Rydinger and the Wolf

By Andrea Renae

Rydinger flipped the hood over his head as a chill wind whipped around a corner. He clutched the waxed fabric parcel closer.

“You sure about this, Red?” His insides twisted at his cowardice. Nessa deserved better.

The shadow in front of him didn’t slow.

“I guess that’s my answer,” he muttered, quickening his pace to match the towering woman’s stride.

“Get the Goods to Old Mother,” she finally grunted after they’d passed under the last bar of manufactured green light. “Don’t get caught. What else is there to be sure ’bout?”

Rydinger peered behind him. “What exactly am I smuggling?” The alley was empty, but that didn’t mean anything. The Wolf could be anywhere.

Just think about your sister. Think about Nessa.

Red turned abruptly. Her wiry hair escaped in a haze from under her cap. “That ain’t your business. Got it?” Her shrewd eyes landed on Rydinger, as if she could read his insecurities like computer code. But her gaze eased. “If the Wolf finds you, run. The rest is on you, kid.” She jerked her head toward the yawning darkness. “Old Mother’s waitin’. Now, scat.”

Four steps into the shadows, Rydinger’s confidence flatlined. “I’m not sure I’m ready… ” He turned to the last Light District, but Red had already vanished.

Going through the Black Out Zone was the only option now.

Fumbling to hold the Goods, Rydinger dug inside his jacket. He pulled out a rattly torch and swore when it didn’t click on. He smacked it a few times on his knee, sweat beading on his brow. A feeble beam shuddered into existence.

The Boz was a labyrinth of dead ends and dilapidated buildings. All the smugglers had been given a rough map to study. Very rough. Incomplete.

He gripped the electric torch. It was one thing to find something like it. Quite another that it still worked. His sister had chanced upon it years ago, but she was too young to know what it was or that having it was dangerous. Rydinger had quickly confiscated it.

Now, he was glad he had. With a light to guide the way, the Boz was just like any other district.

He stood straighter.

An hour into climbing through rubble and spooking at several blasted rats, the torch began to flicker.

“No… no, no, no!”

It went out.

Darkness swooped in. Rydinger gulped, trying to control his rampaging heart. Why couldn’t he remember the map? Nessa had helped him go over it a dozen times. A hundred.

A clatter sliced through the pounding in his ears. He spun toward the sound. The Goods slipped out of his hand, rolling into the surrounding darkness.

The noise again.

“Who’s there?”

Footsteps crunched in response. He felt for the cold metal of his pocket blade, flipped it open, and swung it around.

“Peace, child.” The voice was feminine. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

Rydinger flushed but kept the knife raised. He honed in on the stranger’s position. “You’re the Wolf.” He used the name as a weapon.

She sighed, and something heavy scraped against gravel. She must have found the Goods.

“Do you know what this is?”

“My ticket out of this hell,” he spat.

A soft laugh brushed his senses. “And what if I told you the thing you’re using to negotiate freedom is what ensures this city will remain a ‘hell’?”

There was a slicing sound, and the Boz filled with impossible light. Rydinger struggled to make his eyes focus. A slight-framed woman wrapped in layers of gray came into view. Her hair was a shimmering cascade without pigment. Countless cares etched her face.

This tired, unassuming woman was the Wolf? The legend that put fear into every smuggler who entered the Boz?

Her street name did not suit her.

“You have a choice.” She held out a glowing sphere and dropped the thick fabric that had concealed it. “Take this and work toward purchasing an escape… ”

He eyed the orb hungrily. All the threats, all the secrecy surrounding the Goods finally made sense. “Or?”

“Or give it back to the ones who cannot leave.”

The Wolf approached and gently pushed the blade aside.

One choice between freedom and the fate of a cursed city.

“What will you choose?”

Rydinger’s eyes lost focus on the dazzling spectacle. It would only take a few orbs to earn his release, but how many more would he need to secure Nessa’s? His sister was deteriorating rapidly from the Shadowblight that ravaged the poorer districts, where true light was scarce. And he had been about to hand over the very thing she needed most of all.

His efforts to save her could be the reason she would die.

The untruths and the guilt swirled so violently, he felt sick. But he grasped at one sure thing.

Old Mother was stealing light from the city—light sick kids needed to survive.

Hot anger cut through his immobilizing thoughts. He grabbed the sphere and hurled it against a wall. It shattered into a thousand luminescent fractals, and he threw out a hand to snag a shard before it could escape. His breath caught as he watched the rest float to the sky. That single orb already made an infinitesimal difference in the gloom. Maybe with enough of them released, light—health—would no longer be a privilege for the wealthy.

The woman’s illuminated face spread with a smile before she faded into the Boz’s oblivion.

Rydinger returned to the Light Districts, armed with truth that left no room for cowardice. He sheepishly reported another victory for the Wolf.

Red was furious, but she bought the lie.

When he returned home to his sister trapped in her Shadowblight sleep, he retrieved the shard from his pocket. The blinding thing burned in his palm. He raised a fist and let the Wolf’s gift drift to the ceiling.

Nessa’s eyes opened.

Rydinger would do everything in his power to ensure more victories would follow.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Andrea Renae grew up wandering the Canadian prairies with a cat in tow. An only child, she thrilled in stories of all kinds. Writing became a way to process life’s countless beauties, hardships, and oddities. She can often be found playing piano, experimenting with watercolors, knitting sweaters, or practicing for her inevitable fame on the GBBO. Her heart will always be with her family, her friends, and her goofy goldendoodle.

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