“A little girl?” I repeated, my neck tensing.
“She’s been missing for a few days,” he said solemnly. “They found her early this morning, in the woods. What was left of her.”
I stepped toward the casket.
“Helena, you don’t need to –.”
“Yes,” I said. “I do.” I opened the lid and fought the nausea building in my throat. Torn shreds of a pale blue dress made a mockery of an innocent child’s life. The small body was mostly skeleton, with a few limbs missing and very little flesh.
The Lycanthru never left much meat.
I needed to see this, especially now. I had to remind myself what I was fighting and why. No matter how much it recalled my own pain.
Or how much it frightened me, knowing I might soon fill a similar casket.
I closed the lid quietly, allowing myself to become lost in dark memories. I could still picture the sight of the other skeletal hand, the only thing that remained of a once-beautiful life. Could still hear the coffin lid echo as I declared to everyone at the funeral mass that this would end.
That I would end it.
I inhaled and looked up, breathing in the burning incense. “I haven’t been back inside here since –.”
I paused.
“Since the funeral,” he finished for me. “I understand, Helena. So does the Lord. Just know he’s always ready to receive you, and you can go to him for comfort, wherever you may be.”
“Even in the woods?” I asked. I knew Father Vestille didn’t approve of my killing wolves, since they were humans taking wolf form.
I glanced back to see him studying the floor. “Even in the darkest of places,” he said. “The Lord is always present, ready to help and guide you to do what is right.”
When it came to the wolves, we disagreed on what was right, but I didn’t want to argue. “That’s what I’ve come for,” I said. “I need guidance. I’ve encountered a new wolf named Grenault. Bigger and more cunning than the others. He attacked the Denues last night.”
Father Vestille straightened. “The Denues?”
“Yes. Madame Leóne visited the Denues’ clothier yesterday to try to sell some dresses. Grenault meant to lay hold of Madame Leóne’s address. He plans to attack her.”
Father Vestille’s voice hardened. “Then you must stop him.”
“Father – he’s not afraid of me.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Doesn’t he know that one touch of silver from your bolts will destroy him?”
“It doesn’t frighten him like it does the others. He hasn’t fed on whatever rumors the other wolves are spreading about me. He sees me for what I am. A frightened girl with a crossbow.”
He stepped closer to rest his hand on my shoulder. “Helena. You’re far more than that. You’ve been blessed in learning that silver destroys them. That’s protected you and made them fear you. But that’s not the only thing they fear. It’s your determination. Your courage. Your skill as a hunter and a rider. Without those qualities, the silver alone would pose little threat.”
I swallowed. “He – He almost killed me the other night. And again last night.”
“What?” Father Vestille whirled me about to face him. “Helena, are you all right?”
I nodded, keeping my head down. “He held me by the throat.”
Father Vestille hugged me tightly to his chest, cradling my head. “There’s no chance I can persuade you to avoid them, is there?”
I shook my head.
“Then you must stop this man, however you can.”
I jerked my head up. “You sound as though you want me to strike him down.”
“I can’t condone killing innocent men,” he said, releasing me from the embrace. “But above all, I want you to survive.”
“These men are all far from innocent,” I reminded him.
He spread his palms in surrender. “Nevertheless, I am not fit to judge them, and neither are you. But – you must protect Lisette Leóne. If you can stop this Grenault without taking his life, then do so. If not – well, I must leave that to you, and to God.”
He took a step back, then made the sign of the cross over himself – and over me.
“You’re blessing me?” I choked.
“I always bless you, Helena,” he said. “Whether I agree with your activities or not. I want only what is best for you and for La Rue Sauvage. And I believe the Lord is using you right now, to protect us all.”
“… thank you,” I managed.
Beyond the pews where he stood, I saw the front doors I had stormed through two months ago. When I determined to find and destroy the wolves, once and for all.
Then I stared back at the casket that held the remains of the little girl I had not heard about, and had not saved. How many children had I already failed to protect? How many more would I allow to die?
