Page 59 of Little Red Riding Hood
Or perhaps after you threw yourself at him, he’s run a mile.
Another noise.
Red’s head whipped around, scanning the treeline. Nothing. Just shadows and more shadows, writhing like living things. The wine made everything blur at the edges, reality becoming soft and uncertain.
Was that movement? There—just beyond the fire’s reach? Red squinted, trying to focus his vision. The darkness seemed to pulse, to breathe. His fingers clutched at his red cloak, pulling it tighter around his shoulders.
Another sound—closer this time. A whisper of movement, like fabric dragging across leaves.
Was this a cruel trick of the Queen’s Shadow? To scare him into wetting his breeches before he laughed in Red’s face?
“Hello?” The word escaped before he could stop it, small and afraid in the vast darkness.
The forest swallowed his voice whole.
Red’s skin prickled. Even the familiar weight of his bow offered little comfort. His fingers trembled as he drew the cloak closer still, as if the fabric could shield him from whatever lurked in the darkness.
Pop!
Red nearly leapt out of his skin as the fire crackled. A laugh bubbled up in his throat—high and nervous—at his own jumpiness. But the sound died as quickly as it began when somethingdefinitelymoved in the shadows to his left.
Red’s breath caught. The darkness seemed to stretch, to reach for him with grasping fingers. His head spun, the wine making it impossible to tell what was real and what was imagination. He pressed himself back against the log, heart thundering in his chest.
Hurry back, Wim. Please hurry back.
A shape emerged from the shadows, moving towards the firelight. Red’s shoulders sagged with relief.
“Oh, thank—”
The words died in his throat. It wasn’t Wim.
Before Red could scream, a rough hand clamped over his mouth from behind. His arms were yanked backwards, twisted painfully as someone bound them with coarse rope. He thrashed against the iron grip, but the wine had dulled his reflexes, made his limbs clumsy and uncoordinated.
The figure stepped into the firelight.No!Red’s blood turned to ice as he recognised the scarred lip, the cold eyes of the merchant from the market—the one who’d struck that child before Wim intervened.
The merchant’s lips curved into an ugly smile. “You didn’t go far, did you?” He crouched down, bringing his face level with Red’s. “Now then, where’s that brute of yours?”
Red couldn’t answer, could barely breathe through the crushing pressure of the hand across his mouth. His chest heaved as panic clawed at his throat. The merchant’s belt housed a row of sharp knives that glinted as he moved.
The ropes bit into his wrists as Red struggled, the knots only tightening for his efforts.
Red’s teeth sank into the flesh of the man restraining him. The hand jerked away with a curse, and Red gasped in air.
“He’ll be back any second,” Red spat out. His words wavered more than he’d like, the wine still clouding his thoughts. “He’ll tear you to pieces.”
The merchant’s cruel smile never left his face as he said, “That’s why I brought friends.” He pressed two fingers to his lips and let out a piercing whistle.
Shadows detached themselves from the darkness. Numerous figures emerged into the firelight. Their clothes hung in tatters, faces dirty and weather-beaten.Bandits. Red’s stomach dropped.
“Found them just like I promised,” the merchant said to a burly man with an eyepatch who seemed to be the leader. “Your turn now.”
“Take everything!” The one-eyed bandit bellowed. The others descended like vultures upon their camp, ripping through their packs and supplies.
Red’s heart stopped as one of them snatched up his bow and quiver. The golden arrow—the Queen’s arrow meant for Old Oma—was hidden among the others. If they took it… his mission would be ruined. The Queen would have his head.
“Two gold pieces, as agreed,” the one-eyed leader said, pressing coins into the merchant’s palm. “For the tip-off about rich travellers.”
“Wasn’t easy tracking them through the forest,” the merchant mumbled, pocketing the money. “And that big one could snap a man’s neck without trying. I’d say all this was worth three, looking at it now.”
