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

  Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Eorthe

  Chapter One - Coming Through

  Chapter Two - Of Wolves & Pigs

  Chapter Three - Huff and Puff

  Chapter Four - Packed Together

  Chapter Five - Went to Market

  Chapter Six - Tricky Prey

  Chapter Seven - What Big Ears

  Chapter Eight - What Sharp Teeth

  Chapter Nine - What Keen Eyes

  Chapter Ten - Licking Wounds

  Chapter Eleven - In Sheep's Clothing

  Chapter Twelve - Howling for Revenge

  Chapter Thirteen - Why, Come In, My Dear

  Chapter Fourteen - Of Hood and Wolf

  Chapter Fifteen - To the Ends of the Earth

  Chapter Sixteen - Tale of The Yellow Hoods

  Chapter Seventeen - Rise of the Hound

  Crumbled Plans

  Thank you

  About the Author

  Other Books in the Series

  The Wizard Killer

  The Man of Cloud 9

  Copyright © 2014 by Adam Dreece.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at [email protected].

  ADZO Publishing Inc.

  Calgary, Alberta, Canada

  www.adzopublishing.com

  Edited by: Chris W. Rea, Jennifer Zouak

  Printed in Canada, United States, and China

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Dreece, Adam, 1972-, author

  Along came a wolf / written by Adam Dreece.

  (The Yellow hoods ; bk. 1)

  Issued in print and electronic formats.

  ISBN 978-0-9881013-0-2 (pbk.).--ISBN 978-0-9881013-1-9 (epub)

  I. Title.

  PS8607.R39A84 2014

  jC813'.6

  C2014-901592-5

  C2014-901593-3

  4/12/16 35,248

  DEDICATION

  To my daughter, for her enthusiasm

  for the story, and

  encouragement to write it,

  To my sons, for keeping the

  little boy in me thriving,

  and

  To my wife, without whose

  anchoring force

  I’d be lost in the wind.

  EORTHE

  Cartographer: Driss of Zouak, 1793

  Created at the behest of the Council of Southern Kingdoms

  CHAPTER ONE

  Coming Through

  “Watch out!” yelled Tee.

  Her gleeful voice could barely be heard over the sounds of her wooden contraption crashing down the forested mountainside.

  A short distance away, Tee’s mother, Jennifer, looked up from her tomato garden. She wiped her forehead and looked at her husband, William. “What has your daughter gone and done now?” she said. Their daughter certainly kept life exciting.

  “She’s your daughter, too,” said William. He was a tall, thin man with light brown hair, and a beard. He quickly tossed aside his axe and started hunting around the side of their cabin for the tool he’d need.

  “Oh, William, love, I think she’s more yours in habits, if you ask me.”

  “Watch out!” Tee gleefully yelled again. She was rapidly approaching the clearing surrounding their log cabin home.

  Jennifer stood and looked in the direction of Tee’s voice. She couldn’t imagine how Tee was coming down the mountainside so fast. “Will—I’m worried she’s coming faster than usual.”

  “Faster than the time with the pony? Now where did I leave my—”

  “Somehow, yes. I’m wondering if she’s built something this time.” Jennifer furrowed her brow.

  “Humph—I can’t find it! Where is it?”

  Jennifer paused. “Oh! It’s hanging inside the front door. I put it there this morning. Sorry!”

  William darted to the door and grabbed his crossbow. “There we go! Do you have the bolt with the rope attached?”

  Jennifer tried to track where Tee was, using the swaying bushes and trees as indicators. “It should be in the quiver—the case thing… whatever you call it. Check by the spare saddles.”

  “Right! I was going to put them in the shed this morning. Why didn’t I put them in the shed?” William raced across the yard and grabbed the bolt he needed.

  Jennifer nervously moved from side to side. “Hurry up! I think you’ve got less than half a minute before she’s here.”

  William fought to untangle the rope, glancing up every few seconds.

  Suddenly, Tee popped into view. “Wheee! Hi Mom!” she said. Tee was clutching the steering wheel of her cart; a ripped bed sheet hung from its broken mast. Her yellow cloak flapped in the wind behind her.

  “Got it!” said William. He loaded his crossbow and aimed at Tee’s cart as she rocketed past.

  “Shoot already, Will!” said Jennifer, realizing their daughter might end up sailing right off the nearby cliff.

  William took a deep breath. Just as his daughter reached the end of the clearing, he pulled the trigger. After a moment, there came a wood-splintering crash, and then silence.

  Jennifer looked at her husband in horror. “Oh my—”

  William waved for her to stay calm. “Tee!” he called loudly. “Can you get yourself down?” he asked, trying to sound confident. Worry started to creep across his face.

  After an agonizing few seconds, there came some rustling sounds and Tee replied, “I think so, Dad. Give me a moment… Yeah! I’m okay.”

  Then, with practiced flare, Tee jumped into the clearing and yelled her trademark, “La-la!”