“What if I can’t?” I asked. “Grenault’s not like the other wolves. He’s faster, stronger, smarter. He’s a monster.” I hung my head, fighting back tears. “Father Vestille, what if I can’t stop him?”
He pursed his lips in thought. “Perhaps God can.”
I sniffed. “What do you mean?”
“This monster wolf of yours sounds like the battle between David and Goliath.”
“… perhaps.”
He started to pace. “Then perhaps it will end the same way. Before David fought Goliath, he was a shepherd. The scriptures say he fought wild animals that tried to steal his sheep, including a lion and a bear. He even rescued a lamb from the lion’s mouth. Just like you’ve fought other wolves. Monsieur Grenault may be stronger and more dangerous, but he’s still a wolf. If the Lord led you in fighting the others, you can trust him to help you defeat this one.”
“He sees right through me,” I said. “The weapons and tactics I use against the other wolves don’t even slow him down.”
“Then you need to exercise your faith,” he said. “Trust the Lord to show you new ways to fight.”
That didn’t sound like the most practical guidance. But then, I had not come to Father Vestille for what was practical. “You still pray for me?”
“Every day and night. I wish you weren’t doing this, Helena. But I always pray for your safety. And I’ll pray that you find some way to stop this monster.” His eyes narrowed, his voice growing cold as stone. “I don’t pretend to fully understand the evil you’re fighting, Helena, or what you’re going through. But the Lord does. If this Grenault is as dangerous as you say and you can stop him – then you can stop them all.”
I waited across the street from Clothier de Denue that afternoon, watching until I saw Madame Leóne march toward the front door. She had a clear bounce to her step as she approached, cradling her beautiful dresses.
I strode toward her with equal purpose. “Madame Leóne,” I greeted.
She turned, looking delighted. “Helena! What a lovely surprise! What are you doing here?”
“I – just came by to support you,” I said.
“Oh, how wonderful!” she said, hugging me. “Well, come on in, then, and let’s hope for some pleasant news!” She threw her arm around me to escort me inside. Though, in fact, I was here to escort her. I didn’t know what I would say to keep her and her address safe from Grenault, but I kept a hand on my crossbow, if all else failed.
We stepped inside. Monsieur Denue stood at the counter. He gaped at the sight of me, dumbfounded. “Marguerite!” he called over his shoulder.
Madame Denue emerged from the rear, as Monsieur Denue said something in her ear. Madame Denue turned to see us, then stepped forward as Monsieur Denue retreated to the back.
“Wellll, this doesn’t look too good,” Madame Leóne said, sighing as her armful of dresses slumped.
Yet Madame Denue seemed to be smiling at me, forcing her eyes away to address Madame Leóne. “Good afternoon, Madame.” She smiled at me again. “Mademoiselle.”
“I hope so,” Madame Leóne said, her voice rising slightly. “Is Monsieur Denue int
erested? Or interested in becoming interested, if I can show you some other dresses?”
“Hm? Oh, I honestly didn’t get a chance to talk to Andre about your dresses last night,” Madame Denue said with a wave. “He was in a mood and then – then some other business came up.”
“Oh,” Madame Leóne said, her voice falling.
“But – well, I’ll tell you. Let me take these from you and I’ll pay you for them, whatever you think is reasonable. And I’ll do whatever I can to convince Andre to order more.” She took the pile from Madame Leóne and set them on a nearby table.
“Oh, my!” Madame Leóne said. “Well, thank you. I – I can try to make some more for you this afternoon, if you’re certain.”
“Of course, of course,” Madame Denue said. “I’ll talk to Andre. Your designs are marvelous, and any friend of Mademoiselle Basque garners special treatment, if you ask me.”
Madame Leóne blinked, glancing down at me. “I didn’t know you two knew each other. I thought you just met yesterday.”
