Along Came a Wolf (The Yellow Hoods, #1): Steampunk meets Fairy Tale (6 page)

Elly was concerned Richy might pass out if she didn’t do something; he’d passed out once before. She looked at Richy and said slowly and sincerely, while stroking his tousled hair, “Richy, we need you. I need you.”

Richy started to calm down. “But… we’re just
kids
.”

For a moment, Elly felt like that simply stated truth might erase her own courage. “No, Richy—we’re not. We
were
kids. 

“Just think of that game we always play. The one where we pretend someone is chasing one of us, and the rest of us must come to the rescue.” 

Finished with her first stick, Elly started cranking the second, while keeping her brown eyes locked on Richy.

“Um… okay.” Richy seemed to be accepting the idea.

“Your
mission,
Richy, is to find some town guards. Bring them to Tee’s grandfather’s house, okay? We’re going to save her. You’re going to be a hero. We’ve done this a million times before.”

Richy took a breath and nodded. “I know, but—” he said, starting to panic again.

“We’ll be okay. I promise.” Elly gave him a light-hearted wink and smile. She wished she felt as confident as she sounded.

With a final sigh, Richy said, “Okay—get help. Go to Tee’s grandfather’s house. Got it. Wait… why
his
house?”

“Because when Tee’s the one playing the hunted kid, that’s where she pretends to go.” Elly then deftly placed both charged shock-sticks into her homemade yellow cloak’s special pockets and then flipped up her hood. 

“This’ll all work out. I promised, remember?” said Elly. She dashed out of the treehouse, grabbed the wooden handlebar of the pulley system, and started flying down the mountain.

Richy nodded to reassure himself. “I can do this. Elly’s going to distract the horsemen and not get killed. 

“Everyone is going to be fine,” he repeated to himself before finally racing off at top speed in search of the town guards.

Tee stumbled as she stepped away from the second-to-last pulley leading up the mountain. She was exhausted and starting to worry she wasn’t going to make it. Even if she did, she didn’t know what she’d do when she got there.

LeLoup’s three horsemen were having some trouble getting up the steep mountainside, but they were slowly gaining on her. They had fired their flintlock pistols in hopes of scaring Tee into stopping—and she almost had.

Tee tripped and fell. She lay there, unable to find the energy to get up again, until she heard the familiar zipping sounds of pulley, weights, and ropes. 

“Lala! Lala!” came a heart-warming yell from Elly.

Tee picked herself up. Her eyes welled up as she saw Elly flying down toward her, in her own yellow hooded cloak.

Elly landed and with a quick look and nod, and Tee instinctively knew what Elly had in mind. While Elly was shorter than Tee by a couple of inches, and had fairer hair, both expected the horsemen wouldn’t notice the difference.

“Richy’s gone for help. Go to your grandfather’s house,” said Elly quickly and decisively.

As she started to head out, Tee grabbed her. “Use my cloak. They might realize the color’s not quite the same.” She handed Elly her cloak, keeping hold of her slingshot. Elly slipped her sticks into Tee’s cloak and then pulled it on. 

Elly then set off down the mountain at top speed. As she approached the first horseman, she pulled out one of her sticks, pressed its activation button, and threw the stick at him.

Sparks flew as the stick connected with the rider. He flailed and fell off his horse. Elly’s second stick missed the next rider. As she passed the two remaining horsemen, they turned to pursue her. 

They took the bait
, thought Tee. She lay on the ground, breathing heavily. She knew she had about two minutes before the pulley system reset.

Tee imagined for a moment that the treehouse and its incredible pulley system had been the work of mysterious little elves. It was a ridiculous idea, but that silly, little-kid thought made her feel better.

Then, with a familiar wooden clonk, Tee knew the pulley system was ready. She sprang up and headed back down the mountain.

The Cochon brothers tried to keep up with Nikolas as he moved through the thick forest with renewed energy and drive. He had abandoned his old-man demeanor. For a man in his late-fifties, he actually could put most of the town guards to shame.

All of a sudden, Nikolas stopped and put a finger to his lips. “Do you hear that?” he whispered.

The brothers listened for a moment.

Squeals shook his head.

Bakon and Bore looked around.

“Wait—I hear something,” whispered Squeals.

Nikolas looked up to the trees. “One of the pulleys! Someone’s coming down—and fast.”

The brothers looked at each other, confused. They looked up and around, but couldn’t see anything.

Then something zipped by overhead. “Big yellow bird!” yelled Bore, pointing.

“That’s no bird—that’s a yellow-cloaked kid. Get the kid, Bore!” commanded Bakon.

Bore tore off into the forest, with his eyes narrowed and his head down.

Nikolas appeared startled at Bore’s sprint. The brothers smiled knowingly.

Bakon chuckled. “He’ll get her, no worries about it,” he said, slapping Nikolas on the shoulder. “That brother never fails.”

A minute later, following the tunnel of broken branches and bushes that Bore had left in his wake, they found him singing and dancing around with Tee on his shoulders. She was singing along, enjoying the ride. Bore looked surprised to see them, having been lost in the moment.

