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

We gaped at one another.

Tugging on his work gloves, Pierre

grabbed a rag and dunked it into a steaming pot of water. He squeezed it out, then used it to wipe most of the blood and grime from each bolt. He took them to a smelting pot at the opposite end of his work table, adding some kindling to heat a flame beneath it. Then he held the bolts over it, melting them slowly. After a full minute, I watched a single drip fall into the pot. I stepped aside to sit on a bench. This would take some time.

Beyond the furnace, the rear door of Pierre’s house opened. Monsieur Leóne came out, marching straight across the room. “Pierre, I need 234

you to finish those stokers for Monsieur Denue by Friday.”

Pierre turned on his heel to stand at attention. “Yes, sir.”

Monsieur Leóne studied his son a moment, then noticed me sitting quietly in the corner.

“Helena? What are you –?” He blinked hard at my legs.

I broke the silence. “I came to ask Pierre for some help. Something’s wrong with my bolts.”

He seemed to be struggling for words. I crossed my legs and tried to pull the outer edges of my cloak over them.

It didn’t help. He seemed just as perplexed, just as offended. “Helena …” He started to speak, wrinkled his brows some more, and shut his mouth. He tried again. “Helena, I – I’m so sorry for your loss. Your mother and Suzette, they were wonderful people.”

I stared back, feeling numb. “Thank you.”

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from my masculine garb. “Do you – need anything? Food or

– clothes?”

“No, thank you. I’m well taken care of.”

He forced his mouth to close. Then at last, he turned and walked away, but stopped to address his son. “Pierre, I need to pick up some more iron.

The miners finally broke through and found a rich supply, so we won’t run short again. I’ll return in two hours.” He glanced sideways at me, then turned back to Pierre. “Can you handle everything while I’m away?”

“Of course, Papa.”

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Monsieur Leóne gave a curt nod, blinked at me twice more, then left through the door to their home.

Pierre looked irritated. “First time he’s ever asked me if I can handle the shop by myself. I usually do when he’s away.”

“I don’t think he approves of my

wardrobe,” I said flatly.

Pierre shrugged. “Well – it’s a little different.”

I looked away, feeling even more isolated.

But I no longer cared what Monsieur Leóne thought of me. Or what anyone else thought.

Pierre studied the falling drips of metal.

“Nothing unusual so far. Regular iron, like we always use. Some lead, though, showing here. All right, so this one had some other metal mixed in.

But I can’t see how that would matter, when – wait

– all right, some copper. Traces of silver …”

Blood surged through my shoulders. As though I was meant to pay attention to that detail.

As though I had been given the answer.

Silver.

Francois said his ax blade was made of silver. His blade only grazed the wolf, but had killed it instantly.

“Try the other one,” I said.

He narrowed his eyes at me, confused. “I haven’t finished studying this one.”

“It’s enough. Melt the other one.”

He frowned, but set his tools and the first bolt aside. Within a few minutes, he found what I expected him to find.

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“– some lead in this one, too – Some traces of silver. Must have just poured everything in at once. Nothing else yet, but –.”

“It’s silver,” I said.

“What?”

“Silver. That’s what kills them.”

“Red, that makes no sense. A silver bolt couldn’t hurt a wolf any more than an ordinary bolt.”

“You should tell them that.”

“But how’s that possible?”

“I don’t know. But these bolts killed them, and so did Francois Revelier’s silver ax. Killed it easily, just like the two I shot last night. That must be the difference.”

“Red, silver isn’t any kind of poison.”

“It might be to them.”

He shrugged again. “All right. How can we know for sure?”

I sat rigid on the bench and stiffened my lip. “Only one way. I’ll have to start using silver bolts.”

“You’re going after them again?”

“Yes. But this time, I’ll be better armed.”

“Red, if you’re wrong, they’ll kill you!”

“They’ll kill us all, anyway,” I said hotly.

“That’s what no one seems willing to grasp.

They’re not