BreadCrumb Trail (The Yellow Hoods, #2): Steampunk meets Fairy Tale (11 page)

“The shocking stick seemed to have that principle, but I improved on it, significantly. Still,
don’t
let the wires get cut, or the tank punctured. That could result in… let’s say…
significant
unpleasantness.”

“What? What are wires? What’s—” said the Hound, confused. He cringed at having made a second ignorant comment.

Simon grumbled under his breath before sporting a fake smile and continuing. “
Wires
are these flexible rope-like things, here. They are what allow the energy from the tank to flow through to the control boxes, which then controls how much goes to the gloves.”

“Oh, got it,” said the Hound, nodding. “This is amazing.”

Simon relaxed, feeling the Hound was genuinely in awe of his genius. “Now, I need you to field test them. I need to know how they perform in real situations. Also, given how you’ve added some muscle in recent months, you should be able to handle the weight for several hours at a time.”

The Hound was surprised by his patron’s remarks. Simon didn’t seem to miss the details of anything.

“Cleeves has replacement clothes for you, in the newer style. I had your new long-coat made larger to accommodate all of this.”

“Great,” said the Hound eagerly. “I’ll give these a try.”

There was a knock at the door. It was Cleeves.

“Send him in,” said Simon, anticipating why Cleeves had disturbed them. “It should be Marcus. I’ll leave the two of you alone. Remember what we discussed.”

Simon stopped just before leaving and turned to the Hound again. “Oh—I presume you came all the way back here to make sure that Maxwell Watt was properly handed over and secured.”

“Yes,” replied the Hound.

“And he is secured, then?” asked Simon.

The Hound put his arms behind his back, unconsciously standing at attention. “Yes. I saw to it myself. I made sure he is comfortable and his door properly locked. I checked the guard rotation. I also tested the door to his room, and the one at the base of the tower.”

Simon thought through his mental checklist. “Excellent,” he said, turning to go. “I do so love a reliable pet.”

“Shall I bring your tea in here?” asked Cleeves, who stood dutifully by the door.

“Um,” said the Hound, looking about. “I have no idea what to do, Cleeves.”

“That’s quite alright,” said a warm, charming voice. “You must be the Hound.” A white-haired man stepped into view. His clean-shaven face was evidently that of the man from the painting in the corridor, but older. He wore an eyepatch over his left eye.

The man turned to Cleeves. “Arthur, would you be so kind as to bring us some fresh tea, and whatever fresh bits you can scrounge up?”

Arthur Cleeves bowed and smiled. “For you, Lord Pieman, anything.”

The man then turned to the Hound. “My name is Marcus Pieman. Please, call me Marcus. We have much to discuss and, unfortunately, very little time. I have a mission for you already.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Makings of a Hood

The strong winter wind propelled the sail-carts through the Red Forest. Pierre held on tightly to the ropes tied to the sail-carts as they pulled him along on his skis.

It was well past noon and they’d been searching for hours. They had found the beginning of a trail near a burned-down old building, but just beyond the protective circle of trees it had disappeared. They only had an idea of the direction someone had taken—and they hoped it was Mounira.

“Okay—let’s split up and do a final look around. We won’t have enough light to get back if we go any further,” said Pierre, letting go of the ropes. He grabbed the poles off his back and skied around. The Yellow Hoods split off in different directions to have a look around.

Ten minutes later, just as Pierre was about to call everyone in, Richy yelled, “Wait, I think I saw something!” He pulled down the telescoping mast and sail and hopped out of his sail-cart.

Elly, Tee, and Pierre quickly made their way to Richy.

Richy dashed through the knee-high snow to a little stone alcove under a great golden oak tree. It was nearly perfectly hidden under the tree’s enormous, powerful roots. A last, desperate flicker of something had caught Richy’s eagle eyes.

“That’s the biggest golden oak I’ve ever seen,” said Pierre, marveling at it as he skied over.

“How did you see that, Richy? It took me a few seconds looking straight at it to see the hiding spot underneath,” said Tee, climbing out of her sail-cart.

Richy was too focused on getting to the alcove to hear her.

Pierre planted his poles and removed his skis. “How did she manage to find this?” he said to himself. “This has to be hundreds of yards from the burned building. Unbelievable.”

“I hope it’s her,” said Elly.

