Along Came a Wolf (The Yellow Hoods, #1): Steampunk meets Fairy Tale (7 page)

There were wall-to-wall bookcases in the room, but unlike upstairs, there were neither worktables nor books on the floor. In front of an empty fireplace was a nice rug, and on that, a comfortable-looking, worn couch and a disused, worn decorative chair and ottoman.

Andre did a full tour, hunting again for a brass tube or plans. There was nothing—nothing but books, bookcases, a fireplace, furniture, and the rug.

“So, is this room as simple as it seems? I doubt it. Why have the stairs painted so perfectly to look like a wall? Every time I take you for simple, Monsieur Klaus, you show me I’m wrong.”

He examined a dozen books, one by one, and discarded each of them. He moved the furniture and rolled up the rug. There were some meaningless lines; clearly the hardwood flooring had been imperfectly done. 

Then something dawned on him. There were no windows, no oil lamps, nor any candles—and yet the room was perfectly lit. Bewildered, Andre walked into the middle of the room and held out his arm to see where the shadow would be cast.

“No shadows? Remarkable. So, this man
is
a genius. A master of hiding in plain sight, it seems.”

“LeLoup!” came a faint shout from one of his horsemen outside. Andre ran out to join them.

Two of his men were standing beside their horses. A yellow bundle was tied up beside them, on the ground.

“Only two of you? Where’s the other one?” he demanded to know.

“He didn’t make it,” said one of the horsemen.

“What? Taken down by a girl in a yellow hood?” said LeLoup aghast.

“Um, yes,” said the other horseman.

“Well,” said LeLoup, “it seems that a Klaus of any age isn’t to be underestimated.”

“We did catch her though!” said the first horseman, pointing at the yellow bundle.

Andre rolled his eyes. “Yes. I can
see
that.” He couldn’t see her face, but didn’t care.

“Excellent. Things are getting back on track,” said Andre. “Put her in the kitchen. Monsieur Klaus will come to us now.” He couldn’t help but grin.

CHAPTER SEVEN

What Big Ears

Egelina-Marie’s mother had wanted her to have a different career—anything other than being one of the guards
men
. She wasn’t sure how she’d tell her friends that her only child, her lovely daughter, had become a town guard.

“Egg-lean-na Mar-ie” her mother would say, drawing out her name, believing it would help her daughter change her mind. “What type of career is that for a woman? You could be a seamstress, or a nurse, or—”

“A guardsman, Mama. I want to be a guardsman, like Papa,” Egelina-Marie would reply. 

A couple of months ago, when her daughter had turned nineteen years old, she finally accepted the path her daughter had chosen. 

She’d been coming to terms with it over time—ever since she’d first noticed her daughter sneaking off into the forest with an old rifle of her father’s. Sometimes she would secretly follow her daughter and watch her practice, amazed at her skill as she shot, from an incredible distance away, at rocks she’d lined up on a fallen tree. 

Yesterday, as she’d watched her daughter up on stage with the other boot camp graduates, her heart had filled with pride. Egelina-Marie was the only woman among them, and from the reaction of the crowd, she wouldn’t be the last. Her mother admired her daughter’s determination—it reminded her so much of her husband.

“You
must
remember,” said the overbearing sergeant to Egelina-Marie, “that even when you are marching for hours, you have to stay alert. It’s probably the most important lesson for day one. You never know when
something
is going to happen. You need to be ready for it.”

Egelina-Marie rolled her eyes and kept walking. They had already talked about alertness and being ready for anything. It had been repeated many times over at the month-long boot camp. It had been emphasized almost to the exclusion of everything else, other than basic fighting skills and—of course — the importance of not shooting yourself or a colleague.

The sergeant could sense Egelina-Marie’s irritation. “You don’t believe me?” he asked, puffing up his chest.

She stopped and turned to look at him. “Look where we are. We are on a mountain road in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by forest. This place has no political importance. It doesn’t have any resources. All it has is a great view, nice people, and—”

The sergeant interrupted and smugly stated, “Cheese. Everyone loves our cheese. It is the heart of the commerce of our town.” He rubbed his belly unconsciously.

Egelina-Marie laughed. “Will we be invaded for our cheese, then? I’ll keep my eyes peeled for giant mice.”

The sergeant shook his head. He didn’t appreciate her attitude. “Danger and surprise can come in all forms. There are bears and—”

Egelina-Marie turned and started walking again. “Okay, bears. Mountain lions. Sometimes, even bandits,” she said, agreeing there was some danger to be found.

The sergeant was about to say something else, but Egelina-Marie quickly gestured for him to stop and be quiet.

“What? Now there’s suddenly danger? Are you making fun of me?” he asked.

“Look!” She pointed to a boy, far off in the distance, running up the road and waving his arms.

The sergeant looked around. “What?” he said. He took his rifle from his shoulder.

“Don’t you see him?” said Egelina-Marie, surprised at her companion. “Right there! A young boy, running up the road, yelling something. I can’t read his lips but I can tell something is wrong.” She started to run.

“What boy? Hey! Where are you going?”

Richy kept waving at Egelina-Marie until he was certain she was coming. He had started to believe this would be the first day in his life he wouldn’t run into guards on patrol.

“I need your help! You have to go to Monsieur Klaus’ house!” repeated Richy, gasping.

Egelina-Marie examined the boy. Confirming he wasn’t visibly injured, she said, “Slowly, please. What’s the problem?”

Richy nodded as he reorganized his thoughts. “You have to help. My friend is in trouble. There are men on horses, with guns, and they’re chasing her!”

