BreadCrumb Trail (The Yellow Hoods, #2): Steampunk meets Fairy Tale by Adam Dreece
Authors: Adam Dreece
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Cleeves. “Arthur, would you be so kind as to bring us some fresh tea, and whatever fresh bits you can scrounge up?”
Arthur Cleeves bowed and smiled. “For you, Lord Pieman, anything.”
The man then turned to the Hound. “My name is Marcus Pieman. Please, call me Marcus. We have much to discuss and, unfortunately, very little time. I have a mission for you already.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Makings of a Hood
The strong winter wind propelled the sail-carts through the Red Forest. Pierre held on tightly to the ropes tied to the sail-carts as they pulled him along on his skis.
It was well past noon and they’d been searching for hours. They had found the beginning of a trail near a burned-down old building, but just beyond the protective circle of trees it had disappeared. They only had an idea of the direction someone had taken—and they hoped it was Mounira.
“Okay—let’s split up and do a final look around. We won’t have enough light to get back if we go any further,” said Pierre, letting go of the ropes. He grabbed the poles off his back and skied around. The Yellow Hoods split off in different directions to have a look around.
Ten minutes later, just as Pierre was about to call everyone in, Richy yelled, “Wait, I think I saw something!” He pulled down the telescoping mast and sail and hopped out of his sail-cart.
Elly, Tee, and Pierre quickly made their way to Richy.
Richy dashed through the knee-high snow to a little stone alcove under a great golden oak tree. It was nearly perfectly hidden under the tree’s enormous, powerful roots. A last, desperate flicker of something had caught Richy’s eagle eyes.
“That’s the biggest golden oak I’ve ever seen,” said Pierre, marveling at it as he skied over.
“How did you see that, Richy? It took me a few seconds looking straight at it to see the hiding spot underneath,” said Tee, climbing out of her sail-cart.
Richy was too focused on getting to the alcove to hear her.
Pierre planted his poles and removed his skis. “How did she manage to find this?” he said to himself. “This has to be hundreds of yards from the burned building. Unbelievable.”
“I hope it’s her,” said Elly.
Pierre nodded, realizing he was jumping to conclusions.
Richy climbed into the small alcove and saw a kid, all curled up. He took his mitts off and placed his hand over the remains of a fire. “It’s still warm!”
“Give me some room,” said Pierre. Richy climbed out and Pierre got his upper body into it. “This is a small space indeed.” He pulled off his mitts, rubbed his hands together to warm them up a bit, and then placed them on the girl’s neck.
“I can feel her soul moving in there, but slowly,” he said as he felt the slow thump, thump, thump of her blood pumping. “Tee, get the fresh blankets ready for bundling her up. Elly, get the sheep bladders. Richy, get the sled ready… I still can’t believe she found this special place,” said Pierre.
“Blankets are ready!” said Elly, from behind him.
“The water bladders are still very warm,” said Tee.
“That grandfather of yours is amazing, coming up with a way to keep them warm this long. I was certain you were going to tell me they were ice cold,” said Pierre, while trying to figure out how to pick up the girl. “I think this is the right girl. She’s got that southerner’s skin color and looks young enough.”
Elly let out a sigh of relief.
“What’s special about here, by the way?” asked Richy.
“There are a handful of places like these in these forests. Legends have it that people, long ago, planted the first golden oaks on huge rocks like this so that in a blizzard, they would be able to find shelter under them—just like this girl did. There’s always some dry brush in its nooks and crannies. I can’t imagine how she found it,” said Pierre as he slowly removed Mounira from the alcove, trying to keep the once-tied blanket around her. Slipping for a
Arthur Cleeves bowed and smiled. “For you, Lord Pieman, anything.”
The man then turned to the Hound. “My name is Marcus Pieman. Please, call me Marcus. We have much to discuss and, unfortunately, very little time. I have a mission for you already.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Makings of a Hood
The strong winter wind propelled the sail-carts through the Red Forest. Pierre held on tightly to the ropes tied to the sail-carts as they pulled him along on his skis.
It was well past noon and they’d been searching for hours. They had found the beginning of a trail near a burned-down old building, but just beyond the protective circle of trees it had disappeared. They only had an idea of the direction someone had taken—and they hoped it was Mounira.
“Okay—let’s split up and do a final look around. We won’t have enough light to get back if we go any further,” said Pierre, letting go of the ropes. He grabbed the poles off his back and skied around. The Yellow Hoods split off in different directions to have a look around.
Ten minutes later, just as Pierre was about to call everyone in, Richy yelled, “Wait, I think I saw something!” He pulled down the telescoping mast and sail and hopped out of his sail-cart.
Elly, Tee, and Pierre quickly made their way to Richy.
Richy dashed through the knee-high snow to a little stone alcove under a great golden oak tree. It was nearly perfectly hidden under the tree’s enormous, powerful roots. A last, desperate flicker of something had caught Richy’s eagle eyes.
“That’s the biggest golden oak I’ve ever seen,” said Pierre, marveling at it as he skied over.
“How did you see that, Richy? It took me a few seconds looking straight at it to see the hiding spot underneath,” said Tee, climbing out of her sail-cart.
Richy was too focused on getting to the alcove to hear her.
Pierre planted his poles and removed his skis. “How did she manage to find this?” he said to himself. “This has to be hundreds of yards from the burned building. Unbelievable.”
“I hope it’s her,” said Elly.
Pierre nodded, realizing he was jumping to conclusions.
Richy climbed into the small alcove and saw a kid, all curled up. He took his mitts off and placed his hand over the remains of a fire. “It’s still warm!”
“Give me some room,” said Pierre. Richy climbed out and Pierre got his upper body into it. “This is a small space indeed.” He pulled off his mitts, rubbed his hands together to warm them up a bit, and then placed them on the girl’s neck.
“I can feel her soul moving in there, but slowly,” he said as he felt the slow thump, thump, thump of her blood pumping. “Tee, get the fresh blankets ready for bundling her up. Elly, get the sheep bladders. Richy, get the sled ready… I still can’t believe she found this special place,” said Pierre.
“Blankets are ready!” said Elly, from behind him.
“The water bladders are still very warm,” said Tee.
“That grandfather of yours is amazing, coming up with a way to keep them warm this long. I was certain you were going to tell me they were ice cold,” said Pierre, while trying to figure out how to pick up the girl. “I think this is the right girl. She’s got that southerner’s skin color and looks young enough.”
Elly let out a sigh of relief.
“What’s special about here, by the way?” asked Richy.
“There are a handful of places like these in these forests. Legends have it that people, long ago, planted the first golden oaks on huge rocks like this so that in a blizzard, they would be able to find shelter under them—just like this girl did. There’s always some dry brush in its nooks and crannies. I can’t imagine how she found it,” said Pierre as he slowly removed Mounira from the alcove, trying to keep the once-tied blanket around her. Slipping for a
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