Page 38 of The Wolf

All too soon, Scarlet reached the outside of the manor. This was where it got tricky.

She hardly dared to breathe as she crept through the gardens and toward the edge of the estate. She thanked her lucky stars that she had Jaq and Gus on her side to help her escape unseen, otherwise she was bound to have been noticed.

Her skin prickled when the line of trees on the edge of the estate were within touching distance—the sound of a twig snapping on her left caught Scarlet’s attention and she hid herself and the small boy into the shadow of a nearby tree.

They had been noticed. Scarlet had to hope she had not been identified.

With shaking hands, she gently hid the child in the undergrowth at the tree’s base, hoping against hope that, even if she were stopped, by some miracle she might save his life.

Scarlet released a pair of knives from her wrist sheaths and pulled up the dull brown hood of the cloak she had been wearing in place of her red one. Footsteps came once more from her left. She backed herself against the tree and got into a ready stance.

The second the wolf rounded the tree within arm’s reach, Scarlet slashed at him with one knife coated in her odorless knockout powder, then violently hit the back of his head with the second. His eyes back and he crashed to the ground at her feet, out cold. He hadn’t even seen her.

Relief overcame Scarlet. One obstacle down. Several to go.

She tucked away her blades and retrieved Moses, tucking his shaking body underneath her cloak as she raced through the woods toward the Fiergone border.

“Hurts,” he cried softly.

“I know, sweet boy. We’re almost there. You’re doing so great. You’re so brave,” she murmured as sweat dripped down her back. It was hard going, fleeing with Moses and her heavy bag toward the river city of Samiliere. For though the boy was underweight for his age—skin and bones—he was still a weight in her arms, and Scarlet was already tired from days of traveling. Her muscles burned and her lungs screamed, but she kept going.

Slowing for one second could mean death for them both.

By sundown she had finally reached the edge of her stepmother’s territory, where the rivers intersected between Betraz and Fiergone and formed a tributary that led to the sea.

There was one horrifying moment, just before they left the border, when Scarlet spied one of Texel’s groups of wolves prowling, looking for trouble, but Scarlet knew this land better than anyone. Some clever footwork, several hiding places and a small detour later, and she had made it to her destination: the Port of Samiliere.

Scarlet hated that place but today it was beautiful.

It was where Arwen ran her goods out through to the coast, but despite this Scarlet did have one loyal contact within the confines of the city. An escaped wolf who lived on a small ferry that moved between the fresh water port town of Samiliere and the city of Callmai that rested on the edge of the sea.

Dead on her feet, she skirted down a dilapidated dock to a dingy looking fishing boat. But it was all a ruse. Mills’ ferry was one of the nicest ships Scarlet had ever had the pleasure of riding in on the inside.

She hesitated on the dock and whistled three low notes, praying Mills was home and not drinking in the city.

The old wolf lumbered onto the deck and squinted at her. “Awfully late, ain’t it?”

“I need transport.”

He cocked his head and she opened her cloak, revealing Moses. Mills frowned but he waved her on board. She stepped onto the boat, managing not to stumble as the older wolf pulled a scratchy looking blanket from a chest. He tossed it to her.

“Lay down on the deck and cover yourself. We’ll be out of here soon enough.”

Scarlet did as he said, arranging Moses comfortably and covered them both. Her nerves were on edge as Mills untied his boat, whistling the entire time. The ferry began to move and she hardly dared to breathe as they left the Samiliere port.

“You can come out now.”

She pulled the rough blanket from her face and sat up slowly. Moses whined and she pulled him onto her lap and cocooned him in her cloak and the blanket. His eyelids fluttered but he fell asleep on her, mouth hanging open.

As she lifted her head, she noticed Mills watching her.

He pursed his lips. “Is this one yours?”

“No.” She looked down at Moses’ sweet flushed face. “But he’s my responsibility now.” Scarlet lifted her head and met Mills’ gaze. “Transporting us is dangerous.”

“Helping any refugees is dangerous, lass.”

“I stole this one from Old Mother.”

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