Red, The Wolf

Part 6: The Trap

Justin chuckled. "You want tooffer something to your partner over there? Well, I suppose she'searned it, considering how much help she was for us today. I don'tthink you would have made it out of that little village alive, if itweren't for her!" he pulled out the shank bone, still with agood-sized chunk of meat attached. "There you go, Rascal. Takeit to her."

Rascal held the bone gingerly in hismouth and trotted over to where Red lay. Just the smell of it madethe nausea worse. Partner! And she didn't even know what crimes hadbeen committed against the villagers, besides convincing them to giveup their priceless handiwork for mere trinkets and baubles. Her ownmoral dignity nearly won out, but the smell and the sight of thetender, dripping meat proved too much for the emptiness of herstomach. She was more wolf than woman at the moment, and the wolfbadly needed to feed. Red forced herself to swallow a few bites. Herhead swirled with a thousand penances she would owe Burch Garrityafter consuming one of his lambs--something she swore she would neverdo as long as she lived.

Justin finished his share of the meatand let Rascal have the rest of the carcass. He trudged over to Red,still laying on the tarp. Crouching down, he rubbed the side of herneck.

"I can't let you loose on themountain," he murmured. "People will wonder where thebandages came from." He tilted his head to the side. "Thevillagers knew you, and refused to risk hurting you--that means youmust be important to them. But why would a simple little village wantto protect a wild wolf?" He stroked his scruffy chin.

Red felt her eyelids drooping. As muchas she wanted to keep watch over Justin and Rascal, whatever thepeddler had smeared on her snout was dragging her intounconsciousness. She fought to keep awake, to listen to what Justinwas saying. She felt him wrap the tarp around her and lift her up. Hegrunted a little as he set her on a flat surface with a hollow thud.

The tarp fell away, and Red could seethat she was now in the bed of Justin's wagon. There was his pile ofmerchandise, covered with assorted blankets in the corner.

"There we go," Justinremarked. "Now you'll be out of harm's way during the night.I've decided to take you with us, Beauty--ha!" He chuckled tohimself. "There's a name for you! Rascal and his Beauty; you'reone of us now, and when we get down the mountain, I can find you areal apothecary to get that leg looked at." He nodded toward herlame foreleg. "That miracle lotion can do a lot of things, butsetting bones isn't one of them. Sleep well, Beauty!" He thumpedthe side of the wagon with his hand and ambled away.

Alone in the darkness, Red felt anotherrush of coolness wafting over her. Had the crimson-hood oil fadedalready? She opened up all her senses, called up her humanity hiddenbelow the surface, and concentrated all her energy on trying tochange form. A cry built within her, beginning deep in her gut andfilling every part of her until it rushed out of her mouth in a long,wailing howl. Red tilted her head back and bellowed at the sky, as ifto let the villagers back in Queston know: Your Guardian is introuble! Rescue her, for you are now defenseless!

"Beauty?"She saw the misshapen silhouette outside the wagon.

Red gave a smallwhine, and she heard Rascal's pathetic yelps under the baseboards.

Finally, Justin'sshadow shifted. "Never mind, Rascal; she's just scared andhurting, that's all. You'll both be fine in the morning."

Red let her headflop back onto her paws. Her body felt like someone had filled herskin with stones. She was losing her grasp on wakefulness. Each blinklasted longer than the one before it, and at last, her vigil endedand she succumbed to the black depths of slumber.

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Red awoke with a small jerk. She feltthe familiar ache of staying in one position for too long. She feltthe urge to sit up, wanted to stretch her arms, but somehow her bodydidn't respond like a normal human. She stared down a long snout at apair of paws. Well, no wonder; she wasn't a normal human just now.Her body ached at being in wolf form for too long. Until now, she hadnever had reason to be a wolf for more than a few hours. Why couldn'tshe change?

Awareness of her surroundings broughtback memories of the events that led her here. She lay in a wagonbed, severely wounded, at the mercy of an unscrupulous peddler andhis pet wolf. Red slowly rolled onto her belly and attempted tostand. She could hardly feel the wounds on her flank and side, buther shoulder still felt like it was on fire. She tried ignoring it byfocusing on her other senses.

Outside the wagon, the mountain laystill. She could hear the soft snores of man and wolf as theyslumbered blissfully. Red lifted her nose and sniffed.

She could sense a familiar odor risingfrom the pile of goods in the corner--the smell of Queston. Eachbreath brought back memories of the Town Square, of the faces sheregularly saw there, and the people whose lives she studied fromafar. Nostalgia mixed with curiosity, and Red hobbled over to thepile. Her probing nose connected with something hard and metallic.She heard it scrape loose, and when she backed up, something long,thin, and heavy tilted off the pile and rolled toward her.

Red clearly identified the item in theshaft of moonlight streaming into the wagon: a candlestick. She bentdown and sniffed again, giving the round base a lick for goodmeasure.

Not just any candlestick. DeborahGarrity's candlestick.

"Heirlooms from my mother'sfamily," she'd said.

Red's instinctsrose, and she took a corner of the blanket in her teeth and pulled.

Clunk. Anobject slightly wider than the candlestick fell down, and Red pawedat it to figure out what it was. A pewter goblet! Hadn't she seensomeone setting out those same goblets for the welcoming celebration?

Further inspectionyielded three of the goblets, the missing gold-plated platter, abrass kettle, and the other candlestick. Red stared at the haul, arighteous fury building in her chest.

Justinwasn't just a swindler--he was a thief! Surely this wasthe "side business" he mentioned: while he kept thevillagers occupied with bargaining and showing off his stock of "thelatest things", no doubt Rascal would be the one to trot aroundin the background, nipping things here and there, like the littlegirl's doll. The fact that she had torn around town after the whitewolf and caused such a ruckus only provided yet another type ofdiversion, allowing the shyster himself to pilfer items whileeveryone's back was turned.

Red's lips curled,exposing her fangs, but she dared not growl, lest the sound awakenthe sleepers outside. Now it was more than a personal preference thatshe should be human; it was her moral duty to hold this manaccountable--and she couldn't do that in wolf form! Even if she didmanage to escape and run back to the town, no doubt Justin had beenengaging in this scheme for so long, he could easily talk his way outof culpability, with none to refute him!

Red vented herfrustration by ripping the tarp into shreds with her teeth and claws.She lay down again in the wagon bed. She had no choice but to waituntil she could either find a way to escape him, or figure out whatwas keeping her from changing into a human--or the entire village ofQueston would remain vulnerable, and she would be doomed to be a wolffor the rest of her life.

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