  Jennifer turned and looked at William with a mix of relief and frustration. “How many more years until I don’t have to worry about her?”

  “Forever and a day, my love,” said William, smiling. “Forever and a day.”

  Tee woke up to the familiar sound of the kettle whistling and the table being set. She sat up and yawned, unaware of the adventure that lay ahead.

  Her first attempt to join the family for breakfast was rebuffed. As usual, her mother informed her that she needed to brush her shoulder-length dark brown hair before sitting at the table. After huffing about it for a minute, Tee went to brush her hair.

  To her mother’s surprise, Tee had even dressed herself before returning. Looking ready for the day, Tee complained, “Why do you always make me brush my hair before breakfast?”

  Her mother got the scrambled eggs out of the cast-iron skillet, sat herself down, and turned to her daughter. “You know why. But, you won’t need to brush your hair anymore if—”

  “Really?” Tee interrupted.

  Pushing back her own dark curly hair, Jennifer continued, “if you find a magical way to make it unknot itself.”

  “Mo-omm! There’s no such thing as magic.” Tee plunked herself into a chair and looked at her da
d, expecting him to say something.

  Jennifer turned to her husband and smirked. “Am I being unreasonable, Will?”

  William looked at his wife, and then his daughter, each awaiting his involvement. Having learned his lesson from this type of situation before, he quickly put a piece of toast in his mouth and looked elsewhere. The conversation eventually moved on without his input.

  With the dishes collected and all signs of breakfast gone, Tee leapt for her yellow hooded cloak and backpack, both hanging by the door, when her dad stepped in the way.

  “Tee, before you vanish for the day, I need you to do something for me. I have something that needs to be delivered to Grandpapa. If you could help your mother while I …” William deliberately paused, anticipating Tee’s interruption.

  Tee jumped at the opportunity. Unleashing her huge brown eyes—her best weapons of influence—she asked, “Can I take it to him?”

  She loved visiting her mom’s father. Apart from being kind and patient, he was a marvelous inventor and loved explaining things to her. He also made the best cookies, and always seemed to have some ready as she walked in. When asked how he knew she was coming, he’d always smile and change the subject.

  William pretended to think over his daughter’s proposal. “Well… I was going to take it to his house while you helped your mother weed the garden and clean the house, but if you insist—”

  “I insist!” she yelled so loudly that she startled herself. She looked around for a package to deliver.

  William smiled. He loved his daughter dearly. For all the trouble she got into, there was never anything but good intentions.

  “Actually, it’s in the shed. There’s a set of plant pots. One is turned upside down—”

  “I know the one! It was turned over yesterday morning. I thought that was odd.” Tee raced off.

  “It’s a little red box!” yelled William, shaking his head. He was surprised she knew what he was talking about. It seemed impossible to hide anything from her.

  He snapped his fingers, having almost forgotten he was Tee’s father. “Remember,” he shouted, “to stay on the roads—and don’t talk to strangers!”

  “I will,” shouted a little voice from the distance.

  William looked at his wife as she came in carrying an armload of firewood. “I just passed a little yellow whirlwind. What was that about?” she asked.

  “The package that arrived yesterday for your father—Tee’s going to deliver it.”

  “Couldn’t he have picked it up this evening when he comes for dinner?” asked Jennifer.

  William looked out the front window. “No. I figure if there’s any trouble to come of it, it’ll come to us today. Best that she’s not here,” he answered.

  Jennifer frowned for a moment. “Do you think that’s safe?”

  William turned as if he saw something in the forest. “I just—I have a bad feeling. Hopefully this will keep her out of trouble.”

  Jennifer’s eyes took on a steely glint. She straightened up, her posture revealing a hint of the hidden warrior within. “Do you know what’s in that red box?”

  “No,” he replied, “but I have a good idea.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Of Wolves & Pigs

  Tee placed the little red box in her backpack, slipped the backpack over her shoulders, and then pulled her cloak over top. With her parcel secured, she proceeded to sing and dance down the road, as she usually did.

  She loved the smell of the forest, and the look of the red and yellow leaves everywhere. It was like a duel of colors, each fighting for supremacy.

  While autumn had just begun, the trees seemed a bit impatient to embrace winter. Every now and then, the morning seemed to whisper that winter wasn’t far away. Tee wondered what the rush was.

  “Hello. Well, what do we have here?” boomed a menacing, local-accented voice. Instinctively, Tee sprang into the bushes. After a quick look around, she realized the voice came from down the road.

  The voice belonged to a tall, rough-looking, unshaven man. He was about fifty yards down the trail with two bigger, rougher-looking men, one on each side. The trio had stopped a finely dressed man atop a brown and white horse.

  Tee moved through the bushes with practiced ease, until she could clearly see the three men. “The Cochon brothers,” she muttered to herself. She’d heard of the troublemakers and had been warned many times to avoid them. There were rumors they’d recently run some guys out of town.

