Page 38 of The Howling
A face framed with wild hair which looks like he has wolf ears. I find myself wondering if running my hands through it would feel as soft as the fur in his Barghest form.
“I can…take you to the seamstress in the village.”
“You can?” I don’t even try to hide my excitement.
I’ve seen nothing of the Yeavering save for the inside of Lord Guyzance’s fortress. I knew there was a thriving town attached to it as I could hear the market some days, but the chances of me being let loose outside were zero to none.
And now I have these four walls, although admittedly the view is better…
“Wait, there’s a village? I didn’t see it.”
“It’s in the valley behind the castle,” Reavely says. “I have a tunnel.”
I feel my skin prickling. “A tunnel.”
“To get to the village. It’s how I got the healer.”
“Why do you have a tunnel to the village? Doesn’t that scare them?” I ask.
“It was made before I became…what I am,” Reavely rasps. “And it was used to supply my family with what they needed, while they could provide protection in return.”
Which seems like a sensible solution to a castle high on a hill and a village tucked into the valley. It seems, once, Reavely had something good. Rather than having to dance to the Reaper’s tune.
“Come,” he says, lifting me into his arms.
“Hey, I can walk!” I exclaim as I’m hoisted from my feet, my covering flapping.
“Parts of the tunnel are flooded, little deer. I do not wish for you to get wet.”
And just like that, the Barghest, the feared black dog of death, turns into a gentleman once again.
WYNTER
Reavely wasn’t kidding. The tunnel started off damp and has become wetter the further we’ve gone down it. He’s presently up to his knees in the dark water.
The passage is lit by flaming torches, which pass so close to his head I fear for his fur. But it seems Reavely knows this way well as he doesn’t flinch, simply continuing his steady wading onwards.
“Why is it so wet down here?”
“We’re under the river,” he says, his voice booming down the tunnel walls.
“What?” I do an involuntary shiver.
“The old myths said werewolves couldn’t cross water, and this tunnel is supposed to be our way of circumventing that rule.”
“I thought it was vampires which couldn’t cross running water,” I say. “Not werewolves.”
Reavely fixes me with a puzzled look. “What’s a vampire?” he asks.
“It’s a…” I debate how he might react to being told about monsters which don’t exist. “It doesn’t matter. It’s a story told beyond the veil.”
Reavely snorts. “A place you want to go back to.”
“If it means being safe from Lord Guyzance, then yes, I do want to go back,” I say with my own huff of breath.
“I will keep you safe from Faerie lords,” Reavely growls. “Here in the Yeavering.”
“And who’s going to keep you safe from him? You were a captive in his dungeons if I recall correctly.”
