree limb near the clearing that surrounded the Strineaus’ house, overlooking the crooked path that wound deep into the woods. I had led Crimson to a gnarled cluster of trees and bushes nearby to lie down and rest until it was time to move. We had arrived in time to see Monsieur Strineau come home, and see Madame Strineau greet him at the door. Afterward, they had gone inside for nearly an hour. There was nothing to do but sit and wait for something to happen. For one of them to leave the house, or for another Lycanthru wolf to pass by.
I seethed inside, thinking of the Serrones. They had taken me into their house, saved me from the Lycanthru’s attacks, fed me information to use in stopping them. Now they were gone, and who knew if they were dead or alive? The Lycanthru might keep them for sport – as they were apparently doing with Claudette – but I doubted it.
In any case, after all the Strineaus’ efforts to make a fool of me, and Monsieur Strineau’s boasting about their plans to destroy me, surely something would happen near their house tonight. I just had to watch for it.
I could see their distant house through the trees well enough to know their candles were still lit inside. The moon hung low in the dark violet sky, waiting and watching like I was.
Finally, the front door opened. Monsieur Strineau stepped out, carrying a lantern, and Madame Strineau followed him out onto their lawn. I squinted at their pale pink bedclothes.
Then I realized they were both standing in front of their house, completely naked.
Monsieur Strineau set the lantern on the porch, and Madame Strineau handed him a small object. He took it and they both tilted their heads back suddenly. They were sharing a drink.
They set their tiny cups beside the lantern, then stood with their arms spread wide, their heads tilted back again.
Their bodies contorted, arching strangely, their skin growing darker. Madame Strineau’s luxurious hair flattened and seemed to blend into the skin of her back. Their necks craned forward, their faces lengthening. I watched as they grew fur all over their naked bodies and their heads grew pointed ears and snouts. Furry tails sprouted from behind them as they bent over, having fully transformed into wolves. They were drinking Lycanum and standing in the moonlight to change shape.
I gasped. Madame Strineau had transformed into the auburn wolf that knocked me down last night, on top of the Lycanthru’s cave lair. The same wolf that threatened me in my nightmare as I slept at their house. The Strineaus had re-designed the bedroom I slept in, wrapped me in bandages, and suspended me from the ceiling to taunt me. Then they put it back the way it had been, letting me think it was just a nightmare.
Both wolves now remained standing on their hind legs, as Monsieur Strineau bent to blow out the lantern on the porch. Then they dropped to all fours and began scrambling toward the woods.
Towards me.
I flinched, then readied my crossbow. But they didn’t notice me. They were rushing too fast to mount an attack. They continued on, right beneath the tree I sat in.
“Hurry, Darling, we’ll be late!” Monsieur Strineau growled as he padded below me.
“I’m coming,” she answered, her slender form loping after him.
I watched her pass with a feeling of pure rage. Before she knocked me unconscious last night, Madame Strineau had removed her clothes to transform, leaving bloody shreds for me to find after she attacked me. Then this morning, she put on a matching dress, to puzzle me all the more.
They had planned it all before they even approached me.
But why?
I climbed down a few branches, then dropped to the ground. Resisting the urge to whistle for Crimson, I hurried to retrieve him from his hiding place. The Strineaus were far enough up the path that we could follow them now, but I didn’t want their canine ears to hear a shrill whistle.
I drew Crimson from behind the bushes, then patted his neck as he shook off his sleep. I climbed onto the saddle and urged him down the path at a fast trot. We could easily catch the Strineaus, but I wanted to know where they were headed. I soon spotted swaying leaves and broken twigs that marked their flight through the woods, making it easy to follow their path.
A few minutes after tracking them down various paths, I found the same cave the Lycanthru had used last night.
A loud din of grunts and howls came from inside. There had to be at least thirty of them in there now. So thick with the wolves I could smell them.
I slid carefully down Crimson’s back and touched quietly to the ground, then led him away to a nearby cluster of trees. I checked all around, seeing and hearing no one. They were all in the cave, laughing and celebrating. After the Strineaus discredited me, they must have assumed I was no longer a threat. They obviously weren’t expecting me.
