TRINITY GROANED AND PULLED the blanket over her head. Whatever Mom was cooking smelled delicious, but she didn’t want to move. It was warm and comfortable under the soft fur. Fur? She didn’t own any fur. She yanked the blanket down. She wasn’t home and she wasn’t safe.

“Sleep well?” asked Gaar.

She sat up and nodded, her eyes drawn to Mirra who lay in the corner, gnawing on something gross. She wasn’t sure what it was but it had been alive until recently by the blood on the Tracker’s face and paws. She quickly turned away. Gaar stirred something in a pot over the fire. Her stomach rumbled.

He handed her a bottle of water and a plate filled with fruits and nuts.

“Thank you.” She set the water to the side and the plate on her lap, but her eyes kept drifting back to the pot over the fire. “What are you cooking? It smells really good.”

“It’s not for you,” he said.

Well, that’s rude. She stared at the plate, overflowing with food. She should be grateful. It was more than she’d get in an entire day at home.

He sighed. “You wouldn’t like it. Producers don’t eat meat.”

She didn’t know what meat was, but she was willing to try anything that smelled that good. She glanced up at him. “I might.”

He shrugged. “You are half House Servant.” He took his knife and speared a small chunk of something brown out of the pot. He placed it in a bowl and sliced it in half. He handed her the bowl.

The inside of the lump was pink. She sniffed it, wrinkling her nose. It didn’t smell as good up close. “What is it?”

“Rabbit. Mirra caught several this morning.”

Now, that she knew what it was she could make out a few ears still attached to hunks of fur near the Tracker. She focused on the bowl, nudging the meat with her finger. It was kind of springy. “Guards eat meat, don’t they?” The Producers set traps to keep the rabbits out of their fields and traded the carcasses to the Guards. Her mom used to make her do it, until she’d figured out that if she sprayed her plants with a tonic made from hot peppers, it kept the rabbits out of her fields better than the traps.

“Yes. Everyone does except Producers and Grunts.” He watched her closely.

She handed him the bowl. She liked rabbits. She’d even raised a few orphans. She wasn’t going to eat one. “You’re right. I don’t think I’d like it.”

His lips twitched as he took the bowl. He grabbed the morsels and tossed them in his mouth. When he was done chewing, he said, “Mirra and I had a long talk while you slept.”

Her face heated with embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I’m usually up very early.” She never slept late. She was a hard worker and that meant an early riser. “What time is it?” The inside of the tree allowed no sunlight.

He ignored her question. “Mirra wants to keep you.”

“I’m not…”

He held up his hand. “I don’t. Mirra has a tendency to wander off.”

Mirra tipped her ear toward him and a low growl rumbled through her chest.

“Which means that I’ll be the one stuck taking care of you, and I don’t want the job.”

She stiffened. “I can take care of myself.” If he didn’t want her around, that was fine. She didn’t want to be here.

He grunted. “Years ago, maybe, but not now. There are things out here, unnatural things.”

Her eyes widened. Had the Almightys been telling the truth? She wrinkled her brow. “You’re just trying to scare me. I don’t believe the stories that the Almightys feed us about the dangers in the woods. I’ve been coming into the forest for years and I’ve never seen anything.”

“Until this time.” He spooned some of the food from the pot into the bowl.

She’d seen Mirra and the River-Man this trip. Why had she never encountered anything before? Had she just been lucky? She tossed a couple of nuts in her mouth and dug in her backpack for her bread. There wasn’t much left, but she should contribute to the meal. She tore it in two and offered a chunk to him.

“I have bread.” He walked over to a small alcove.

She put the pieces back in her pack, glad he’d refused. If she convinced them to let her go, she’d need it in the next few days.

He came back to the fire carrying a large brown stone. Her jaw dropped open as he broke off a hunk and handed it to her. This was his bread? She politely took it, her arm dropping a bit from the unexpected weight. How was she supposed to eat this without breaking a tooth? He snapped off a small chunk and put it in his bowl to soak up the juice from the rabbit stew. He smiled at her as she tried to rip off a piece but it was like trying to tear into a rock. She ended up gnawing on an edge just to be polite.

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He began eating. Around mouthfuls he continued. “As I was saying, the forest is no longer safe. If you’re going to stay with us, you’re going to have to practice your survival skills.”

What survival skills? She shook her head. It didn’t’ matter. “I don’t mean to be impolite, but I have to go home.”

“You no go. You see. You stay.”

He glanced at the Tracker and then back at her, frowning. “Mirra wants to show you what happens to your kind when you are taken. She’s sure you’ll change your mind about going back to the camp.”

She sat up straighter. This was great. They were going to help her. “Thank you.”

“Don’t get too excited. I agreed to take you to the Finishing Camp not to the Warehouse District. It’s outside of the forest and we will not go there.”

“I thought you said that they take us to the Finishing Camp? What’s in the Warehouse District?”

He glanced at Mirra who watched them expectantly. He shook his head. Mirra’s eyes narrowed. They were hiding something from her.

