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

red cloak around myself and pulled the blankets up as Pierre returned to the ladder. I sat up. “Pierre?”

His head poked up through the square opening.

“Thank you,” I said.

He smiled and gave a nod, then descended through the hole.I blew out the candle and the room sank into darkness.

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16.

Where are you going, little girl?

I saw myself walking through the woods and tensed. The same woods I traveled as a child. I was on my way to Grand’Mere Marie’s house again, carrying a basket of bread and cheese. But I was myself, sixteen years old.

I knew I was having a nightmare, but I couldn’t wake up.

“Where are you going, little girl?” a gruff voice repeated from the forest.

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I peered through black trees, thick as a fortress gate. A pair of low eyes studied me. The creature came slowly between the trunks, a thick shadow of black fur and pointed ears. Eyes shone from the shadow, a pale bluish-gray. The large wolf came into view, still lingering behind a few trees. I stepped backward, my heart racing.

“Don’t be afraid,” it said.

“… You’re a wolf.”

The shadow nodded. It seemed to grin.

“Wolves don’t talk.” I clutched the basket to my chest and took another step back. As if I could disappear within the folds of my cloak.

“I do,” it said. “Where are you going, little girl?”

A chilling breeze tickled my cheeks. My voice was barely a breath. “To my Grand’Mere’s house.”

“And where does she live?”

“… just over the hill, past the three oaks.”

My eyes locked on the furry shadow as my fingers locked around the basket’s handle. “I’ve never seen a wolf like you.”

“No?” Its voice was sheer mockery.

I shook my head. I wanted to run, to scream. But my legs stiffened in place like a terrified fawn. The wolf stood taller than me, as it had appeared when I was only seven. Its head was half the size of my body. “You have – such big eyes. And ears. And such big teeth.”

His fangs spread with pleasure. “The better to see and hear you with, Mademoiselle.”

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I heard my breath flowing in and out. In and out. “… And your teeth?”

It leaned toward me. It kept leaning in as it padded closer, closer. “The better to eat you!”

I clutched the basket and raised it to protect my face. To hide my eyes from its open, dripping mouth.

A sharp crack sounded over the hill. It was Grand’Mere’s neighbor, Francois, splitting wood with his ax. He would hear if I screamed.

The wolf regarded me casually. “We’ll meet again, Mademoiselle. Soon. But keep silent about our first meeting.” It raised its paw to its pursed lips, as if signaling me to be quiet. The way a human would. “Now run to your Grand’Mere’s.

Before she starts to worry.”

The wolf turned and loped away. Beyond it, the eyes of six other wolves shone in the distance. Watching and waiting. I backed away carefully as they remained in their positions like sentinels.

I hurried off through the trees. As I ran, I noticed the first wolf nearby, keeping pace with me. Its enormous black figure loped gently at first.

Then it bounded through the woods, leaving me far behind.

It was headed to Grand’Mere’s. I gasped and ran harder.

About ten minutes later, I finally reached her cottage and threw open the door. Inside, on Grand’Mere’s bed, the wolf circled about her sheets and nightgown, smeared with her blood. It turned toward me and smiled.

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It jumped down from the bed, padding toward me. I had rushed too far into the cottage to retreat in time. I ran behind Grand’Mere’s rocking chair to shield myself. The black wolf stood on its hind legs and knocked the chair aside like a toy. It loomed over me, eyes shining, and spread its claws.

I jumped back from it. Its claws still connected, cutting into the tender flesh of my forehead and cheeks. I spun and fell back. My own blood flew about my head. Then it dripped into a scarlet pool on Grand’Mere’s wooden floor where I fell. The open wound burned like fire. I screamed but I