  The stranger’s horse nervously moved back and forth, trying to get away from the brothers who flanked her. The rider was doing his best to keep her calm.

  “Let me pass,” said the rider in crisp, clear words.

  Tee immediately noticed his slight accent, and the way he held himself. By the way he was looking down at the ruffians, and how his words were clear and sharply pronounced, she guessed he was used to being around important people—perhaps even royalty. Her grandfather had taught her how to listen for such clues.

  She wondered if the rider was from one of the two capital cities of their small kingdom, or maybe even from one of the neighboring kingdoms to the east or south.

  “I have an urgent message to deliver. Remove yourselves!” he commanded, placing his hand atop the gold and silver hilt of his sword. A flintlock pistol was visible, tucked into his black belt.

  Tee shook her head. “Shouldn’t have said that,” she muttered to herself. “Now they’re going to want what you’ve got.”

  The two younger brothers looked to the eldest, who stood in front of the horse. “I’ll tell you what, messenger boy,” said the eldest Cochon. “For a small sum of money, I’ll deliver the message for you. Now what is it?”

  The rider closely examined the three brothers. “My name is Andre LeLoup. I am on official business. Out of my way!” he said indignantly. He seemed both relieved and disappointed that they didn’t recognize his name.

  “That’s a funny name for a horse—official business!” said the middle brother, known as Squeals. The three brothers laughed.

  “Right you are,” said the eldest. “Right you are. Now, I’m not an unreasonable man. Am I, Bore?”

  The youngest brother, Bore, was by far the largest. A wall of a man, he stood six feet, five inches tall. Like his brothers, his clothes were homemade, and badly. Worse yet, his boots were a patchwork, made by cutting up pairs of smaller boots and stitching them together.

  He shook his head in an exaggerated fashion and replied in a deep, dim-witted voice, “No, Bakon, nope.”

  Bore’s first name was actually Boris, but he had never been able to pronounce it properly. Everyone knew him as Bore. Unfortunately, it emphasized his pig-like looks. “My brother, he’s a nice man,” he added, giggling like a mischievous little boy.

  Meanwhile, in the bushes, Tee rifled through her backpack.

  Bakon studied the messenger up and down. “So, how about you come down for a little chat then, eh?” he asked.

  The messenger glared at the ruffians and started to reach for his pistol. “Now, I demand—”

  Bakon interrupted, “Oh, I’ve had enough of him. Bring him down, boys!”

  On command, the two Cochon brothers reached up and pulled the man down with ease, forcing him to his knees and holding him in place.

  Squeals slapped the horse’s side, yelling, “Get out of here!”

  Bakon looked at Squeals in disbelief as the horse ran away. “What did you do that for? We could have sold it! Or maybe the message was on it!”

  Squeals’ head slumped in submission. “Oh—sorry, Bakon. Wasn’t thinking.”

  Bore also shook his head. “No thinking, Squeals. No thinking,” he said, tapping the side of his head. Squeals gave Bore a look that put him in his place.

  Bakon quickly calmed himself down. “She won’t go far. Just… don’t do that next time.” He then turned to the messenger. “So, Monsieur …” he started, trying to remember the messenger’s name.

  The messenger glared up
from his forced kneeling position, his arms pinned by the two huge brothers. “My name is LeLoup. This is an insult! I will have you—”

  Bakon waved at the man to stop talking. “What is it you want out of this? Do you want to hand over the message? Or maybe you’d like to hand over your gold and the message? I couldn’t blame you if you wanted to do that, now, could I?”

  The two brothers nodded in agreement.

  “I’d like for you to drop dead!” spat LeLoup.

  Suddenly, Bakon fell over—flat on his face.

  Bore and Squeals looked at each other in a panic and screamed, “Aaah! Magic!” They ran off into the forest.

  Tee reloaded her slingshot and jumped out of the bushes. “La-la!” she yelled triumphantly. “Run away, little piggies!” She quickly scanned the forest for more trouble.

  Once she confirmed no one else was lurking, she lowered her slingshot and approached the messenger. He was angrily talking to himself.

  Tee pointed to the face-down elder Cochon brother and said, “He’ll be up in a minute. The stones I use only stun for a couple of minutes at most.”

  The messenger finished brushing himself off. He scrutinized Tee, in her yellow hooded cloak, white blouse, and light brown pants. He wrinkled his nose at how boyishly she dressed.

  “So, you are the one who knocked out the ruffian?” he asked.

  “Tee, Yellow Hood of the forest, at your service,” she replied, bowing. Andre shook his head slightly at her lack of a curtsey.

  “I am Andre LeLoup. A pleasure to meet you,” he said stiffly. “Thank you for your assistance. I thought I’d seen a flash of yellow in the distance. I didn’t realize it was a person. Never mind—you are my little savior, are you not?” He offered an appreciative smile. “But, if you don’t mind, I’d prefer to keep this between us. It won’t help my reputation for people to learn that I was helped by a little girl in a yellow hood.”