TRINITY STOOD FROZEN IN PLACE, the Tracker towering over her. It was at least ten foot tall, standing on its back legs. Her breath came in short gasps, hands trembling at her sides. She should have picked up another stick. It wouldn’t have been much but it would have been something. The Guards hollered in the distance, closer now. A minute ago they were her enemy; now, they were her only chance to survive. One of the Tracker’s ears tipped back toward the sound, but its yellow eyes never left her.
All of a sudden, her lungs expanded and she opened her mouth to scream. The Tracker flew forward. Its large paw capturing her around the throat, stopping all sound as the long claws scraped her neck. It spun her around, yanking her back flush against its furry front.
“Shhhh,” it whispered in her ear.
It loosened its grip and she gasped for air. The Tracker flung her over its shoulder as it raced parallel to the rock wall. After several moments it stopped and flipped her as if she weighed less than a twig. She ended up resting on its back with her face near its neck. The creature shifted under her, dropping to all fours and crouching, muscles tensed.
“Hold on,” it ordered as it leapt upward, climbing the rock wall.
Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around its neck to keep from falling. It had retracted its claws and used its fingers to find small imperfections in the stone. If she let go, she’d fall to her death. If she held on, she’d be eaten alive when they reached their destination. The ground dropped farther and farther away. Her stomach flipped. She tightened her grip on the creature and squeezed her eyes shut. She’d worry about being dinner later. Right now, she’d concentrate on not falling.
They stopped moving. The Tracker, once again, stood on its back legs. She kept her arms tight around the creature, refusing to open her eyes or move. It couldn’t kill her if she were attached to its back, right? It was a stupid plan but for the moment it was the only one she had. It rolled its shoulders, trying to dislodge her. She readjusted her grip. The Tracker yanked her off its back. She cringed, keeping her eyes shut. This was it, the end. Maybe, she should have dropped to the ground. It might have been less painful than being torn apart.
Nothing happened. No pain. No teeth and claws ripping into her flesh. She slowly opened her eyes. She was on a ledge, far above the ground. She inhaled and swayed. The creature grabbed her arm, steadying her. She’d never been this high up before; it was frightening and beautiful. The forest laid out below like a painting in one of her books. The Tracker nudged her toward some boulders behind them and then shoved her between the rocks. She wiggled backwards. The farther she could get from the Tracker the better.
It turned its back on her and squatted, focusing on the ground below. Three Guards scrambled around searching the woods. According to her dad, Guards varied quite a bit in appearance. If they hunted for the Almightys then they were long and rangy. If they guarded the Almightys then they were solidly built. These were definitely hunting Guards although one was quite muscular. That one raised his head and sniffed the air, exposing his clean shaven face. She stifled a gasp. All Guards wore facial hair, except Benedictine’s Lead Guard. “The hairless Guard,” she whispered.
The Tracker stood, its large, muscular back blocking her view. She swallowed around a lump in her throat. She should have kept quiet. The Tracker motioned for her to come forward. She shook her head. Maybe, it couldn’t reach her between the rocks. She eased back a little more. The creature narrowed its eyes and in a flash pulled her from her hiding spot. She opened her mouth to beg for her life when the Tracker spun around so that its back was to her front and then leaned against her, smashing her into the boulder. It arched its spine, rubbing along her length. What is it doing, tenderizing me? She struggled to get away but there was no room to move. The musty, pine and herb odor of the Tracker transferred to her clothes with each rub. She turned her face, wrinkling her nose. It wasn’t an unpleasant odor, but it was weird having this thing ooze scent onto her.
The Tracker turned around so that they were facing each other again and pushed her back between the boulders. “Cover you smell. Smell like me. Little bit.”
She nodded slightly, trying to be pleasant. Was it protecting her, or did it not want to fight three Guards for its dinner?
It squatted and resumed staring at the forest. An owl hooted and another answered, signaling safety.
“The Guards are gone,” she whispered, not sure if she was relieved or scared. Now, it was just her and the Tracker.
“No. They wait. Quiet like us. I kill them but Gaar-Mine said Mirra no kill Guards.” It glanced back at her, lips pulled back in a grin. “Unless Guards try hurt Mirra. Then Mirra kill.” The Tracker fell silent, its muscular rib cage expanding with each quiet breath.