Madame Denue waved her off again. “Well, she helped me in a private matter a while ago. A very private matter. So we certainly intend to treat her friends well. You just work on however many more dresses you can and I’ll help Andre see the value in purchasing them.”
“Oh. Oh, thank you, Madame! Thank you! I’ll start right away. And you have my address if you need anything particular.”
“Yes, yes, I have that somewhere at the house. Just have to dig through some debris to find it.”
Madame Leóne blinked. “Debris?”
“Never mind. Really, just bring the dresses here whenever you finish and we’ll buy them.”
I scanned the room. “Where’s Grenault?”
Madame Leóne looked at me. “You know Grenault?”
“Yes,” I said. “We … spoke here yesterday.”
“Of course, of course. Well, I honestly don’t know. He said he had some other business to tend to today, some sort of emergency situation. Well, we know about those, don’t we? Anyway, he asked if he could take care of his matter today so we allowed it. He’ll be back tomorrow if you wish to see him again.” She winked at me. “He’s a tall young man, isn’t he? I don’t blame you for asking after him.” She turned back to Madame Leóne. “Let’s work out a payment for these, shall we? Come along.”
She led Madame Leóne to the empty counter to discuss a fair price, as I surveyed the empty room. Where could Grenault be? Last night’s skirmish had not injured or frightened him. If anything, he practically gloated. Even after losing his friends, I couldn’t imagine him requesting to skip a day of work to mourn his losses.
What could be so important to make him miss another attempt to gather Madame Leóne’s address?
As night fell, I resumed my usual perch on the roof of the cooper shop. I hesitated to spy on La Maison de Touraine from there again. The sight of Grenault charging at me from below remained fresh in my mind’s eye. But I needed to overcome my fears. Starting with the fear of returning to my standard methods of watching for the Lycanthru.
Thankfully, Grenault wasn’t waiting on the roof to ambush me, though I had prepared myself for that possibility. I only hoped he wasn’t sharing my secret spying method with the other Lycanthru, now that I had killed off his closest companions in the order.
I watched a few latecomers file into La Maison, including several Lycanthru that I recognized. But I never saw Grenault.
However, I noticed Gerard Touraine himself exit several times through the front double doors. In all the nights I had watched his tavern, I never once saw Touraine venture outside before closing time.
Each time he emerged tonight, he looked up and down the streets before slowly retreating back inside. He didn’t seem nervous, but expectant, as if watching for someone.
After the fourth time he did this, I decided to seek him out myself.
I entered La Maison de Touraine through the front doors, letting the men part for me like the Red Sea as every conversation hushed to low tones. Normally, I would enjoy the reaction. Tonight it only reminded me that my intimidating persona was all in their minds, yet Grenault saw through it. How long before everyone else did?
I stared hard at the two men seated on the counter. They hesitated a moment, then slid off their stools and shuffled away quickly. At least I could still frighten a few of them.
“What’ll it be, Mademoiselle?” Touraine asked, pressing his palms to the counter.
“A tankard of your best rum, Monsieur,” I said.
“More water, then,” he said, filling a mug.
“And any information you have about Grenault.”
“I was searching for you earlier, hoping you would show,” he said. “Grenault’s been talking to a bunch of people the last few hours,” Touraine said, keeping his head down. “Not his usual crowd, but strangers at other tables, asking who could help make crossbow bolts. Sounds like he’s been asking around town today, too.” He lifted his head and raised his eyebrows slightly.
I shuddered. That was why Grenault didn’t go to the clothier today. “Crossbow bolts?”
He gave the slightest nod. “Wanted to know who could make bolts quickly, in abundance, and have access to silver with a facility for melting it down.” He licked his lips. “He’s hunting you, Mademoiselle.”
I swallowed. Then clenched my jaw. “And what has he found out, to your knowledge?”
Touraine stared at the floor behind the counter, releasing a heavy sigh. “He seems to have narrowed it down to two places,” he said. “The silversmith, L’atelier de Forgeron de Filliene, and a blacksmith, L’atelier –.”
