Dolly Bell's Arc

Chapter 1 of 8

Dolly Bell wanted to sing hope into every troubled village in Lorewood, but the roads between them belonged to bandits now. She stood on the porch of her pink and yellow cabin, listening to a farmer describe the last performer who tried. They robbed him blind on the open road. They took his coins, his fiddle, and his shoes. Dolly's dream needed a troupe, and a troupe needed roads. Right now the roads only led to trouble. She scratched behind her dog's ears while she thought. The farmer left, shaking his head. "Travel alone and you'll lose everything," he warned. Dolly watched him go. She had one costume, one stubborn heart, and no company yet. If she waited for safety, she would wait forever. Then the sky cracked. A wolf landed in the yard, wings folding against its back. Lightning ran through its dark fur and faded to a low hum. Dolly should have run. Instead she knelt and held out her open hand. The wolf sniffed it, then pushed its huge head into her palm like an old friend. "You've been out there too," she said softly. "Guarding the road, I bet." The wolf huffed. She noticed a torn strap tangled in its wing, the remains of some traveler's pack. She worked it loose with careful fingers. The wolf held still and let her. Dolly saw her chance clearly. No bandit would face a beast crackling with lightning. She fetched her cheerful pink saddlebag and packed it fast. Costume. Bread. A brush for her dog. She buckled the yellow straps and lifted the bag onto the wolf's broad back. The wolf did not shy away. It shifted its weight to balance the load. "Here's my plan," she told the wolf . "We travel as two”Anyone who hides on that road can hear you coming." The dog barked once, ready. The wolf spread its wings halfway, testing the air. They set out before doubt could stop her. On the road, the trouble came fast. Three men stepped from the brush, clubs in hand. Dolly's heart slammed. Then the wolf stepped forward and let its fur blaze white. Lightning snapped between the trees. The men dropped their clubs and ran without a word. Dolly laughed, shaky and bright. She had crossed the first stretch no lone performer dared. The road was open now, at least for her. But the wolf's display had lit the whole hillside. Doors opened in the next village before she arrived. People had seen the flash. When she walked in, they were not cheering. They were afraid. A woman clutched her child and pointed at the winged beast beside her. "Keep that monster away from us," the woman said. Dolly had beaten the bandits. Now the villages she came to save feared the very guardian that got her there.