Red Riding Hood by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780316176248
Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers
Published: 2011-01-25T05:00:00+00:00

When everyone who could fit had filed in, Solomon held out a silver, gem-encrusted sword bearing an engraved image of Christ on the cross.

Seeing it, Father Auguste’s eyes lit up. “This…” He steadied himself. “This is one of only three silver swords blessed by the Holy See. May I touch—?”

Solomon cast him a reproachful look.

Father Auguste stepped back, chastened.

“This is a very dangerous time,” Solomon told the people of Daggorhorn, who were held in thrall. Claude lay on his stomach in the rafters, overlooking the scene. Valerie smiled up at him briefly from where she stood, packed in, barely able to see. She wished she had thought to climb up there.

“Of course, you know what the blood moon means.”

Didn’t they? Everyone looked around for someone older to speak up.

“I see you have no idea what it means.” His lips were tight.

The villagers felt their cheeks flush hot with embarrassment; they didn’t like that.

“The orrery.” Solomon held out his hand. It was all he had to do.

The Captain set onto the table a brass instrument fitted with round glass bulbs.

“The Persians invented it, but this one I made myself. Every little gear,” he said, twirling a globe with one gentle finger, adjusting the position of another. He lit a candle, casting the model in a scarlet glow. “See, the red planet converges with the moon once every thirteen years. This is the only time a new werewolf can be created.” With a snap of his wrist, the bulb exploded. They blinked at the sound.

Solomon smiled that tight little grin of his.

“During the week of the blood moon, the werewolf may pass his curse on with a single bite. Even in daytime—”

“Pardon me, but you’re wrong.” The Reeve looked pleased. “Sunlight makes a werewolf human—”

“No, it is you who are wrong,” Solomon said, meeting the glares of the men who’d risked their lives in the caves. Father Auguste’s eyes shone.

The Reeve shifted his stance.

“A werewolf is never truly human no matter how it appears. During a normal full moon, a Wolf bite will kill you. But during the days of the blood moon, your very souls are in danger.”

The room chilled.

“For how long, exactly?”

“Four days.”

Two nights are left, Valerie thought. Tomorrow will be the final day.

“As I’ve said,” the Reeve interjected authoritatively, smiling, his jowlish cheeks pulling out to either side, “none of this matters. We’re safe now. The Wolf is dead. I killed it myself in its lair, the cave at Mount Grimmoor.” The Reeve began to turn, hoping that would be the end of it.

Solomon looked at him as though he were a child. The villagers were unsure which patriarch should receive their allegiance.

“You’ve been deceived by this beast.” Solomon systematically cracked his knuckles. “Right from the start. Most likely, it lured a hungry wolf to the cave and trapped it there for you to find. It fooled you into thinking it lived on Mount Grimmoor so that you wouldn’t look for it in the most obvious place.”

He paused, letting them understand their own folly.

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