Of Sorcery and Snow Read Free Page B

Ripper hadn’t sped up at all. He just prowled behind the others, his jaws open in a smug doggy grin. Like he had all the time in the world. Like he knew he was going to get us.
    I hated it when bad guys underestimated us.
    â€œHere!” Lena dashed along an iron fence and through theopening. She pulled the baby food jar of green-gold paint from her pocket. “Oh no—where’s my brush?”
    Chase reached the gate next. He grabbed the iron bars and waited under the sign that read SHAKESPEARE GARDEN , its letters decorated with metal leaves. “Rory!” He pointed over my shoulder. “Wolf!”
    Without looking, I spun and punched. My fist caught a white wolf right between the eyes. It flew back with a whine, and its pack mates slowed to dart around him.
    I swung myself inside, and Chase slammed the door. Breathing hard, hands over my knees, I scanned our defensive position—a smallish garden, about the size of eight parking spaces, encircled by a tall black fence. The garden didn’t have that much in it, just a brick walkway that led to a couple benches and a low brick monument.
    â€œLena, can you set up a temporary portal with a closed door?” Chase shouted, holding the gate shut. “Please say yes.”
    â€œNo, but just lock it.” Lena inspected some small doors set straight into the brick and opened them. A metal bust of Shakespeare sat inside, protected by a sheet of clear plastic. “I’ve got another idea. Just give me a second to get the Plexiglas off.”
    â€œAwesome. Rory, help me look for something to tie this closed with,” Chase said, kicking through some leaves. “The park must use a chain to lock up. Check the bushes.”
    A wolf yipped, just up the trail. We didn’t have time to search the whole garden.
    I pulled my carryall in front of me and groped around until I found my sword belt. I tugged my sheath off and wrapped the sturdy leather strap once, twice, four times around the gate before buckling it closed.
    Through the fence, I spotted three wolves—smallish with dark brown backs—tearing up the trail.
    Chase stepped back, studying my handiwork. “They might try to chew through that.”
    â€œYou can stab them when they try,” I pointed out.
    One of the wolves threw itself against the door, trying to open the gate. Not a great idea. The belt latch held, and Chase slid his sword through the metal bars, straight into the wolf’s throat.
    It collapsed in front of us, and I felt kind of guilty for suggesting it.
    â€œLena, they’re catching up!” Chase said.
    â€œTwo more minutes!” Lena shouted back.
    Another little wolf trotted up the trail, water dripping from its gray fur. I recognized its big white paws—it must have swum out of Stow Lake, and it looked absolutely thrilled when it spotted the belt. Definitely too smart for a regular wolf. It jumped up, rested its front paws on the gate, and angled its teeth toward the leather, but before Chase could even lift his sword, a brown wolf shouldered its pack mate aside.
    â€œMark, you heard the boss’s orders,” it said.
    I stumbled backward, my mouth open. I’d run into a bunch of fairy-tale wolves in the Glass Mountain, but I’d never heard a wolf talk .
    â€œI know, I know,” said Mark, the gray wolf who tried to gnaw through my belt. “We wait till he gets here.”
    He even sounded younger than the others, maybe the same age as Lena’s brother George. He skulked back to the other wolves, his tail between his legs, and it was easy to imagine the teenager he’d been before the Snow Queen enchanted him—probably as ganglyand clumsy as George had been when he’d had a growth spurt last fall.
    Great. I could never kill them now.
    Chase’s eyes bulged. “Rory, this is bad.”
    â€œNo kidding,” I replied, as six more furry blurs ran along the fence.
    â€œNo, I mean, these are