Free Beauties of the Beast (The Yellow Hoods, #4): Steampunk meets Fairy Tale by Adam Dreece Page B

Gunter by the collar, Bernardo growled at him. “I’m trying to make you feel better, old man. Careful you don’t end up on the cart to Kaban with the kid. Got it?”
    “Yes… yes, I understand,” said Gunter, cowering.
    A gunshot, and then another, cracked the night. Richy sprang to his feet and crossed the cell. He grabbed the bars and strained to listen. Several more shots rang out down the corridor. He could hear Bernardo cursing and struggling with someone. “Don’t hurt the old man!” yelled Richy. “Is that you, Bakon? Eg? I’m over here! Don’t hurt the old man, though!” His heart was racing.
    He grabbed his yellow cloak and put it on, hoping that any stray bullets would find it instead of him. Suddenly, a lantern shattered, and then another. 
    “Eg? Bakon?” called Richy, worried. His almond-shaped blue eyes squinted in the dim light as he backed up. Reflexively, he reached into the pockets of his cloak, only to be reminded his shock-sticks weren’t there. Something was moving in the shadows. The moonlight bounced off of two long blades. “Who are you? What do you want?” 
    A female voice asked something forcefully.
    “I don’t understand. Do you speak Frelish?” asked Richy, his hands in tight fists.
    “Dragon?”
    “What? Who are you? Why are you here?” asked Richy.
    The silhouette unlocked his cell door and gently pushed it open. She was about the same size as him, her head and body hidden behind a dark hood and cloak. She raised empty hands.
    “Your hood, pull it back,” said the woman in angry Frelish. “I mean you no harm, but I must see your face. I need to know if you are the blue-eyed dragon.”
    “What? I’m just a kid,” he said, glancing around.
    “Show me your face, please,” she asked.
    With a deep breath, he pulled back his hood and looked at her.
    “Riichi!” she said, leaping forward and hugging him.
    Without a thought, a name long forgotten rocketed out of him, “Amami!”

CHAPTER TEN

Lost Beauties
     
    “Belly! Belly! Banging! Banging at the door!” yelled a terrified little Selvin. He shook his sleeping older brother as vigorously as he could. “Wake up!”
    Beldon sat up, squinting. “You were just having a nightmare, Skelly. It’s dark. Go back to bed.” 
    “Scary,” said the second outline beside his bed.
    “It’s okay, Bore,” said Beldon, patting his little brother on the head. Then he stiffened as he heard screams coming from downstairs. “What’s that?”
    “Don’t know,” said little Selvin.
    “Okay,” said Beldon, slipping out of his bed and tip-toeing to their bedroom door. Opening it a crack, he peeked out. He saw smoke and people running about.
    He stared at his brothers, trying to hide his panic. Selvin was still looking sickly, having nearly drowned a second time two weeks ago. 
    “Mama?” asked Bore.
    “That’s what I’m thinking, Bore,” said Beldon. “Maybe she needs our help.”
    “We go help?” asked Selvin.
    Beldon nodded.
    Holding their hands in a chain, they opened the door.

    An hour later, Caterina stumbled up to the boys’ room, the ruined manor still alive with the sounds of fighting and a raging fire. She dropped her mother’s short sword, covered in the blood of her husband, and stared at the broken lock on the bedroom door. She stepped into the room, her eyes darting about. “Boys?!” she screamed, as she ran from bed to bed. She squinted in the meager light, hunting around for a lantern to crank. With lantern in hand, she checked under each bed and behind the curtains. “Bel? Sel? Bore? Come out, Mama’s not playing.”
    Wiping her tears, she picked up the blade and ran down the corridor, checking every bedroom and screaming for her boys until the smoke became too thick to speak. As she retreated to the back of the manor, she searched every nook and cranny along the way, her voice becoming hoarse in the process. Stepping over bodies and fending off angry peasants at each turn, she found herself