TRINITY WAS EXHAUSTED. THEY’D BEEN traveling all day and for most of the time Gaar had made her practice her survival skills. She’d had to scurry up trees on a moment’s notice and had to leap from limb to limb. Sometimes, Gaar or Mirra had played predator and had chased her or had lain in wait. She’d always been caught and according to them, she’d always been dinner. This had not improved her mood or her confidence. Finally, all lessons had stopped when they’d entered the less dense area of the forest. Mirra had left to travel ahead, masking their scent.
She pushed aside some bushes, but there was nothing there but more vegetation. She should have found the Tracker encampment by now. It was around here somewhere; she was positive. Well, she was almost sure. The area looked the same but truthfully, she hadn’t been paying much attention the day she and Travis had stumbled across the camp. Sweat trickled down her back. She was running out of time. She had to be home by tomorrow night and she still needed to go to the Finishing Camp.
“Are you positive that you saw Trackers?” asked Gaar for, at least, the tenth time.
She spun around. “Enough. I don’t know why your great sense of smell didn’t discover them.” She stomped over to him. “All I know is that I saw them.”
He cocked a brow. “Where? All I see is a grouchy House Servant.”
She took a deep breath and counted to ten. She could do this. She had to. All she needed was a better look at the area. “Wait here.” She climbed a tree and gazed out at the forest. A familiar landmark caught her eye. “Over there,” she shouted, pointing to the right. She climbed down and darted through the brush toward a large tree that was split like a giant fork. “It’s around here.”
Gaar followed, sniffing. “Are you sure? I should be able to smell them.”
She gritted her teeth. “Yes, I’m sure.” She moved farther into the bushes, shoving aside the underbrush and revealing a large stone wall. “We go through here. It’s a secret doorway.” She moved her hand over the rock, feeling for the release lever and paused, turning around. “Shouldn’t we wait for Mirra?”
“She’s here. Has been for some time.”
That was impossible. She would have known. Even that first day in the forest, she’d been sure something was following her and now, after all her lessons, she was much more aware of her surroundings.
There was a slight rustle in the leaves of a nearby tree. It was so minor that it could have been the breeze, but it wasn’t. The Tracker dropped to the ground a few feet from her, landing silently, the odor of pine and herb wafting around them.
She shook her head. How had she not known that Mirra waited on a branch only a few feet away?
Gaar frowned. “That means more lessons. A lot more.”
She groaned but nodded.
Mirra paced. “We go. Now.”
The Tracker was anxious which was understandable. Mirra was going to see others of her kind for the first time in years. She started to turn back toward the door when Gaar grabbed her shoulder.
“Before we go any farther, what’s it like inside? Are there trees or brush where we can hide?”
“Yeah. At least, there was before.”
He let go of her and she began searching for the release lever again.
Gaar sniffed the stone. “There must be something in or on this that hides their scent. Otherwise, Mirra and I would have found them years ago.”
“Guards coming.” Mirra stared into the brush behind them.
He stilled, listening to the forest. “We have time, but the sooner we get inside the better.”
Her hands trembled. She was doing the best that she could. Travis had stumbled upon the lever the last time. It wasn’t like she really knew where it was. She tried the other side. There was a small indentation in the stone. It was smooth, too smooth to be natural. She pressed inward and a click sounded. “I’ve got it,” she said excitedly. “Help me push. It’s heavy.”
He stepped behind her and gave a slight shove. The rock door slid open easily.
She frowned. “It’s heavy to me.”
“Go. Now,” ordered Mirra.
Gaar grabbed her arm. “Me first. You next. Mirra will bring up the rear.” He slipped through the entrance. Once clear, he motioned for them to follow.
She glanced behind her at the door. “Don’t let it close all the way. I don’t know where the release lever is from this side.”
Mirra purred. “I wait here for Guards.”
“No. We are not to kill the Guards. We are to check out the camps today. Nothing else.”
Mirra snarled. “Stupid plan.”
“Let the door close,” he said. “If we leave it open the Guards will know someone is here.”
He had a valid point, but what if they couldn’t find the lever to open the door? They’d be trapped inside the Tracker camp. Mirra let go of the door and it closed with a sickening click.
Gaar met her gaze and held it. “The latch should be around here and if not, we’ll find another way. I promise. I need you to focus on our current situation, okay?”
She took a deep breath and nodded.
