“N-No thanks,” I squeaked, failing to mask the slight tremor in my voice. I was attempting to radiate composure and control, but my traitorous body scooted a little closer to Haver, seeking the safety of company.

She held a skewer of charred desert rat out towards us. Technically it was the idiot’s half-eaten meat skewer. He had abandoned it though, and she had picked it up. Now she shrugged at my refusal and took a bite out of the rat.

“Stop. Talking. To. It.” Haver hissed at me. He was terrified, almost as terrified as I was. He was trying, and failing, to get her to leave us alone by playing dead. He was doing a worse job at it than the Zee was at playing alive. No matter how horrifying this situation was, curling up into a ball and pretending everything was fine like he was doing right now, wasn’t going to help us.

“She stole our fire, Haver,” I argued, poking at his belly while trying to find a way out of this mess. I had to keep thinking, keep us one step ahead of the Zee girl, and then maybe we’d make it out alive.

We weren’t one step ahead. We were at least five steps behind. She’d held out that skewer of meat in the exact same way I had earlier when defending myself. The intent might have been different, but the gesture was identical. Mimicry.

This was like one of those urban legends. Smart Zees. We should run. My idiot guide had insisted we run. Without our gear that would be suicidal. All of it was still sitting there, next to our fire, the fire we had abandoned when she approached. Her fire now. So we waited here, a good 50 feet out of her reach, and prayed against our better judgment that she would leave.

My prodding at Haver finally found a ticklish spot. He shot up from the ground and gave me a withering glare. Another accusatory scowl came from the direction of our camp. More mimicry. I gulped. This Zee out glowered even Haver.

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“Okay, okay,” I admitted, glancing from Haver to the frilly pink Zee and back, trying to appease both of my adversaries at the same time. “I offered our fire, she took it, and we ran away over here.”

Haver gave me a spiteful nod at that. She repeated his gesture once more. For the first time, Haver wasn’t too preoccupied with his own terror to notice her mimicry. He blanched, white as a sheet, and threw up.

“Oh, good, you noticed it as well.” I patted his back in an attempt to reassure him. “She’s smart see, so I’m trying to negotiate us a place at our own fire.”

In response to my statement, the Zee patted the ground next to her in the same way I was patting Haver’s back. By now I really wasn’t sure anymore how much of her behavior was mere imitation. All of her movements still had that strange lack of coordination that was so typical of Zees. At the same time there were all these little extras: using mimicked gestures for different purposes, the way she almost appeared to understand us, the casual shrugging … that last one, absolutely not copied behavior.

And that right there was the problem. I was negotiating with something intelligent. The negotiations were going smoothly, too smoothly. She hadn’t really wanted us to leave the fire in the first place, I think. Yes, I am a genius; Zees do not want their prey to run away. Praise me already.

No, the really tough part was negotiating with my own fear and trepidation. “Um... thanks... but... sorry, I can’t,” I offered to the Zee girl still waiting for my response. “He,” I stopped fidgeting and pointed two thumbs towards my still-heaving guide, “is too scared.”

See. Diplomacy. Polite acceptance and refusal stuffed into one single, neat package, all the while hiding my real intentions. Or fears. Suck a dick on that, tutor Dalenar.

The Zee wasn’t as impressed with my diplomatic eloquence as I had hoped. She threw up her hands in such an outward display of disgust that even I couldn’t improve on it, tossed the remains of her meal into the fire, and stomped off.

The stomping off was more shuffling than stomping, but the intent was still there. Definitely not mimicry.

On the plus side, we were still alive?