Dolly Bell's Arc

Chapter 8 of 8

The village behind her still hummed her song, but Dolly Bell knew the road ahead was quiet in a bad way. She broke camp before dawn. Rosie and Rosemary rolled the tent while she studied the ground. Their trail was plain as ink: paw prints, dragged tent poles, a line of trampled grass pointing straight to their next stop. Anyone could follow it. She thought of the axe she had glimpsed at the tree line last night. She thought of the wolf men who now knew her face. "They're waiting on the road," Dolly said. "They want us out in the open." Rosie tugged her pink dress straight and frowned. "So we don't go on the road." "We have to. It's the only way to the next village." Dolly knelt and pressed her hand to a deep print. "But a trail works both ways. They read ours. So we'll make them read a lie." Rosemary's shiny eyes went wide. "You want to trick a wolf." Dolly grinned. "I want to trick three." She laid out the plan fast. The kittens would drag an empty pack down the open road, loud and slow, leaving fat obvious tracks. She would circle wide through the trees with the storm wolf, silent, above the ambush. Bait and trap. She had done it before, but never with the leader watching. They moved. Rosie and Rosemary hauled the pack down the middle of the road, singing to draw ears. Dolly climbed the wooded slope beside the winged wolf. Lightning ran quiet under its fur. She kept one hand on its neck and watched the bend below. Garrick Razorfang stepped from the ferns first. Two wolf men flanked him, an axe across his back, a red scarf at his throat. He grinned at the two small figures on the road, the easy targets his scouts had promised. "Grab the kittens," he growled. "The girl won't leave them." He was right. That was the trap. As his men lunged for Rosie and Rosemary, Dolly stood on the slope above and sang one clear high note. The wolf launched. Wings snapped open. Lightning cracked down the road and lit the trees white. Thunder threw the two flanking bandits into the ferns. They scrambled up and ran, howling, gone into the woods without their leader. Garrick did not run. He planted his boots and swung the axe up at the diving wolf. The blade missed. A wing knocked him flat. Dolly slid down the bank and stood over him while the wolf pinned his chest. "You know my face," she said, breathing hard. "Now your men know mine and yours. They saw you fall. They won't follow an axe that lost to a song." Garrick snarled but stayed pinned. Dolly took his scarf and left him there in the dirt, disarmed and alone. She lifted the kittens and walked on. The ambush was broken. But Garrick Razorfang had seen exactly how her wolf fought, and now he would build a plan around it.