“Now, show us the Trackers,” he said.
“That way.” She pointed straight ahead.
As they crept through the brush, they came to an area where the vegetation wasn’t as thick. Gaar halted in mid-stride.
“What’s wrong? Is someone coming?” She glanced around but everything was clear.
He didn’t move or say a word. Mirra pushed past her and stopped beside him. Mirra’s hair bristled and a low growl rumbled in her chest. He held a finger to Mirra’s lips. The Tracker jerked her head away, but silenced the growl.
She couldn’t see a thing around their bulky frames. She stepped out from behind them. There were five Trackers chained in a cleared area of the forest, three more than last time. They were situated so that even if the chain was taut, they could not reach one another. They each had a small shelter made of rotting wood with two buckets next to it, probably for food and water. One Tracker, a large black male, paced, straining his chain on each trip. The other four lay in the dirt. The grass had long ago been worn away.
Farther back in the yard, there were ten cages and two buildings. Three Trackers inhabited three of the cages. Except for the Trackers, the cages were barren, no food, water, or shelter from the elements.
A russet colored, male Tracker in a cage stood and sniffed the air. He began clanking his teeth together and grunting. The other Trackers turned toward the forest. Their ears perked. The Tracker that was pacing quickened his gait and began to emit a low rumble.
Her instincts screamed for her to run, to get as far away from the sounds and the gleaming eyes of the Trackers as possible but she had to remain calm. Predators could smell fear. “If they keep this up, the Guards will come.” Thankfully, her voice didn’t betray her nervousness.
Mirra stepped out of the brush. A hush fell over the Tracker camp. Even the pacing Tracker stopped to stare at her. Mirra moved closer. One of the chained Trackers raced forward and lunged.
Trinity grasped Gaar’s arm. He absent mindedly patted her hand, his focus on Mirra and the camp.
Mirra didn’t even flinch as the male Tracker flew toward her. He was only about six inches away before he was yanked back by the chain around his neck and landed on his rump in the dirt. Trinity exhaled and dropped her grip on Gaar.
Mirra crouched. “I friend. I help.”
The Tracker bared his teeth.
Mirra pointed to herself. “Mirra.” She pointed to the Tracker. “Who you?”
The Tracker’s lips quivered and a long thread of drool hung from his mouth as he continued to snarl. Mirra cocked her head, studying the other Tracker.
“He no speak,” said the russet Tracker in the cage.
Mirra stood and looked at him. “You speak.” She cautiously made her way over to him. Some of the Trackers on the chains leapt at her as she passed, but she paid no attention to them. She stopped in front of the russet Tracker and pointed to herself. “Mirra.”
The Tracker pointed to his chest. “Nirankan.” He then pointed to a small, black and gray female Tracker in the cage next to his and said, “Sikka.”
Sikka walked to the front of her cage and nodded at Mirra.
Next, Nirankan pointed to a white and brown male Tracker in the cage next to Sikka’s. “Para.”
Para remained leaning against the back of his enclosure. His eyes were watery and his nose was dry and crusty. He looked at Mirra and tipped his head in a slight nod.
As Gaar continued to stare at the scene before him, he reached to the side and grasped her shoulder, squeezing hard. “Real Trackers. And they’re communicating with her.”
She smiled weakly, shifting sideways and breaking his grip. She was glad Mirra was not the last of her kind. The Trackers in the cages seemed friendly enough, so there was hope that Mirra could find a mate, but the chained Trackers scared her. There was something different about them.
“Who them?” Mirra pointed to the Trackers in the yard.
Nirankan shrugged. “They stupid.”
Mirra bristled. “That no nice.”
“They no nice. They stupid. They no speak. They know nothing. They just kill,” he spat out.
“I kill,” snapped Mirra. “I no stupid.”
He grasped the bars of the cage and leaned forward. “They no right.” He tapped himself on the temple.
Mirra looked back at the chained Trackers. The one had gone back to pacing. The others glared at her, some still snarling. “What wrong?”
“That’s a good question,” muttered Gaar. “I’ve never seen Trackers behave like that.”
There was something odd about the chained Trackers. It was more in their demeanor than their physical attributes. They glared at Mirra, but there was something else besides anger in their eyes, confusion or perhaps sadness.
Nirankan loosened his grip on the cage. “They no come out right.”
“What you mean?” asked Mirra.
“They no made right.”