She’d never been this close to a Tracker. It was a magnificent creature, all sinewy-muscle with brindled fur and a long, puffy tail. It was female and smaller than the ones she’d seen in the camp that she and Travis had stumbled across while exploring. At first the Trackers had sat motionless, staring at them through the brush, focused and silent, willing them to move within the reach of their chains and then the Guards had brought in a Handler and the Trackers had forgotten about them. All their hatred directed toward the Handler. The one creature that legend told could control the Trackers.
The Tracker stood and faced her, yellow eyes glowing in the night. “I go. You wait for Mirra.” The Tracker pointed a claw at her own chest.
Once it was gone, could she climb down by herself? She glanced over the ledge. It was almost a straight drop down the steep wall. There was no escape, not if she wanted to live. She looked back at Mirra’s fuzzy face and nodded. If the Tracker wanted her to wait, wait she would.
Trinity huddled between the rocks on the ledge as the shadows in the forest stretched and merged together in darkness. The sleek coldness of the stone seeped past her clothes and into her skin, keeping her awake as the minutes ticked by agonizingly slow. An owl hooted. She shivered and wrapped her arms tighter around her body.
This was a disaster. She should’ve never left home. She could have spent her last few weeks with her parents. Instead, she was the captive of a Tracker. Why had she thought that she could find the camp? Because I’m an idiot. A lonely, pathetic idiot. She’d been so determined to come back and prove to all of them, especially Randy that she belonged.
A screech, loud and piercing, shattered the slumbering silence of the night. She scanned the area for movement and tried to push farther back in the rocks. It was quiet now. Whatever had cried out was gone, probably dead. At first light, she’d figure out how to get off this ledge.
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There was a slight sound. She tipped her head forward, straining to hear. It was coming from the rocks on the side of the wall and it was getting louder. Something moved in the dark, climbing steadily upward toward her. Her heart picked up its pace. Was it the Tracker or something else? Squinting, she tried to make out the shape. Somehow, she managed to squeeze even farther back into the crevice, trying to make herself as small as possible. Her breath came in short pants. She had to calm down. She tried to steady her breathing but her heart ignored her, continuing to pound loudly.
Yellow eyes gleamed up from the rock, straight at her. Sharp, white teeth flashed in the night. Predator’s teeth. She tried to swallow but her throat was dry. It knew she was there but could it reach her in the rocks?
“Little One, it me. Mirra,” whispered the Tracker.
She exhaled, her body melting against the stone as if someone had removed her bones. The Tracker hadn’t hurt her. Yet. That one word slammed into her head, vanquishing her relief.
“I hear you heart beating. You learn control fear or fear control you.” Mirra pulled herself onto the ledge. She brushed off the dust from her climb. “Found Gaar-Mine. We go. Come.” She held out her hand.
She hesitated, not wanting to move from the safety of the rocks, but the Tracker could force her. No reason to make the creature angry. She placed her hand in Mirra’s furry paw. Mirra yanked and she flew forward, slamming into the Tracker, who stumbled backward, one foot dropping off the ledge. She threw her weight back, pulling Mirra with her. Her spine smashed against the cold stone as the Tracker’s heavy body flattened her.
Mirra’s breath came in shallow gasps. “Long fall. You save Mirra.”
She swallowed. If she’d let go, she’d be free of the Tracker. Of course, she’d still be stuck on the ledge.
Mirra stepped back and turned around. “Climb on. We go now.”
She placed her hands on the Tracker’s shoulders, scrunching her fingers into the soft fur. Mirra reached behind and boosted her up. She tightened her legs around the Tracker’s waist as Mirra walked to the edge of the rock and turned around. She hung suspended over nothing, clinging to the Tracker’s back. She refused to look down. She stared forward, focusing on the rocks ahead. Her life was in Mirra’s hands now. Who was she kidding? It had been since their first encounter. Mirra bent and dropped her feet over the side, starting the slow descent back to the forest floor. She buried her face in warm fur and prayed to Araldo.
It seemed like only a few moments when the Tracker pushed back and landed on the ground. She sighed. At least she was off the wall. She started to climb off the Tracker’s back when Mirra grasped her legs, long claws softly scratching her thighs.
“Stay. Long trip. Faster like this.”
She tightened her grip and Mirra took off on all fours, racing over the ground. It was amazing how the Tracker could easily maneuver on only its two-back legs or use all four. No other creature could do that.
The speed of their travel took her breath away. It was too fast. There was no way that Mirra could dodge the obstacles at this pace. They headed straight into the heavy brush. She buried her face in the Tracker’s neck, sure they were going to crash, but as the moments sped by and nothing happened she lifted her head. They were flying through the forest, the Tracker leaping over small clumps of bushes and shifting slightly to avoid the larger ones. Trees whizzed by, their branches scraping over them, although she seldom felt their sting, safe on Mirra’s back.