Pierre nodded, realizing he was jumping to conclusions.

Richy climbed into the small alcove and saw a kid, all curled up. He took his mitts off and placed his hand over the remains of a fire. “It’s still warm!”

“Give me some room,” said Pierre. Richy climbed out and Pierre got his upper body into it. “This is a small space indeed.” He pulled off his mitts, rubbed his hands together to warm them up a bit, and then placed them on the girl’s neck.

“I can feel her soul moving in there, but slowly,” he said as he felt the slow thump, thump, thump of her blood pumping. “Tee, get the fresh blankets ready for bundling her up. Elly, get the sheep bladders. Richy, get the sled ready… I still can’t believe she found this special place,” said Pierre.

“Blankets are ready!” said Elly, from behind him.

“The water bladders are still very warm,” said Tee.

“That grandfather of yours is amazing, coming up with a way to keep them warm this long. I was certain you were going to tell me they were ice cold,” said Pierre, while trying to figure out how to pick up the girl. “I think this is the right girl. She’s got that southerner’s skin color and looks young enough.”

Elly let out a sigh of relief.

“What’s
special
about here, by the way?” asked Richy.

“There are a handful of places like these in these forests. Legends have it that people, long ago, planted the first golden oaks on huge rocks like this so that in a blizzard, they would be able to find shelter under them—just like this girl did. There’s always some dry brush in its nooks and crannies. I can’t imagine how she found it,” said Pierre as he slowly removed Mounira from the alcove, trying to keep the once-tied blanket around her. Slipping for a moment, Pierre corrected his balance, but the blanket fell open.

“Where’s her right arm?!” Richy shrieked.

“Wow—she doesn’t have one,” said Elly, astonished.

“Look at her feet,” said Tee, pointing at Mounira’s red and blackened skin.

Pierre examined her feet. “She burned them… but how? Why would it have been so bad? Surely she would have felt the pain and done something,” said Pierre as he motioned for Tee and Elly to lay the blankets on the stretcher.

They quickly and quietly made sure Mounira was bundled up and tied properly to the sled, which they attached to one of the sail-carts.

Tee climbed into the alcove and looked at the smoldering remains of a fire. “I found some flint. There’s got to be some steel around here.” Tee carefully searched through the leaves and twigs in the far corner. “Found it!”

Elly walked over. “So, wait… she made a fire with one arm, and her feet?”

“We’ve got to go,” said Pierre. “The sheep bladders aren’t going to keep her warm forever. We have to get moving.”

“A fire with her feet and one arm,” said Richy, trying to imagine how Mounira had created the fire as he climbed into his sail-cart.

“That would have deserved a
La la
,” said Elly, thinking of Tee’s trademark victory sound that she’d seemed to have outgrown.

“You got that right,” said Tee, pulling up her mast and setting sail. “Mounira’s got some Yellow Hood in her.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Difficult Decisions

Nikolas had returned to the café after having got the search party together. He’d had to bang on the door to be let in, and wasn’t sure why Jerome had a strange look of relief when he saw Nikolas again. 

He knew the best thing he could do at this point was make preparations for when the search party returned with Mounira. He quickly convinced Anna and Alman to come with him to his town home, a couple of blocks away. 

Nikolas had had the town home built nearly twenty years ago. It was a beautiful, simple two-story place where Isabella and Nikolas would stay in Mineau now and then, as a mini vacation away from the kids. Isabella loved the shopping and bistros in Mineau, and he loved the bookstores and random merchants who would come by. He occasionally made the second home available to the Tub for whatever needs they had.

Finally, there was a knock at the door, and Nikolas answered it. Alman sprang up to see Pierre standing there, carrying a huge bundle in his hands.

“We need to get her into some dry clothes, and get hot water for the sheep bladders!” said Pierre. “I don’t know how she’s doing, but I know it’s not good.”

“I’ll take care of boiling some water,” said Anna.

Nikolas led the way to the bedrooms upstairs.

Alman waited for the Yellow Hoods to step in and remove their boots and coats before approaching. “I want to thank you, from the bottom of my heart. You have—”

“Thank you, but go,” Elly interrupted. “We know where you need to be.” Tee and Richy nodded in agreement.

Alman smiled with tears in his eyes. “I don’t know how to repay you all,” he said, and then he ran upstairs.