“Made?” asked Mirra. “I no understand.”
He studied her. “You real, like us.” He reached out to touch her but she was too far away. “Come closer.”
Trinity held her breath. Nirankan was larger than Mirra by at least one hundred pounds. Mirra was arrogant and a bit reckless but she wouldn’t put herself in danger, would she?
Mirra didn’t move.
“Please,” he said.
Mirra remained where she was. “What you mean real?”
“You know you parents?” he asked.
Mirra hesitated. “Yes.”
He nodded at the Trackers in the yard. “They no have parents. They made here.” He pointed to the building that stood closest to the cages.
“You mate there. Have babies there,” said Mirra disgustedly.
Trinity grimaced. That was worse than her camp.
“We no mate. They take blood”—Nirankan tapped his arm with his paw—“later bring new Tracker.” He stared at the ones in the yard. “They know nothing but there.” He nodded toward the building. “They no born. They no grow up. They just are. That why they no speak. They never taught.”
She and Gaar exchanged a puzzled look. How could that be possible? Mirra glanced back at them, her shock and horror as clear as if she’d spoken. Trinity grabbed Gaar’s hand and squeezed. It was way worse than her camp.
“This is not good,” muttered Gaar. “I wish I’d given her a shot. She’s getting harder to handle and this is not going to be easy for her.”
“You leave this place,” warned Nirankan. “They catch you. They cage you.” He shook the bars.
Mirra backed away. “Mirra set you free.” She scanned the yard. “Set all free.”
“Stick with the plan, Mirra,” whispered Gaar.
Trinity glanced at him. His face was like stone and his eyes gazed intensely at Mirra. Did he think the Tracker could hear him?
Nirankan shook his head. “Too late for us. Go. Now. Or they catch you.”
Mirra looked their way, as if she heard Gaar’s command. Her eyes narrowed and she shook her head slowly. She moved closer to the cage. “I no leave you.” She looked at the other two caged Trackers. “I no leave any.”
“You no free us. You no think we tried? It no work,” said Nirankan.
One of the Trackers in the yard sniffed and grunted. He let out a short howl.
“Go now,” said Nirankan as he raised his head and inhaled. “You travel with Handler. You scent mask wear off.”
A cacophony of hoots and howls broke out from the Trackers in the yard.
“Mirra promise. Mirra come back. Mirra free you.” She turned and raced away as three Guards ran out of the building that was farthest from the cages.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
“A Tracker’s loose,” yelled a Guard.
Mirra stopped and looked back at the approaching Guards. She bared her teeth in a parody of a smile and darted into the brush away from where they were hiding.
Gaar shook his head and blinked several times, looking around as if he was waking up in a strange place. “We need to go.”
“What about Mirra?”
“She’ll find us,” he said as he backed away.
“But the Guards…”
“They won’t catch her.” He gently shoved her toward the stone doorway.
She ran her hands over the rock. Luckily, the release lever was in the same spot on both sides of the wall. She pressed the switch. The door opened and they exited the camp letting it slide shut behind them.
“Someone’s coming. From over there.” She pointed in the direction they were headed.
He sniffed the air. “Guards.”
They were trapped. Her heart raced. How many Guards were there? Could Gaar kill them all?
He looked to the right and then left. “Quick. On my back.”
She shoved his quiver and backpacks to the side, clamping her arms up and under his armpits and her legs around his torso. He began climbing the stone wall, using the imperfections in the rock as grips, so that even with his large hands he was able to almost stick to the wall as he climbed. It was like her first encounter with Mirra, except whereas the Tracker almost glided up the wall, this wasn’t easy for him. After the third slip down the rock, she shut her eyes and prayed. When they reached the top she said a silent thank you to Araldo as Gaar helped her off his back. He held a finger to his mouth, signaling silence. The wall was about four feet wide. He lay down on his side, facing the forest. She did the same, her head near his feet.
All was quiet for about ten minutes and then there was rustling in the brush below. The smell of unwashed Guard assaulted her. She wrinkled her nose and tried to breathe through her mouth. She could not be captured by these creatures.
Five Guards casually filtered through the woods, their heads angled down, sniffing. They were lean and rangy, probably bred for speed. The stone door opened and the three Guards from inside the Tracker encampment stepped into the forest. Four of the hunting Guards turned toward the noise and stopped. The fifth member of the hunting pack motioned to the others and they quietly slipped back into thicker vegetation.
