Conrad waded into the swamp without hesitation and without waiting for me to tell him where Kappa had been. The water was up to his mid-calves when he stopped and slowly turned his head. Anyone else would think he was looking for something. I knew better.

“There were others out here,” he confirmed.

I walked to the edge of the water. “How many?”

Conrad closed his eyes for a second, then opened them and turned to me. “There were at least three. There might have been more.”

“Can you follow Kappa?”

“For now. I know his scent, but I don’t know how long it’ll last. It’s harder to follow through the water. We have to move fast.”

I ran into the water and sloshed over to his side. “Ready when you are.”

“Can you keep up?”

“Less talking, more moving!”

Conrad took off at a fast pace. I ran after him.

Since we were following the lurkers, not the shallows, there was no telling what kind of path would be under my feet. I was lucky when the water was only up to my legs. Sometimes the slick silt would shift under my shoes, and I'd drop into the cool water, soaking another two or three inches of my shirt, the sound of my thrashing melding in with all the other noises of the swamp.

I’d press my lips together to avoid getting any mud in my mouth. Sometimes Conrad had to stop and pull me out.

It was worse when I stepped into nothing at all. The ground would disappear, and suddenly I’d be swimming, my soaked clothes pulling me down, fighting every inch until we reached a shallower area. Conrad started warning me when it was coming.

I didn’t speak. I didn’t want to do anything that might distract him. I knew from how often he paused that it was a difficult tracking job.

Through the water and over the small bits of dry land, we charged.

Well…Conrad charged. I struggled. But I managed to keep up!

During one of those agonizingly long breaks where Conrad had to hunt down the scent, I said, “Do you know where we’re going?”

Conrad kept his nose pointed toward the swamp in front of us. “I know what direction we’re going in. I don’t know the destination. We’re heading north toward the center of the preserve. Ayla never pointed it out on the map.”

“You….you’re keeping all that information in your head?”

“Yes.”

“The map, the locations she gave you, where we’re going—”

“Where we’ve been, the landmarks, the layout of the preserve—yes.”

“All of it?”

“All of it.”

I pursed my lips in a silent whistle.

“This way,” Conrad said. He charged on.

I grit my teeth to keep back my exhausted groan. There was no time for melodramatics. The Sauvage lurkers had Kappa in their murderous webbed clutches. Tears gathered in my eyes. I wiped them away with my arm as I trudged. No time for them either.

I floundered through the dark water, watching the indigo streaks swirl around my arms and trying desperately not to think about snakes, and while I should have welcomed any chance to rest, I begrudged every second it took to find the trail again. Conrad tried to find Kappa’s scent first. If that failed, he tried to find lurkers whose scents were moving in the direction Kappa’s had been moving. It wasn’t perfect, but he caught enough snatches of Kappa’s scent to know that we were heading the right way.

We were half way across a long, thin island of high ground when Conrad stopped. He raised his hand, palm turned toward me, in a gesture to wait.

When I saw his ears swiveling, I tried to quiet my ragged breathing.

“We’re surrounded,” Conrad whispered.

I spun around, peering into all the empty spaces and shadows left by the trees. “Where are they?” I whispered back.

“I don’t know. I can smell them.”

I tried to wipe the sweat from my palms onto my wet jeans. It didn’t help.

The lurker’s camouflage was good, but it wasn’t that good. We weren’t in the water, and I had played hide-and-seek with Kappa enough to know that I needed to look for the shine of their eyes or—

The thought echoed in my head: I had played hide-and-seek…with Kappa…

Where would Kappa hide?

I looked up.

There were five lurkers in the trees. Three of them were holding spears.

“Above you!” I yelled.

They all jumped at once, wisely and with insulting insight, going for Conrad since he was the biggest threat.

Conrad caught the first lurker, midair, with one hand, causing him to drop his spear. Without pause, Conrad rolled his arm down as he pivoted and tossed the poor thing, underhand, across the swamp.

The second lurker, unarmed, landed on Conrad’s neck and opened his mouth wide, revealing a set of long serrated teeth. Conrad reached up with his left hand, grabbed him by the arm, pulled him over his shoulder, and slammed the lurker on the ground. His small body clenched on impact.

The next two lurkers fared no better. One slashed at Conrad’s face with his spear, only to have it ripped from his hands. Conrad snapped the spear in two by closing his fist over the shaft. The lurker’s friend charged Conrad at the same time. He was scooped up with Conrad’s free hand—the one that wasn’t breaking the spear—and thrown into the other lurker with enough force to send them both flying backwards. Bowling with lurkers.

I felt my scowl before I understood the emotions that had caused it. My stomach was coated in a sick sense of guilt and dismay. This was a massacre. Don’t get me wrong! I was rooting for Conrad—little flag, team colors, and everything!—but it hurt to watch.

The last lurker lunged in before the other two had landed. He drove his spear high into the side of Conrad’s thigh. The wolfman let out a snarl that made my hands tremble. The lurker let go of the spear and backed away while staring at the long white fangs revealed by Conrad’s lifted lip.

