Red Rider RIsing: Book 2 of the Red Rider Saga by D.A. Randall (ebook e reader .txt) 📕

was gone. Can’t believe it wandered this far so quickly.” He swiped at thin strands of hair falling over his face, the same way Pierre often did. “Just glad I could do something to help.”

Papa squatted and brushed some brambles off the sheep’s wool. “Looks like it fell down a hill or two. Good thing it found plenty of grass to nibble on here, before it rolled into the ravine. Sit down. We’ll head back in a minute.”

We sat in the grass, chewing on jerky and biscuits and enjoying the fresh air and billowing clouds. I spotted a distant path around the left side of the mountain, far ahead. I stood and walked toward it as Valiant scampered after me, yapping.

Papa stood and almost choked on his biscuit. “Helena! Come back from the cliff!”

“I’m not near the edge. Look, there’s a road down here.” Someone had built a path around the side of the mountain. It sloped down and gradually worked its way back up to join the broad dirt path leading to the bridge and out of the province.

“I said, come back,” Papa repeated.

I stuck my fists on my hips. “Papa, I can take care of myself. Don’t you remember I’m eight now?”

“You’ve been eight for a week,” he said.

He finished chewing and climbed back onto Royale. “And we’ve stayed long enough already.

Let’s head home before it gets dark.”

56

My heart sank. I knelt to scratch Valiant behind the ears. “Papa, it’s a beautiful day. Can’t we ride a little farther?”

“I let you come along because you wanted to help and you wanted to see Pierre, and I figured it’s just as well to know where you are. We’ve had a nice rest, but it’s time to get back home. Come along.” He nudged Royale’s flanks and started a quick trot up the hill. Monsieur Leóne followed suit with Ruby.

“Sorry, Red,” Pierre said.

“It’s so pretty here.” I stared out at the endless mountain range beyond the bridge, shrouded in fog and mystery. I didn’t mind the moist chill on my shoulders, if it meant being free to roam outside, beyond our meadow, even for a little while. I found myself staring through the haze at the bridge leading out of La Rue Sauvage. It lay just beyond the wide green plateau that stretched away on both sides and ended in two points, resembling a large sleeping crocodile.

Pierre mounted Diamond and bent to offer his hand. I took it and climbed up behind him. We turned slowly from the inviting scene. Pierre took his time leaving, knowing how much I wanted to stay. He was giving me every second he could.

“Come on, Pierre,” Papa called from the crest of the hill. “I thought you said that horse was fast.” There was humor in his voice. I couldn’t remember the last time he sounded happy.

“The fastest,” Pierre called back.

“Well, prove it! We need to get the sheep settled so we can make it to the banquet.”

57

“Hey, look at that,” Pierre said, inspired.

“What?”

“There’s a hole down on this end, too.”

I looked where he was pointing as Valiant started barking and growling at it. Behind a boulder at our far right, close to the edge, another enormous hole had been dug through the side of the hill, nearly big enough to fit a wagon. “It’s a tunnel.”

“Yeah. Leading straight up to the top.”

I smiled. “You’re so smart, Pierre.”

“Hang on.”

He spurred Diamond toward the hole.

Diamond snorted and kicked up dirt as Valiant barked and chased after us. I clung tighter to Pierre while Papa and Monsieur Leóne gaped, before breaking into a gallop after us. It must have looked like we were headed over the cliff. Valiant stopped short near the dark passage and fell back, to race up the hill instead.

We curved around the boulder and Papa’s frantic image vanished as we descended into the tunnel’s black mouth. The swallowing darkness and cold frightened me for a moment, but I pressed close against Pierre. My eyes adjusted quickly, as light bled in from the other end of the tunnel and from small holes dug