“L’atelier de Forgeron de Leóne!” I gasped.
He met my eyes with a look of horror. “Yes,” he said. “He’s found you, Mademoiselle.”
No, I thought. He’s found Pierre.
I turned and ran from the counter, throwing open the doors and whistling for Crimson.
MY FATE
11.
I leaned forward in the saddle as Crimson pounded through the village’s cobblestone paths. We had to reach L’atelier de Forgeron de Leóne before Grenault found Pierre there. Once he concluded that Pierre had been making silver-tipped bolts for me, he would kill him. In fact, Grenault would surely kill any suspected blacksmith to cut off my resources. Even Pierre’s father.
I urged Crimson faster.
We reached the Leónes’ blacksmith shop at the edge of town, with its large back lawn that led into the shadowed woods. I could see that the furnace and a torch had been lit within the shop. Its door hung open, and someone screamed inside.
Madame Leóne.
I curled my leg over the saddle to slide off Crimson as he halted at the porch. I leaped to the ground and stormed inside, crossbow raised. Beyond the heat of the center furnace, Madame Leóne stood in the corner, pressing her back against the wall. The table before her held a tall candle, spindle, and a pile of fabric, with a half-finished dress beside a completed one.
Between her and the table, Grenault stood at his full eight foot height as an enormous black wolf. He held a large metal plate in one paw, spreading his other claw wide to slash at Madame Leóne’s face.
“Stop!” I cried.
He whirled at me. Then flashed his glistening fangs. “Well, isn’t this convenient? Everything I need in one place.”
I fired. He raised the black metal plate and my bolt struck it with an echoing ring. I squinted to see it was a discarded furnace grate with thin, misshapen slats.
“Nine,” Grenault said.
My nerves flared. I fired again. And once again, he deflected it easily with the heavy grate. “Eight.”
My blood surged, my breath coming in short gasps. His countdown of my remaining bolts felt like a death knoll.
“Helena, it’s – it’s one of them,” Madame Leóne stammered. “You didn’t imagine it. He’s not a wolf. He’s – He’s some sort of –.”
“Monster,” I said, advancing on him with the c
rossbow. “Soon to be a memory.”
He circled with me, unperturbed. “Lisette appears to have been working hard at her fine dresses since late afternoon,” he said. “Now here she is, late into the evening, waiting to greet me. I persuaded her to confess that her husband and son are away. They left after supper to repair some horseshoes for a family across town. I’ll tend to them later, after I burn this place to the ground. Until then, it’s just the three of us.”
“When they return, there’ll only be two of us,” I said as I continued circling with him, making my way closer to Madame Leóne. Then he paused, and I paused with him. He had taken control of the fight.
“You’re not trying to get between me and my enchanting lady friend, are you, Helena?” Grenault joked. “Don’t be jealous. I’ll spend plenty of time with each of you. All night, or even longer, if necessary.”
“Step away from her,” I ordered, lifting the crossbow higher. Knowing the weapon was all but useless.
“So forceful. You almost sound brave. Not at all like a terrified child.” He snorted, taking half a step forward as I stepped back. “Tonight I’ll take you back to the Lycanthru as my prize. Then, my precious ‘Red Rider’, we’ll tear you apart slowly, day by day, piece by piece. Until even you scream for them to make me the new Prime.”
“No!” Madame Leóne shrieked, seizing two large knitting needles and lunging at his back. She stabbed deep into him, her teeth bared with shocking savagery. “Run, Helena!”
Grenault growled and backhanded her, sending her flying. Her back struck a pillar and she crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
I fired twice at Grenault’s profile before he could turn back.
The furnace grate appeared instantly, deflecting both bolts. “Six,” he gloated.
My shoulders trembled in a spasm as he kept the grate before him, reaching back to pull out the knitting needles. He was taking his sweet time with me, like a cat batting at a helpless mouse, over and over.
The Red Rider (The Red Rider Saga Book 1) Page 7