Conrad jerked the spear out of his leg, letting out another soul-curling snarl. He stared at the quivering lurker as he snapped off the bloody stone tip.

The lurker shrank down, retracting his limbs and pulling back every fin he had. When he was done, he resembled a brown and green stone who’s every inanimate molecule still managed to fear for its life.

“Conrad,” I said.

Conrad stopped moving. His dark lip relaxed over his fangs.

I wanted to say that was enough—it was enough. The first lurker was still missing. Bowling Ball and his buddy, Pin, were keeping their distance. The only reason I knew the lurker he’d slammed to the ground was still alive was because his limbs twitched every now and then, shifting by less than an inch whenever he tried to move them. The lurker curled up in front of Conrad was liable to have a heart attack.

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But then I saw the blood weeping out of the hole in Conrad’s jeans. On the ground was two halves of a spear, one with a jagged stone spearhead, as long as my hand, still attached. They had been trying to take out Conrad’s eyes. They had been trying to kill him. Conrad’s fist was still closed tightly over the bloody spearhead he’d pulled out of his leg.

I couldn’t say it. I swallowed and walked up behind him, pausing there, wishing I knew what to say, or if there was anything I could do about all the emotions crammed into my chest, swirling together in a goopy mix.

Nada.

I put my hand on his arm for a moment. Then I walked over and knelt down in front of the last lurker.

Scaredy-stone uncurled enough to raise his head so he could look at me. We watched each other. Black eyes to black eyes.

“Where’s my friend?” I demanded.

The lurker’s eyes widened.

“Where’s Kappa?” I raised my voice. “He’s my friend, and you took him! Where is he?”

The lurker only stared.

I raised my voice again. I knew it was useless. If he couldn’t understand me, there would be no point. The only thing yelling at him could communicate was how furious, and terrified, and sad I was. I didn’t care. Maybe I wanted him to know. More likely, I couldn’t hold it in.

“If you hurt him—” My emotions got caught behind the lump in my throat. I couldn’t have finished the threat, even if I’d had one in mind. When I could speak, I repeated, “He’s my friend—mine.” My voice reached new and hysterical heights: “Where is he?”

The lurker’s fins were slowly peeling away from his head. Otherwise, all I got was a wide, black-eyed stare.

I couldn’t stand it. I pushed away from him and rose to my feet, sniffing and wiping at my eyes even though they hadn’t teared up.

“It’s no use,” I grumbled to Conrad.

“Did you think it would be?” he asked.

I frowned so deep that my heart bent down with it. The only answer I could give was a weak shrug.

I sniffed again. “The scent?”

Conrad turned his head away. He was scowling and his ears were low. “The blood has a strong smell. I don’t know if I can find it now, Emerra.”

“Oh geez,” I mumbled. “Your leg. Can you walk?”

“Don’t worry about the leg. I’m a lycanthrope.” He threw down the spearhead he was holding and took me by the arm, pulling me in the direction we’d been going when we were jumped. “Come on. The water will wash off some of the blood. Maybe it’s not too late.”

We went on. Conrad was right about his leg. It wasn’t long before his limp was gone, but the fight had robbed us of several precious minutes. The scent became harder and harder to follow, and we had to be on guard in case there were any more ambushes.

“They’re following us,” Conrad said.

“More lurkers?”

“No. The ones we fought.”

“What?” My brain whirled. “Are they going to attack us again?”

“I don’t think so. They aren’t getting any closer, but I can smell them around us.”

I put those lurkers from my mind. I was worried about what the other lurkers were doing to Kappa, and that worry was so big it eclipsed everything else. There wasn’t room in my head for any other concerns. Besides, Conrad had proved he was more than a match for that group.

A few minutes later, Conrad said, “I think we’re getting closer.”

“You can smell Kappa?”

“I can smell more lurkers.”

“How many more?”

“At least a hundred.” Conrad turned to look at me. “I think we’ve found their main nesting area.”

“You mean the one that Ayla said we’d get attacked for barging into?” I said.

“That’s the one.”

Okay. Maybe there was room for one other concern.

I took a step closer. “And you think there’s a hundred of them in there?”

“At least,” Conrad said. “There could be a lot more.”

I set my jaw. “Let’s go.”

A gentle incline led out of the water toward a crowd of trees that leaned over the entrance, creating a lofted archway hung with Spanish moss. The trail between the trees first rose, then sloped down into an irregular basin, maybe five feet deep, set into the earth. More trees grew in it and around it, making it impossible to see how big the basin actually was. Despite the fact it dipped into the ground, in the bottom of it, there were only puddles that blended into the black-brown mud.

I couldn’t tell if the lurkers had dug the basin or simply taken advantage of one that had naturally formed, but I suspected they had augmented it. There were too many convenient spaces around the trunks of the trees, and serpentine walkways led off to open-air dens or root-covered lairs.

And, everywhere, I could see eyes watching us—scores of them, some backing away at our approach, some following in our wake. They disappeared in the shadows, only to glint again when our angle changed. The sheer number of them, and their unblinking intensity, made me feel like a thousand spider legs were dancing over my spine.

