Red Rider RIsing: Book 2 of the Red Rider Saga D.A. Randall (top 5 ebook reader TXT) 📖

“Hopefully not.” His eyes looked kind but wounded. “Are you all right, Helena?”

I curled my lips shut. I wanted to tell someone what happened. What I had discovered about the wolves, whatever that was, exactly. I needed to learn what made those two bolts kill the wolves when the others failed. But Father Vestille was the last person I wanted to confess my activities to, let alone boast about them. “I’m all right,” I said. “Thank you for your hospitality. It’s very kind of you.”

He seemed ready to say something, then shook his head slightly. “You can stay here if you wish. I’ll keep you hidden. My home will always be open to you, no matter where you go or what you do. I just want you to be safe.”

“Thank you. I’ll consider that.” I hardly knew what to say. After I had rejected all of his hospitality, he still offered me a home. His home.

Or at least, the secret longhouse hidden beneath it.

My own underground refuge, for as long as I wanted.

Somehow it seemed right to hide here.

Despite its musty odor, it felt so comfortable and 219

familiar. As if I belonged here, where nothing could touch me.

I studied the dusty rocking chair as Father Vestille leaned forward on the awkward stool to tear off some bread. “Who did you hide down here during the war?”

He blinked in surprise. “I hid you.”

I nearly choked on my bread. He leaned forward anxiously, but I held up a hand as I chewed and swallowed. “What?”

“You and your parents, and your

Grand’Mere. When foreigners started raiding the villages, they were hunting for soldiers. Like your father. This underground shelter was a secret that the former owner shared with me, for just such a purpose. We’ve all kept it secret ever since.” He shook his head, recalling troubled times. “Your father came home frantic, the last survivor of his regiment. Not certain whether to fight the invaders or protect your mother, who was with child – you.

He decided, wisely, to protect his family. You were born down here, with your Grand’Mere serving as midwife. You all lived here nearly two years, while the invaders tried to secure territory up above. Your father snuck out at night on several occasions to wreak havoc on their equipment and supplies, then retreated back here to safety.”

“Papa hid here and snuck out to battle the enemy at night?”

“One successful ambush after another,”

Father Vestille said. “He took great risks, but he always returned home safe to your mother, here.”

Just like I did last night, I thought.

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I stared back at the rocking chair, laden with years of dust. I tried to imagine Mama rocking an infant in it. Tried to imagine her wondering how long she would be confined to this underground prison, struggling to keep her child hidden. To keep me hidden. As she wondered if the invasion would ever end, and whether Papa would return that night, or leave her and Grand’Mere to raise me all alone.

Father Vestille folded his hands over his mouth. “The invading forces never bothered me. I was only a priest, submitting to their rule. So I could keep you all safe.” He lowered his gaze.

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. Your parents invited me here from Burgundy, and let me stay with them until I could find a place of my own.

This place. I owe them a great deal.”

I felt cobwebs lifting from my memories. “I remember a wide door opening in the ceiling,” I said. “I remember sunlight pouring in.”

He smiled. “We all celebrated when the King’s soldiers arrived to secure order. We were free. Free to return to our separate homes. But we kept meeting every week at your home.”

Until the wolf attacks, when you decided to spend your time visiting safer provinces,