“I’ll see if there’s anything left for us to help with,” said Tee, following. A couple of minutes later, she came back down. “We should head home. Grandpapa said he’ll let us know when we can visit her. ”

Pierre came down the stairs behind her. “I’m heading out, too. I’ll make sure you get back to Minette safely,” he said. “You three made me proud. And, Richy, you have a keen eye and a trustworthy gut. That’s two lives you’ve saved, now.”

Richy smiled awkwardly.

Pierre gave each of the Yellow Hoods a rub on the head, and then headed out the door. “Come on! Nothing we can do in here except get in the way.”

“Do you think she’ll be okay?” asked Richy to Anna. She was heading for the stairs with a hot kettle.

“She will be fine,” said Anna, with fake empathy. She looked at Tee. “Nikolas learned a lot about medicine from your other grandfather. The girl is in good hands.”

Tee was surprised. “I didn’t know Granddad knew medicine?”

“Sam Baker may be a small man, but he is very knowledgeable. Now, off you go,” said Anna, ushering them out.

After the Yellow Hoods were on their way, Anna went upstairs. “Here’s the hot water you needed,” she said, handing the kettle carefully to Nikolas. “I’ll be on my way. I wasn’t planning on staying the entire day.”

“Understood,” said Nikolas. “Thank you for your assistance.”

Alman leapt off the bed where Mounira lay wrapped in fresh blankets. “Yes, thank you,” he said, shaking Anna’s hand, surprised at the strength and firmness of her grip.

Anna looked at the girl. “Your daughter looks like a fighter. She’ll make it,” said Anna flatly. “Good luck.” With that, she left.

Once the sheep bladders were refilled and placed between layers of blankets, Alman made himself comfortable beside his daughter. There was just enough room for two.

Nikolas thought back to how many scares he and Isabella had had with one or another of their children, of how many times they had lain with one of them, waiting and hoping for them to get better. Sometimes, Isabella would bring him paper, a quill, and ink—so he could sketch ideas while he lay there—but not once did he use them. He understood what Alman was going through. “I’ll be downstairs,” Nikolas said, and then left the room.

Alman kissed his daughter on the head, and fell asleep.

Hours later, Mounira awoke, confused and groggy. “Where am I?” she asked, waking her father. “Why can’t I move?”

Alman smiled and stretched. “It’s okay, Mouni. You’re safe. You were very cold. Anciano de Montagne and the Yellow Hoods found you. Anciano Klaus bundled you up and made sure your soul could warm up properly,” he said, stroking her cheek. 

“Baba, I feel so hot,” she said, yawning and looking around. “Can you take some blankets off?”

“Let me go and ask Anciano Klaus, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Mounira lazily looked around the simple bedroom. Oil lamps in the corners gave the room a warm glow. Sunlight peeked through the closed curtains, telling Mounira it might be late morning.

Alman returned with a smile. “He says it’s okay to unwrap you. We should also change the bandages on your feet, anyway,” he said, helping her out of the blankets.

“My feet are fine,” replied Mounira.

Alman’s face paled, and inside the terrible weight he carried got heavier. “Mouni, I must tell you… you burned your feet.”

Mounira shook her head. “No, they’re fine. They feel fine. Maybe they caught a little fire,” she said, annoyed. “You don’t trust me. Look, I’ll show you.” She unwrapped her bandaged feet, and only then realized how bad they looked.

Confused again, she looked to her father. The feisty girl who was just telling her father off now needed him. “But… but they don’t hurt, Baba.
Why
don’t they hurt?”

He cuddled her and rocked her gently. “You’ll be okay. You are tough inside, and you will be fine. Your feet need time to heal, that’s all. Okay?” he said, kissing the top of her head and smoothing her short hair.

Nikolas walked in with fresh bandages and placed them on the bed. “Let’s have a look at your feet, yes?” He bent down to examine them. “Can you feel this?” Nikolas touched the bottom of her foot.

“Yes,” said Mounira.

“Alright,” said Nikolas. He then pulled out a butter knife and poked her right foot a bit sharply. Mounira had no reaction.

“Nothing?” said Nikolas.

“I felt a pushing, but that’s all,” she replied.

“Interesting. You feel soft things only, yes?” asked Nikolas.