“Chubs, can you smell her?” asked one of the Tracker Guards. He was young and thin. “Where could she have gone? We were right on top of her.”
“Face it, we lost her,” said Chubs, who was short and chubby.
“We have to find her,” said the third Tracker Guard. He was of average height and a bit plump. He seemed to be in charge. “Benedictine will kill us.”
“How did she get loose?” asked Chubs.
“She didn’t,” said the young Guard. “Our eight are all still in the yard.”
The leader stopped walking. “Did they bring out a new one?”
“No, Trip, they didn’t,” said the young Guard.
“Do you smell that?” asked Chubs, looking around.
All three of the Tracker Guards stilled. As they sniffed the air, one-by-one the hunting Guards moved into view.
The leader of the hunting pack stepped forward. “Did I hear you say Benedictine?”
The three Tracker Guards looked around nervously. Trinity couldn’t blame them. They were surrounded, outnumbered and the hunting Guards were bigger and in better shape. She had a pang of empathy for the Tracker Guards. If it weren’t for Mirra and Gaar, she would’ve been in a similar situation.
“Yes,” said Trip, puffing up his chest in a show of false bravado.
“Is he looking for a lost Producer?” asked the hunting leader.
“We don’t know anything about a Producer,” said Trip. “But, if he’s in this area, he either belongs to Benedictine or the Forest Witch.”
The hunting leader stepped closer, towering over Trip. He bristled and a low growl rumbled in his chest. “She belongs to us. We caught her scent first. So remember, if you stumble across her in the woods, she’s ours.” His lip curled, showing sharp canines colored brown around the gums.
“We don’t go into the forest. We aren’t allowed to leave,” blurted Chubs.
The hunting leader turned to face Chubs. “Leave where?”
“Don’t say anything,” said Trip.
The hunting leader motioned and his team of Guards closed in, forcing the three Tracker Guards to huddle together.
“Tell me what you were doing and I may spare your lives,” said the hunting leader.
The three Tracker Guards looked at each other. Trip and the young Guard shook their heads in warning at Chubs.
“I’m not dying over this.” Chubs turned to the hunting leader. “We work for Benedictine. We protect a hidden encampment of Trackers.”
“Trackers? Did you hear that?” The hunting leader laughed and his Guards chuckled. “Trackers are extinct.” He abruptly stopped laughing and grabbed Chubs by the throat. “Lie to me again and you’re dead. Understand?”
“If they kill each other, our task will be easier,” whispered Gaar.
She tensed. She didn’t like them, but she didn’t want to see them tear each other to pieces.
Chubs gurgled and tried to nod his head.
The hunting leader let him go. “Now, tell me. What are you hunting?”
“I wasn’t lying,” said Chubs, his voice raspy.
The hunting leader’s lip curled upward slowly, baring his teeth again.
“Wait.” Trip swallowed visibly. “I can show you.”
“Benedictine will kill us,” said the young Tracker Guard.
“You’ll be dead long before the Almighty gets to you if you don’t convince me,” said the hunting leader.
“This way.” Trip showed them the hidden door.
Gaar carefully turned to his other side. She did the same. The Guards stepped through the stone doorway into the hidden encampment.
“Why haven’t they smelled us?” she whispered.
“The Tracker Guards’ fear overpowered our scent. Plus, we’re pretty far up and this type of Guard hunts by ground scent.”
The group of Guards was now in the yard.
“Holy Araldo!” exclaimed the hunting leader. “These are Trackers.” He looked at his pack in disbelief. “They weren’t lying.”
“There was another one loose in here earlier. I think it was a wild one. That’s what we were chasing,” said Trip. “At first we thought one of these broke free, but all of ours are here.”
“It can’t be a wild one,” said the hunting leader. “They were wiped out years ago. Did one of yours get out earlier and come back?”
Trip shook his head. “The only way they leave here is dead.”
At the hunting leader’s confused look he explained.
“They die either from the blood draining or by the Handlers when we put them together.” He laughed. “You should be here then. It’s a sight to see. It’s even money on which one will make it out alive.”
Trinity gritted her teeth. It was a joke to them. A game. They forced creatures like Mirra and Gaar together to fight until death and then laughed about it. Someone should do that to them. They wouldn’t find that so amusing.
“Sounds like a good time,” said the hunting leader.