Tee acrobatically leapt off Bore’s shoulders, landing expertly. “La-la!” she exclaimed triumphantly. 

Nikolas smiled in relief. “Tee! I’m so happy you’re okay. But I am surprised. You were not frightened by my big friend?”

Tee shrugged. “I guess there are parts of your life I don’t know.” She turned to look at Bakon. “Um—sorry for hitting you with my slingshot. I… ah— sorry,” she finished awkwardly.

Bakon smiled in response. “Ah, so it
was
you. That explains it. One day we’ll talk about it, but not now.”

“Also, Grandpapa, Bore didn’t give me enough time to be scared. Before I knew it, he picked me up onto his shoulders and started singing
Mister Nik is going to be so happy
. I joined in, and he started dancing.”

Something caught Nikolas’ eye. He examined Tee’s cloak. “This isn’t yours?”

Tee suddenly remembered. “Elly!”

Andre LeLoup was frustrated. When his men had gone after Klaus and his granddaughter, he had returned to the house to search for the steam engine plans.

Simon St. Malo had told him to expect to find the plans in a long brass tube or on one of the worktables. He’d figured they should be easy to find. That hadn’t been the case.

LeLoup kicked over a pile of books. “This place is such a mess! How does he find anything here?” He tried angrily to overturn one of the worktables, only to discover it was bolted down.

After calming down, he rummaged through every cabinet, every drawer, and examined every scrap of paper he could find. He stared angrily at the stupid little red box on the floor in the middle of the mess. He wanted to stomp it flat.

Not only had he found nothing regarding a steam engine, he hadn’t found anything that could serve as a potential substitute to appease St. Malo.

He started to wonder if this guy really was the famous, inventive genius behind the Tub? Maybe he was a fraud? Klaus’ life seemed too simple and mundane. To LeLoup, it was almost offensive.

He decided he needed a break—to make a cup of tea, and reflect. At least he could appreciate Klaus’ selection of tea. After making a cup, he sat down and gazed around the small kitchen. It was so…
common
that it was almost painful to look at.

LeLoup was one of the whispered names in the western kingdoms. He was known to get you what you wanted—whether a message delivered, or an item acquired. He avoided assassination work; it lacked a certain amount of class, in his opinion.

He wasn’t yet the most infamous ‘messenger’ in the profession, but he wanted to be. He had only ever failed once, and though it had happened very early in his twenty-year career, it still haunted him. If he didn’t return with what St. Malo had asked for, or better, his career would be over.

Simon St. Malo had offered him three times his usual fee—a great amount of money—to get some drawings from an old man. That amount had made Andre suspicious, so he had done some research on Klaus and St. Malo. He’d learned about a rivalry that stretched back decades. St. Malo seemed to make it his business to take and twist whatever Klaus invented. Though St. Malo was also an inventor, he was nothing compared to Klaus. In fact, St. Malo seemed to be insanely jealous of the man’s pure genius.

LeLoup picked up and played with the long shocking rod, but couldn’t get it to work. He cast it aside, deciding it was not worth bringing to St. Malo. How could it possibly compare with something called a
steam engine
? St. Malo had made it clear: The steam engine would radically change the movement of people, soldiers, and weapons. A
stick
wasn’t going to satisfy him.

Andre’s eyes wandered up to the kitchen ceiling. He appreciated quality woodworking, and noticed the intricate crown molding. The five-inch tall strip of wood had the most detailed set of engraved symbols and shapes he’d ever seen.

As Andre relaxed, he started to wonder if it wasn’t just for decoration. He slowly got up and toured the other rooms. As he exited each room, he became more and more convinced that the kitchen’s moldings were indeed out of place.

“You, my curious woodwork, are only in here. Why is that? I’m certain Klaus likes to sit here, as I do, sipping his tea. Which means—you must be hiding a story. Are you related to the plans, I wonder? Maybe something better?” he pondered aloud.

Andre stood up on a chair to get a better view. “What are you trying to say, hmm? My ears can almost hear your story. My nose can smell the importance. But, I can’t see you properly, my curious woodwork. There isn’t enough light,” he said. 

He paused for a moment, letting a thought from the depths of his mind bubble up. “Enough light,” he muttered to himself.

He hopped off the chair and went back to the entrance of the home. He looked at the stairs leading from the entranceway landing up to the kitchen, and the walls on either side. Something didn’t seem quite right.

Opening the front door, he looked again at the stairs and the walls on either side. Picking up a shoe, he threw it to the left of the stairs and watched it bounce off the wall. Then he threw a shoe to the right of it, and watched it go through what looked like a wall and land on an unseen floor below. The house was a split-level.

“Ah—a
trompe-l’oeil
,” he said, smiling from ear to ear. “Smart, Klaus. An illusion painted so perfectly, you can’t see the stairs that go down. You didn’t account for the lighting at this exact time of day, did you? No—how could even you account for everything?” said LeLoup, feeling superior for the first time in a while.

He carefully went down the hidden stairs, through a short corridor, and came to a closed door with light pouring out from under it. He opened the door and stepped into a large room.