The terrain changed and they slowed. It was muddy and Mirra could not move as quickly. She relaxed a bit. The speed had been fun, but she was glad to be going at a slower pace. Suddenly, the Tracker sprang upward, extending her claws and grasping onto a tree branch. Her stomach dropped to her toes and she couldn’t hold back a small squeak. The Tracker launched itself into the air and once again she buried her face in Mirra’s neck. The Tracker’s muscles flexed and stretched under her hands, ribs expanding and contracting with each mighty breath. What was Mirra doing? They seemed to be airborne most of the time. She couldn’t help it. She had to see. She raised her head. They were soaring through the trees far above the ground. Mirra leapt from tree to tree, limb to limb, the branches groaning their protest at the sudden weight only to bounce in relief as they sprang forward to their next location. When there wasn’t a branch to latch onto, the Tracker would land on the tree trunk digging her claws into the bark like it was sand. Her heart pounded hard and fast, but she refused to shut her eyes or bury her face, unwilling to miss a single moment.
As they continued their journey, she rested her face against Mirra’s back, inhaling the now familiar musky smell. It was a more pleasant odor than she’d initially thought. Mirra began traveling on the ground again and the scenery blurred as her eyes started to droop.
“Wake, Little One.”
She forced her eyes open against the gravity of sleep. They’d stopped. Mirra slowly straightened to stand on her back feet, panting heavily. She moved her arms from the Tracker’s chest to her neck.
Mirra pulled on her legs. “Walk.”
Still groggy with sleep, she unfolded her legs and slid to the ground. She stumbled backward. Mirra grabbed her arm to steady her. She smiled her thanks at the Tracker. Mirra patted her on the head and then walked a few steps away.
They were in the deep forest. The trees towered above her. Daylight would have a difficult time reaching the ground here. The earth smelled dank and musty like a house closed off for too long. The cold darkness of the night would only give way to cool shadows even in the summer sun.
Mirra stretched and sank her claws into the nearest tree. She scraped downward leaving long scratches along the trunk. She then crouched and began running her paws along the large roots that rose above the ground. She pressed inward with a claw and a click echoed in the night. A small panel on the trunk popped open. Mirra stood and pushed the opening wider, revealing a doorway. The Tracker bent and stepped inside the tree, motioning for her to follow.
She hesitated. Was this where it ended? She took a deep breath. If the Tracker wanted to eat her it would have done so by now, unless Mirra didn’t want to cart around a carcass. She did travel better alive. Still, she had no choice but to cooperate. She moved forward, dragging her feet.
When Mirra closed the door behind her a sharp click pinged off the sides of the tree. She paused, letting her eyes adjust. Outside had been dark but there had still been tiny glimmers from the stars, filtering through the canopy of the trees. In here the blackness was absolute.
“Come.” said Mirra.
Mirra sounded farther away. She didn’t want to be alone. Not here. She reached out, grasping for contact and brushed against fur. She latched on to Mirra’s strong arm. “I can’t see.”
Mirra stilled. The Tracker’s steady breathing and the warm, soft fur under her hand were the only things grounding her in a world of nothingness. Was this what death was like? Nothing but darkness. Hopefully, she wouldn’t find out in a few moments.
Slowly, images began to form out of the black. There was the solid line of the inside of the tree. Crevices ran in rivulets up the walls. If she reached out on either side, she could touch the wood. There was a passage in front with a walkway. Stones, square and smooth were under her feet.
“You see now?” asked Mirra.
She nodded and let go of the Tracker’s arm. Mirra led the way down the passage. She followed, stretching out her arms on either side to run along the trunk. It was incredible in here. The crevices and craters gave way to smooth wood as she walked along. The smells of dank earth were replaced by smoke.
“We close,” said Mirra, quickening her pace.
She struggled to keep up, stumbling over rocks in the path. The shadows became more structured, more distinct. There was light ahead and warmth. Mirra turned a corner and disappeared. What if she lost the Tracker? Could she find her way back out to the forest? Even if she did, she had no idea where she was. She chased after Mirra, flying around the bend and then skidding to a halt as light exploded into her vision, blinding her with its brightness. There was a fire and a huge, hairy man-like creature held Mirra in his grasp. It was a Handler. She’d seen one once before at the Tracker camp, right before it had killed a Tracker.