Wild Blood

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Book: Read Wild Blood for Free Online
Authors: Kate Thompson
did, too, that this way was a dead end. It was only a matter of time before Tess’s progress would be halted by the foot of the crag.
    Her fear increased. She looked right and left but couldn’t find the right opportunity to turn. Nor, with every nerve focused on flight, could she muster the presence of mind to Switch. They were going so fast that they were already approaching the cliff, and for a few awful moments it seemed to Tess that all her worries had been for nothing, since she wasn’t going to make it as far as her birthday. As the grey rock-face began to show itself between the trees, the dogs moved out to flank her on either side, prepared for any swerve she might take in either direction.
    There was only one choice left open to Tess. She would have to stand and fight. She had no idea what the odds would be, since she was young and her short horns had seen no action. But she was determined that the dogs wouldn’t see the end of her without some fairly tough resistance. All at once the rock was rising sheer before her, and she was skidding to a halt in a flurry of moss and leaf mould when she heard an unexpected sound behind her; a savage snarl followed by an indignant yelp.
    Tess spun round to see what was happening. To her amazement there were now three dogs instead of two. The newcomer was not a sheepdog like Bran and Sceolan but belonged to a far older breed. It was an Irish wolfhound; grey as the limestone, skinny and muscular as the goats. It was on the offensive; hackles raised, snapping and snarling at the astonished sheepdogs.
    There was no competition. Bran was too old to put up a good fight and Sceolan was too young. As well as that, they were away from their own territory and on unfamiliar ground. They did their best to maintain their dignity, but backed down nonetheless and were soon trotting through the woods the way they had come.
    The wolfhound watched them go, then turned back towards the place where Tess was standing. And, as it regarded her quietly with its brown eyes, she realised that she had made a terrible mistake. The hound had rescued her, or at least given her a reprieve, but it had not been done out of gallantry. The look in those eyes was keen and hungry. This was not a well-fed farm dog out for a bit of sport but a lean, mean hunter, looking for a meal. Tess might be out of the frying pan, but she had jumped straight into the fire.
    But she had, at least, that moment to act, and she did. The instant before the hound sprang she Switched into a blackbird and rose with a terrified chattering up through the branches and into the clear sky beyond. Once there she Switched again, and with sharp kestrel eyes she watched as the thin hound sloped off among the trees. As she hovered, still watching, her ears began to pick up a sound in the background that meant something. She was still shaken, and it was a moment or two before she could allow herself to let go of the fear of the chase and concentrate on the information. But the instant she did, a new shock went through her bloodstream. The sound was the hysterical yipping of a dog that had cornered its prey. Bran and Sceolan had found another victim.

CHAPTER SIX
    S TILL IN THE FORM of a kestrel, Tess climbed the skies until she could get a clear view of the surrounding wasteland. She did not have to rise very high in order to see where the noise of the dogs was coming from. For a moment she hovered, taking in the scene. The old nanny goat, the one who had first approached her near the farm wall, was facing Bran and Sceolan, who, despite having run down their quarry, weren’t about to tangle with those well-practised horns. What Tess couldn’t understand, though, was why the old goat had chosen that spot to make her stand. The ground there was wide open, and there was no way the dogs could have cornered her. It didn’t make sense.
    Then she saw. The goat’s kid, one of the smallest of them all, had fallen into a deep grike and was trapped

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