Dolly Bell's Arc

Chapter 3 of 8

By the next village, Dolly had a plan. She would sing in the square and let the music open the doors her wolf could not. She stood on a low well and lifted her microphone. The crystals along the handle woke and glowed pink. Villagers drifted from their homes to listen. A boy clapped. An old man tapped his cane in time. Then a farmer pushed through the crowd, breathless. "You have to stop," he said. "The bandits came back. They watch for gatherings now. A big crowd like this pulls them straight to us." He gripped Dolly's sleeve. "Your song is ringing a dinner bell." Dolly's stomach dropped. She saw it at once. Every face she gathered was a face she put in danger. She could not lift a village by luring thieves to burn it. The cat-dragon pressed against her boots, wings twitching. Her wolf stood at the road's edge, lightning crawling over its fur, terrifying and loyal. And there was her answer. The fear that slammed doors could slam them on bandits too. "Everyone inside," Dolly called. "Bolt your shutters and stay there." The crowd scattered. She turned to the wolf. "Not hidden this time. I need you seen." She climbed the well again and sang. Loud, bright, on purpose. The crystals blazed. Her voice carried down the empty road like bait. She kept the doors shut but the sound wide open. Three bandits came. They rode in grinning, expecting a soft crowd. They found an empty square and one girl singing to a striped cat with wings. One drew a blade. "Where's your audience?" "Right here," Dolly said. The wolf dropped from the roof of the well-house. Lightning tore off its wings and lit the whole square white. The bandits' horses reared. Thunder cracked from folded wings snapping open. The men did not fight. They screamed, hauled their reins, and fled the way they came. The wolf did not chase. It landed, shook sparks from its fur, and huffed. Dolly slid down, knees shaking. Shutters creaked open. The old man with the cane stepped out first. He stared at the wolf, then at her. "You called them here on purpose," he said slowly. "To end it." "I called them to the beast, not to you," Dolly said. "He looks like a nightmare. Turns out that's useful." The old man laughed, shaky and real. Others followed him out. A child crept toward the cat-dragon and giggled when it chirped. For the first time, villagers walked toward the wolf instead of away. Dolly grinned, but her mind was already turning. Word would travel. The bandits knew her face now, her voice, her lightning-winged guardian. She had not scattered a band. She had made an enemy who would remember. Somewhere down the road, the ones who ran would tell the ones who hadn't. She had won this square and marked herself for the next.