I stole up the hill quickly, then crept to the hole in the cave ceiling where the moonlight shone in. Approaching from below, I now noticed long scrapes cut into the grass around the hole. The Lycanthru must have dug the opening themselves, along with these strafing lines that surrounded it. Glancing around, I noticed something else on the thick tree trunk beside me, a grouping of straight lines against its base. I moved closer and felt it. It was a series of tall straight bamboo rods, tied around the tree. Surely more of the Lycanthru’s work, but for what possible purpose?
I decided to figure it out later. I crawled back to the hole and laid down flat, peering just past the rim so I wouldn’t cast any shadows below. I could distinguish a few of the wolves, about a dozen of them. From the way they crowded into the corner, there must have been about thirty more of them beneath me, all paying rapt attention to a black wolf that stood upright to address them.
“—so we will be free to return to La Rue Sauvage soon enough,” he snarled. “Until then, be on your guard. The Red Rider will surely return to DeSarte, ready to fight.”
A murmur of grunts and low growls circled the cave.
The black wolf held up his paws for silence. “However, thanks to Rene and Liana, she won’t get much support. They have seen to it that no one believes her stories of what she witnessed in town or here in the cave. Before long, no one will believe a word she says.”
Howls and chuckles of approval reverberated against the rock walls. I clenched my jaw. I had no way to kill all forty of them at once, even if I reloaded in the blink of an eye. But I could stand at the mouth of the cave and fire at the ones that came out, perhaps frightening the rest of them enough to make them flee or hide inside. Then perhaps I could escape while they were still scared.
Or I could just take out their leader right now with a single bolt.
I rolled the crossbow off my shoulder slowly, inch by inch. Then I brought it up to my eye and lined up my sight. I took my time, focusing carefully on the black wolf as he kept talking.
“Meanwhile,” he continued. “Should the Rider try to interfere with us, we have our little plaything here for security.” He held out his paw toward the crowd and someone shoved something white and soft at him.
It was Claudette, in her little dress, her eyes bulging as she stared around the room at the circle of monsters.
I steadied my hands on the crossbow, keeping the leader in my sights. One shot would take him out and scatter most of the wolves, perhaps all of them. It might even startle them enough to make them abandon their plans and run for cover.
Or they might sta
nd their ground, using Claudette to hold me at bay.
And rip her to pieces.
24.
I kept the crossbow trained on the black wolf in the cave below me. But I didn’t dare shoot while he held Claudette before him, with another forty wolves surrounding them.
I shut my eyes a second. Shutting out the pain, the horror of another innocent child dying the way Suzette did. I couldn’t let that happen. Even if it meant letting the Lycanthru go. For now. I needed some other way to attack.
Claudette shook a l ittle in the black wolf’s grip. She seemed stunned, so horror-stricken she could barely speak.
“A month from now, we will reclaim our hold on La Rue Sauvage, when we have banished the Red Rider permanently.”
The wolves howled and stamped their paws with delight, sending small tremors through the grassy roof. The cave seemed to be filled.
But not for long.
I edged away from the hole on my elbows until I could roll away. Then I stood and made my way back down the hill to Crimson, removing my red cloak and tying it behind his reins. It would billow behind him as he galloped.
I patted his neck, staring into his giant eyes. Knowing what I was telling him to do, and hoping he could outrun them. All forty of them.
I slapped his flank. “Hyah!” I yelled.
He took off running.
I hurried back up the hill as the cave fell silent. Followed by confused grumbles and snarls.
As I climbed high enough to hide behind the thick tree, a wolf bounded out of the cave, looking left and right. “It’s her!” he cried, instantly spotting Crimson thundering off, my cloak billowing in the wind behind his back. “It’s the Red Rider!”
He tore off down the path after Crimson. For the next several seconds, the cave vomited up a mass of angry wolves, scrambling after him, mouths open, fangs glinting in the moonlight. I counted as they passed. Twelve, eighteen, twentyfive, thirty-two, thirty-nine. A couple more came straggling behind. That had to be most of them, if not all. I saw a few black wolves race past but they seemed smaller than the leader who had addressed the pack.
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