“The battle is great to watch, but when they don’t bond, it doesn’t make Benedictine happy. I’m sure you know that his wrath is not a joke,” said Trip.
The hunting leader nodded. “I’ve heard about Benedictine’s temper. We haven’t decided if we should sell the Producer to Benedictine or the Forest Witch.”
She swallowed and looked at Gaar. Who was this Forest Witch? Their eyes met and held. He smiled reassuringly.
“If the Producer is one of Benedictine’s, he won’t pay you for him,” said Chubs.
Trip glared at him.
“What? I was just warning them. Benedictine will simply take the Producer because it belongs to him.”
The hunting leader patted Chubs on the shoulder. “The witch it is then.”
“I’m surprised the Producer is still alive,” said Trip. “These woods are not safe, especially for a Producer.”
The hunting leader nodded. “That’s why we need to find her quick, before something else does. It isn’t often a prize like a Producer is dropped in your lap.”
“I almost had her too,” chimed in one of the hunting pack. “I was hot on her scent trail and then all I could smell was pine. It was weird too because I didn’t see a pine tree anywhere.”
“Pine?” Trip looked at his two Guards.
“Yeah, pine,” said the hunting leader. “What of it?”
“We smelled pine today when we were chasing the Tracker,” said Trip. “We’ve noticed that the Trackers here give off different scents. Not all the time, but they can.”
“Yeah, the crazy one”—Chubs pointed to the pacing Tracker—“he gives off a sweet scent sometimes. It’s like overripe fruit.”
The hunting leader looked at his Guards. “And you say that there was a wild Tracker here, today, and you smelled pine when you were chasing her?”
Trip nodded. “If a Tracker got your Producer, there won’t be much left of her. They’re vicious creatures.”
They all turned to look at the Trackers. Seven of them sat quietly staring at the Guards. The eighth continued pacing.
“They give me the creeps,” said one of the hunting Guards. “It’s like they’re just waiting for us to come near.”
“They are,” said Trip. “If you get too close, they will tear you apart. You don’t get a second chance with a Tracker.”
The hunting leader growled and snapped his teeth at the Trackers. They didn’t even blink.
“Did you see the Handler?” asked one of the hunting Guards. He was younger than the rest.
How did they know about Gaar? She glanced at him but he only shook his head.
The other Guards turned toward the young hunting Guard.
“I’ve heard rumors of one pair still in the wild,” continued the young hunting Guard.
“That’s an old tale to scare the children,” scoffed Trip.
The hunting leader held up his hand. “Now wait. If there’s a wild Tracker, maybe the old story has some truth to it.”
Trip shrugged. “I guess it’s possible. We need to send word to Benedictine that there’s a wild Tracker and maybe a Handler out here.”
The hunting leader grasped his arm. “We’ll tell Benedictine. Information like that could be valuable.”
Trip eased his arm free. “Okay. You should probably go then. Benedictine will want to know as soon as possible.”
The hunting leader smiled and clasped Trip on the shoulder. “In a few days. We’ve been in the woods for a long time and Benedictine doesn’t have to know exactly when we discovered this information. How about we hang out here for a little while?”
“Sure, why not,” said Trip, his voice cracking. It wasn’t an offer that he could turn down.
The Guards wandered into the building. A few stomped and growled at the captive Trackers as they passed.
“They’ll take this opportunity to rest. We need to leave. Now,” whispered Gaar.
He stood on the stone wall and she climbed onto his back, saying a quick prayer. She wasn’t looking forward to the descent. The ride up had been scary enough. He squatted and carefully made his way down, slipping only once. When they were on the ground, she dropped off his back and they moved silently through the forest.
An hour later, Gaar was still moving at a quick pace and she was beginning to lag behind. He waved for her to catch up. She took a deep breath and forced her legs to move faster. She considered begging him to take a break, but it wouldn’t do any good. He’d stop when he was ready. She needed to focus on something besides her aching muscles.
“What do you know about the Forest Witch?” She’d figured that if she were caught she’d be returned to camp and punished but never sold to a witch. She liked hearing about black magic in stories but she didn’t want to encounter it firsthand.
“Hush. There are things out here you don’t want to meet.” His face was tense and he moved cautiously through the brush.
She’d never seen him like this before. She crept closer until only a few feet separated them.
“Something’s following us,” he whispered as he unsheathed his knife.
