Wolf Notes and Other Musical Mishaps Read Online Free PDF Page B

Sylvie to hear her sayingbreathlessly “… the Wild Hunt, to mark the start of their revels!”
    Yann shrugged. “No problem. Even with two of you on my back, I can outpace a pack of hounds.”
    “Don’t try to race them!” cried Sylvie. “Haven’t you heard of the Wild Hunt?”
    “No,” the centaur laughed, “but I go on some wild gallops myself!”
    “Listen to me, Yann! It’s not the speed that counts, it’s the pursuit.” Sylvie tried desperately to explain. “This magical hunt never stops. These hounds pursue you forever. Once you start to run, you become their prey and they hunt you forever. If you outpace them, they may never catch you, but they won’t stop chasing you … not for the rest of your life. We can’t let them start to chase us. We must hide.”
    They looked round. There were plenty of places for slim girls to hide, but where could a horse hide in a forest?
    Yann took a deep breath. “I can’t climb trees. I’ll have to run for it.”
    “No!” Helen added her voice to Sylvie’s pleas. “You can’t gallop all over the countryside this week, Yann, I need you to help me escape the Faery Queen. And I know you love to stretch your legs, but running for the rest of your life sounds no fun.”
    Helen turned to Sylvie. “What happens if you just refuse to run? Do they tear you apart? Or do they find something else to chase?”
    “I don’t know.”
    They heard a ringing horn, answered by a whole pack of baying hounds.
    Helen announced, “I’m not leaving Yann to find out on his own! Sylvie, please bank down the fire, then climb back up your tree. Yann, put on my fleece.” She unzipped her fleece, shivering as the night air hit her t-shirt underneath. “Here, Yann. Now lie down.”
    He pulled the fleece on. “Lie down?”
    “Yes, we’ll just be a couple of sleeping children camping in the forest. And we aren’t going to run! No matter what they do.”
    “But…” Yann struggled with the zip of the fleece, “but, Helen … if the faeries see a centaur, even a sleepy one, they’ll know fabled beasts are in the forest with humans, and they might realize we’re working together to frustrate their plans.”
    The wild music of the horns and hounds was getting louder. “Don’t argue,” she ordered. “Lie down!”
    She was searching the rucksack for two small packets she’d kept after a charity race: foil blankets designed to keep body temperature up after a sweaty race, but also useful for preventing shock after injuries. She ripped the pouches open and covered Yann’s horse body with the silver blankets , leaving only his fleece-covered torso and head showing. Then she lay down against his back.
    Sylvie was still putting handfuls of earth on the fire.
    “Hurry, Sylvie!” said Helen. “Hide up the tree!”
    Sylvie looked at her with bright yellow eyes. “No, human girl. I will not be driven off my land by faery hounds. And I won’t abandon Yann. Or you.”
    She lay down on the other side of Yann.
    In the dark, with the fire almost dead, with no tail or hooves showing, they looked like a heap of human children huddled together for warmth.
    So they lay there, as the hounds’ wild cries got louder. Helen’s legs twitched with the desire to leap up and run back to the lodge, to the safety of her duvet. She dug her fingers into the earth to hold herself there.
    “Pretend to be asleep,” she whispered. “And whatever they do, don’t run.” Helen closed her eyes.
    She was “woken” by a cold nose at her throat.
    She mumbled, “Wha’ timezit?” and sat up, looking in dreamy surprise at the dozens of dogs around her. White dogs with russet ears and glowing green eyes. They growled at her.
    “Hello dogs,” she murmured, patting the nearest one on the nose.
    “Do not try to make friends with them, they are working dogs,” said a voice from the darkness behind the torches. A woman’s voice, light, musical and somehow familiar. But very, very cold.
    “What are you