“Okay, enough!” said the sergeant, huffing and puffing as he finally arrived. “Move along, troublemaker.”

Egelina-Marie was taken aback. “He was telling me there are men on horses, with guns.”

The sergeant looked down at Richy. “Hmm—not likely. You can’t trust children.” He almost spat the last word out.

“I’m thirteen!” said Richy, offended. He straightened up to his full height. Though he was gangly, he was the tallest of the Yellow Hoods, and came up to the sergeant’s shoulder and Egelina-Marie’s chin.

“They’re always coming up with stories like this. They want to see us dance like puppets, while they pull the strings,” said the sergeant. “Bah! You’ll come to learn they can’t be trusted.”

Richy knew kids who had done exactly that, sometimes finding themselves marched off for a visit to the town jail. “No, not me! I’ve never done that!” said Richy. “You don’t even know me! Please!” Richy was starting to panic.

The sergeant scoffed. “You’re all alike.
Troublemakers!
Now go!”

Egelina-Marie threw a sharp look at the sergeant. “Didn’t you say we needed to be alert?”

“This is not what I meant,” her superior replied defensively.

Trying to prove his point, the sergeant asked, “Did you see a bear?”

“No,” Richy replied, puzzled. He didn’t see what this had to do with the situation.

“Did you see, perhaps, a mountain lion?” The sergeant was being patronizing.

“No, but—” Richy tried to reply.

“Leave, before we arrest you.” The sergeant gestured for him to leave.

Egelina-Marie glared at the sergeant. “I’m going with him. I believe him.”

“No, you are not,” said the sergeant. “My orders to you are to continue the patrol.”

Richy looked at Egelina-Marie with hope, and then tugged on her hand. “Please—quickly. My friends are in trouble. Monsieur Klaus is in trouble.”

When she turned to run off with Richy, the sergeant raised his rifle and took aim.

“Stop!” he barked at them. “You are under arrest! This is your last chance. As a guardsman, you are to follow orders from your superior. Leave the boy, and come back here, now! Or else… or else I will be forced to shoot.”

Egelina-Marie couldn’t believe the irony of the situation, given their earlier conversation. She slowed and hollered back, “I doubt you can even see us properly from there. Shoot if you have to—I have people to save.”

Tee stamped her foot and looked at her grandfather with steely eyes. “I won’t!”

Bakon interrupted, “It’s for your own good, kid.”

Tee was frustrated and angry. There was no way she’d abandon Elly. “I’m
not
going home. She’s my best friend. She’s in danger because she saved me!”

Nikolas bowed his head to think. He was stuck between his granddaughter’s loyalty to her friend, and his sense of duty to her and her mother. He couldn’t argue with how she felt—after all, he’d been secretly building it up in her for quite some time.

“Squeals’ back,” said Bakon. Squeals emerged from the bushes, brushing needles and dirt off his shirt.

Everyone gathered around to hear Squeals’ report. “I was able to get a look into the kitchen. There’s a yellow-cloaked kid in there. She’s doing a good job of keeping her face hidden. I think LeLoup might not know he has the wrong kid.” He gave a hopeful smile.

Nikolas stroked his beard. “Yes. This changes a few things,” he mused. “Some very important things.” He turned to Tee. “My dear, are you sure you are ready for this?”

“Yes!” she said determinedly.

“Good. We are going to need you if we are going to throw LeLoup off his game,” said Nikolas thoughtfully.

Tee pulled her slingshot from one of Elly’s cloak pockets. “I’m ready.”

Her grandfather smiled. “Good. This is what we will do.” He started to outline his plan to the group.

Tee’s thoughts returned to Elly.
I won’t let you down
, she promised herself.

CHAPTER EIGHT

What Sharp Teeth

Nikolas walked down the road toward his house. The mounted horseman at the front of the house kept an eye trained on him as he slowly approached. When Nikolas was about a hundred yards away, the horseman raised his flintlock pistol. 

“Tell LeLoup,” said Nikolas, projecting his voice, “that I want to talk with him, if you’d be so kind.”

As a precaution, the horseman scanned the forest on either side of the road. Convinced Nikolas was alone, the horseman called into the house for LeLoup.

LeLoup came to the doorstep. He held Klaus’ long shocking rod in one hand, and straightened his mustache with the other. 

“Monsieur Klaus, of everything in your home, this is the most interesting thing I’ve found—and yet, it is not very interesting.” He omitted the fact that it was the only thing he’d found of any note. “I’ve never been so quickly disarmed. This small handle seems clunky, inelegant. It’s a shame it’s now broken,” said LeLoup, arrogantly assuming that was the reason he couldn’t get it to work.

Nikolas took his time answering. “I can see clearly from here that it isn’t broken. I’m quite surprised you can’t figure it out. A man of your reputation should be able to handle such a simple device, yes? Even a
child
can use it.” He didn’t like to be patronizing, but he could see it bothered LeLoup and he needed every advantage he could get right now. Nikolas guessed LeLoup was insecure underneath his bravado. “Could you hand it over?” he said, gesturing to LeLoup. “I’ll demonstrate. It really couldn’t be
more
simple.”

LeLoup bit his lip, trying to think of a witty response that wouldn’t make him look weak. He walked out of the house, and up to the horseman who still had a pistol trained on Nikolas. 

Turning to Nikolas, and sporting a false smile, LeLoup said, “No, I don’t believe you could get it to work either. I’m sure it is a single-use thing, its mysteries now consumed. But… do you know what still has value? Your granddaughter’s life. I have
her
. You have what I want. A trade is in order.”