The quiet rustle of vegetation behind them signaled that night was not the only thing approaching. He pointed to a large tree. She scurried up it and stopped on a limb high off the ground. He signaled for her to wait and then walked several yards farther before climbing another tree. He crouched on a low branch, knife in hand.
The woods were gray, the shadows growing wider as time passed. She waited, scanning the forest below, her heart pounding in her ears. What was hunting them, besides Guards? She pulled her knife out of the sheath and adjusted her position. Gaar always said that predators had to have patience, so the smart prey would too. She was still working on that. She shifted around again for a different angle. So far, she hadn’t seen anything dangerous in the forest, but she had traveled mostly with Mirra. She tried to relax her breathing, but it was coming in short pants. She had to calm down. Fear could be smelled. Fear attracted predators.
There was a soft whisper in the vegetation and a pair of glowing red eyes appeared in the brush. A few feet away were two more eyes and then another set. There were at least ten pairs, shining in the darkness.
One of the creatures stepped out of weeds. It had a long, thin body and stood on all fours. It was about three feet tall and over six feet long. Its features were similar to an Almighty’s but where an Almighty had a protruding nose and full lips, this creature had two slits for nostrils and thin lips. It was almost reptilian in its appearance.
What were these things? Were they dangerous? They didn’t look friendly. She glanced at the tree where Gaar waited. His attention was on the creature below. She turned her focus back to the lizard-man.
The creature’s tongue darted out, tasting their scent. A few more came out of hiding. They were all dark in color, probably a green or gray. It was hard to tell in the dim light. They continued testing the air with their tongues, searching for their prey.
The largest one walked past her tree to where Gaar waited. It raised its head and stood on its back legs, placing its front ones on the trunk of the tree. Its eyes narrowed and it snorted twice. The other lizard-men turned toward the sound.
Could it climb? Jump? Gaar wasn’t very high up. He couldn’t fight them all, could he? He didn’t seem worried. Actually, he was smiling a bit. She remained silent, afraid any sound would draw them toward her.
The lizard-man began to climb the tree, sinking it long claws into the bark like it was a loaf of bread. Gaar sheathed his knife and pulled a spear out of the quiver on his back. He grinned and threw the weapon. It struck the lizard-man in the neck, causing the creature to squeal and drop from the tree. It turned in circles, biting at the spear, trying to pull it from the side of its throat.
Four lizard-men surrounded the injured one. It immediately stopped trying to remove the spear and faced the others, slashing with its claws and teeth. The four backed away a little and flicked their tongues, tasting the blood in the air.
Two other creatures approached Gaar’s tree. He quickly threw spears at them, hitting one directly in the eye. It shuddered and collapsed. Another spear grazed the second lizard-man’s face and it backed away from the tree, stumbling over its dead companion.
The others, smelling death, turned away from the injured lizard-man, who took that opportunity to slink off into the forest. The remaining creatures now circled the dead one. One darted forward and bit into the fallen lizard-man’s gut and shook its head. The belly ripped open and it began to feast. The others pushed in and began eating.
She covered her mouth to stifle her gasp. She needed to stop watching but couldn’t tear her eyes away as the lizard-men tore hunks of flesh from the body and squabbled over choice pieces. A low whistle snapped her to attention. One of the creatures, hearing the sound, turned its bloody face toward Gaar. It flicked it tongue twice and then went back to feeding.
Gaar motioned for her to follow. He moved from branch to branch and tree to tree. She sheathed her knife and trailed after him along her own path, eager to put as much distance between her and the lizard-men as possible. Then she stopped. She couldn’t reach the next tree. Gaar continued moving forward.
She shifted around trying to find a spot close enough where she could leap to the next tree, but there was none. Gaar was getting farther away. Should she call to him? The lizard-men were still too close and who knew what else was out here? She had to do something before she lost sight of him completely. She was going to have to go to ground. She swallowed around a suddenly dry throat. It was not safe on the forest floor, but Gaar wasn’t stopping. Her hands trembled as she climbed down the tree and darted over to the path that he was using. She began scaling the trunk when something large grabbed her from behind. She jerked, trying to break the hold, but whatever had her was too strong. She started to scream when a clawed hand covered her mouth.
“Quiet, Little One. You bring Cold Creepers.” Mirra removed her hand from Trinity’s face. “Why you alone? Where Gaar-Mine?”
Mirra was going to scare her to death if she didn’t stop sneaking up on her. Her hand unsteady, she pointed ahead.