“A Producer’s journey usually has two stops. We will show you the first one.”

“Mirra take you…”

“No. You will not leave the forest. The first stop should be enough to change her mind.”

Mirra glared at him and started batting a rabbit skull between her paws. Her stomach churned and she turned back toward Gaar.

“I won’t change my mind. I can’t. I have to go home.”

“We’ll see,” he said.

The dour expression on his face caused her mouth to dry. She took a sip of water. It couldn’t be that bad, could it? They were just trying to scare her, or maybe it only seemed bad to them. After living free in the woods their whole lives, they’d consider being locked in a camp torture. No matter what, she had to finish this and go home. “When do we leave?”

“After breakfast. Where are the Handler and Tracker camps?”

She drew a map in the dirt and used some of the nuts from her plate for large landmarks.

Gaar studied the drawing. “First, we’ll get supplies and then we’ll go to the Tracker camp.”

“Mirra no need supplies. Mirra go now.” She tossed the rabbit skull off to the side.

“Mirra, you know as well as I do that once we free the Trackers and the Handlers, the Almightys will be after us.”

“Mirra no care about Almightys. Mirra kill them all.”

He sighed. “We can’t and you know it. We’ll have to go into hiding and in order to do that we need supplies.”

Mirra huffed and headed for the door.

“Don’t go looking for the Tracker camp. We’ll go together. Promise me.” His voice was stern, commanding.

Mirra shot him a dirty look. “Promise.” She stormed out of the room.

It probably wasn’t wise to bring this up right now, but she’d wasted so much time already. “How long should this take? I only have five more days.”

“Why? Never mind. It doesn’t matter. We can have you home in four, but you’ll change your mind and then I’ll be saddled with you while Mirra gallivants all over the forest. Just like the other times.”

She took a deep breath. “What happened to Mirra’s…the others?” She refused to call herself a pet.

He frowned. “You definitely have House Servant in you. Curiosity is not always a good thing.”

She shrugged and offered him a small smile. This was not the first time that she’d annoyed someone with her questions.

His black eyes focused on her. “They all died.”

The words were like a punch in the gut, knocking the air out of her lungs. Did Mirra get tired of them and kill them? Or maybe, Gaar did while Mirra was away.

“Don’t go imagining all sorts of things. They were too young to be away from their mothers.”

She exhaled. That was good news. Well, not for the others, but definitely for her.

He went back to eating his breakfast. “I may not like babysitting Mirra’s pets but I wouldn’t hurt them.”

“Oh.” The food that she’d eaten sat heavy in her stomach. She didn’t understand why it bothered her so much that he disliked her. She should be used to it by now. “If you don’t want me around why don’t you let me go?”

“Mirra wants you.”

She should shut up, but she couldn’t. Not while he was answering her questions. “Why didn’t she kill me?”

He raised his head, eyes boring into her. “Who knows? Maybe, she wasn’t hungry.”

She shook her head. It was more than that. “Then why does she still want me around? She was hungry this morning. She could have killed me instead of the rabbits.” Sweat trickled down her back. Mirra could have easily slaughtered her while she slept. Then she’d be hacked up in tiny chunks and simmering in the pot. She set her plate aside, no longer hungry.

“You aren’t going to let up are you?” There was a smile in his tone.

“Probably not. Even my father says I ask too many questions.”

He chuckled. “That’s rich coming from a House Servant. The most annoyingly curious creatures I’ve ever met.”

He grew silent. Was he done talking? She needed to know the answer to this question. It could mean life or death for her.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Mirra is getting old,” he said.

“No, I hadn’t. I’m not that familiar with Trackers.” Mirra looked fine to her. The Tracker was still strong and there was no gray in her fur.

“Well, she is. Her breeding days are ending.”

“Then it’s a good thing that we met. Maybe, she can meet another Tracker in the camp and they can have babies.” The idea of Mirra as a mother made her smile.

“Yes. That’s a possibility. However, I think that she considers you her adopted child. I’ve heard of it happening to females that have never had young.”

She wrinkled her nose. She was nothing like Mirra. “Maybe.”

“You asked what I thought.” He sounded offended.

“I’m sure you’re right.” She wasn’t sure about it at all but it was the polite thing to say. She had asked his opinion. “Maybe, once she meets the other Trackers she’ll be more willing to let me go.”

He grunted. “You can hope.”

“I have to go home. No matter what. I can’t let my mom be punished because I left.”

He glanced at her but remained silent for the rest of the meal.

After breakfast, she followed him out of the tree. He carried a pack similar to hers and a quiver full of spears.

As she expected, the sun didn’t shine too bright in this part of the forest, but from its location in the sky it was still early morning.

Mirra dropped from a tree right in front of them. She gasped and stumbled backward. She hadn’t realized the Tracker was up there. Gaar didn’t even flinch.

“We go now?” asked Mirra.

He nodded. “To the Lake of Sins, and we need to move fast. Little One has a schedule to keep.”

She frowned as she crawled on Mirra’s back. He was making fun of her but it was the truth.