“Come,” said Mirra.
By the time they climbed the tree, Gaar was hurrying back. Mirra signaled for him to wait.
“Little One, where did you go?” he asked when they stopped next to him.
“I couldn’t reach the next tree. I had to go to ground.” Fear flooded through her again and tears welled in her eyes.
He pulled her into a quick hug. “I’m sorry. I thought you were behind me.”
“We go now,” said Mirra. “Cold Creepers finish soon. Then hunt again.”
Gaar took the lead, keeping her between him and Mirra. They stayed in the trees, moving farther away from the Cold Creepers. Finally, Gaar and Mirra decided that it was safe to stop as long as they didn’t go to ground.
She sat, panting. She was still not used to this much or type of travel. “I’m glad you’re safe, Mirra. I was worried that you might have run into the Guards.”
“Pfffft,” said Mirra. “No Guard catch me. No Guard catch Tracker.”
“You’re not invincible.” When Mirra started to scoff again, she added, “They caught the Trackers in the camp.”
Mirra frowned. “Tricked them. We go. Mirra free them.”
He reached out and stroked Mirra’s head. “Yes, we will go back, and we will set them all free.”
“We kill Guards.” It was not a question.
“Or we let Nirankan and the others kill the Guards,” he said, his eyes gleaming.
Mirra grinned. “Yes. That better. When we go?”
“Later. First, we’re going to take Little One to the Finishing Camp and then we need to check out the Handler camp.”
She tensed, waiting for the confrontation.
Mirra jerked around to glare at him. “Nirankan and others sick. They dying. Guards killing them. We free Trackers now.”
“No. We’ll show Little One the Finishing Camp. That way she’ll know that she can’t go home.”
“Tell Little One what happen her kind. We no need go.”
Would Gaar agree? She wanted to know, but she also needed to see the encampment. “Mirra, I want to find out if my friend and my brother are at the camp.”
“Why?” Gaar watched her closely. “What do you think you can do if they are there?”
She shrugged. She wasn’t going to tell him that she wanted to set them free if they weren’t happy at the camp or if something bad was going to happen to them. The latter seemed more and more likely since everyone that was not a Producer kept warning her not to go home.
“They can’t come with us,” he said. “I have enough problems keeping you safe. I don’t need two more Producers tagging along.”
“Unbelievable. You tell me that something horrible happens to my kind, although you won’t tell me what, and then you expect me to leave my family and friends to their fate.” She held up her hand when he started to interrupt. “Yet, both of you plan on freeing your kind from camps. What’s the difference? Why do Handlers and Trackers deserve to be free but Producers don’t?”
Gaar’s eyes narrowed but they glimmered with a hint of respect. “Producers are content where they are. They are happy in their ignorance. The Trackers and Handlers aren’t. Plus, I don’t have to babysit them. They can survive on their own.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. He had a point, but there was no way that she wasn’t going to at least go home and get her mom and Remy if their fate was as terrible as Gaar hinted.
“Then why go Finishing Camp?” asked Mirra.
She glanced from one to the other. Gaar wouldn’t back out now, would he?
He met her gaze and held it. “Something tells me that if Little One doesn’t see this for herself, she’ll sneak away as soon as our backs are turned.” He raised a brow. “It’ll be stupid of her and she’ll end up dead, but she’ll do it anyway.”
How did Gaar know what she was planning? Was she that obvious? She’d have to convince him that she wasn’t going anywhere or he’d never take his eyes off her again.
Mirra frowned at her. “We go Finishing Camp, then Little One stay with Mirra.”
“If it’s as bad as you say, then yes, I will.” She cringed a bit on the inside with the lie.
“Good.” Mirra smiled. “It real bad.”
She sighed. It really wasn’t something to be happy about, but Mirra didn’t understand things like being polite or common courtesy, so it was no use getting upset with her.
“Then it’s settled,” said Gaar as he took food out of his backpack. “Next stop, the Finishing Camp.”
After dinner they lay down for the night. She was tucked, warm and safe, against Mirra’s chest high in the tree. She wiggled in closer but sleep eluded her. Tomorrow, she’d have to sneak away. Mirra and Gaar might see it as a betrayal. They were her friends but she had to go home. She still wasn’t sure if she’d stay. Mirra growled in her sleep. She wasn’t even sure if she had a choice in the matter.