In my hurry, I almost stumbled over a nest still cradling a family of lurkers. The largest lurker’s eyes never moved from me, even while he gathered the smaller ones close. The smallest was only twelve inches tall. He stared at me too. The terror I saw in his eyes filled my whole body with a lonely whimper.

A few feet further on, we ran into two sentries. They bared their teeth and jabbed their spears at us.

“Conrad—” I said.

“I’ll try not to hurt them,” he grumbled.

In one second, he’d taken and destroyed their spears. Before the lurkers could figure out how to react, Conrad swept them aside with one massive hand and pinned them both to the wall, his long claws gouging out bits of mud.

I walked past. Conrad let them go and followed me. When they lunged toward us, Conrad turned and let out a growl that resonated with the cadence of my shudder. The sentries stopped where they were.

There were more lurkers now. They poured in from all around us without ever getting close. I could see their shadows as they jumped from tree to tree above our heads. Others scampered along the tops of the five-foot walls. Some crawled along the path behind us.

The hall we were in widened in front of a large crooked cypress. Its trunk was split in the middle, as if some huge monster had once tried to push it over and only managed to unearth half of it before giving up. Judging by how old the tree looked, the monster might have been a dinosaur. Part of the trunk was still rooted deep into the ground. The rest sat in midair, creating a jagged overhang above an opening. The touch of hundreds of lurkers had worn the edges of the wood until they were smooth.

The only way forward was through that opening.

I didn’t even think about it. I could hear noises coming from the other side, and I thought some of them sounded like they were coming from Kappa.

Behind me Conrad called, “Wait!—” but I was already gone.

On the other side of the tree was a space that could be called a room. It was larger than any of the dens or lairs we’d seen before—large enough to hold the crowd of lurkers that had gathered. There was no roof, but the trees grew in a tight ring around it with earth walls between them.

I heard another high-pitched cry. My eyes flew to the center of the room, and I spotted a bit of blue lost in the sea of brown and green.

“Kappa!” I ran toward him, ignoring the lurkers around me.

Behind me, Conrad was using his panlinguistic vocalizations to make sure they knew that attacking me would be a bad decision.

As soon as Kappa heard his name, he turned his head. “Mera!”

There were four lurkers holding him. Two of them yanked on his arms. One of them tried to press his head down.

Fury flooded me, racing down my limbs, giving me a burst of speed. The lurkers threw themselves out of my way. Kappa snapped at the guard trying to hold his head, and flailed his arm enough to dislodge another. Then I was there, scooping him up in my arms, pulling him close to my chest. The last of his captors stumbled away. One fell back. Conrad arrived. He stood back-to-back with me—arms away from his sides, his claws flexed, slowly turning his head to stare down the whole room. The lurker that had landed on his butt scuttled backward to get away.

Kappa buried his face in my shirt and whimpered. I wanted to ask him if he was okay and tell him that everything was going to be all right—but before I could, I had to deal with the fact that I had blindly rushed into the middle of the largest room in the lurker’s hideout, ensuring there would be plenty of space for them to swarm us.

The lurkers were small and weak—but there were so freaking many of them! Conrad could…probably? maybe?…handle them, given enough time and depending on how many of them were armed, but chances were high that he would be badly hurt, and it was guaranteed that they would be. That would kill any hope we had of being able to help them.

My heart took a dive while a dismal laugh jumped into my throat.

Right! That’s what we were here to do! Help them. And weren’t we doing a fine job of it?

The front row of lurkers crept toward us.

“Mera,” Conrad said, “when you see a chance, go for the opening.”

I squeezed Kappa to my chest.

There was a loud cry from the trees, a rustle of branches, then a figure landed in front of me with one arm braced against the ground to help absorb the impact. It was a lurker, slightly larger than Kappa. He was facing away from us.

For a wild moment, I thought he’d made a dramatic entrance to fight alongside us, like some superhero—Lurker-man!

Then I recognized the brown patch that completely covered his left eye. It was Scaredy-stone, the last lurker that had tried to ambush Conrad. It was difficult to imagine him coming to save the day.

The lurkers all stopped to watch him.

He stood, put his arms up, webbed palms out, and growled while showing his teeth.

“Why?”

My head whipped around, trying to find whoever had spoken. There was no one there but me and Conrad, and Conrad’s voice wasn’t that high.

“Mera?” Conrad whispered.

I didn’t answer.

Scaredy-stone slapped the muddy ground twice—two splashes—and pointed at me.

As one, all the lurkers turned their attention to me. Even Scaredy-stone turned his head to watch.

Utterly bewildered, all I could do was blink.

The other lurkers frowned and glared at Scaredy-stone.

He scowled, hissed at them with his teeth closed, then said, in a high, excited voice, “She talks!”

My eyes widened. I glanced down at Kappa and back at Conrad, but there was no sign that they’d heard him.

Oh, geez.

The lurkers were all watching me again. This time I knew what they wanted.

I swallowed and said in a loud, clear voice, “First things first. Kappa”—I jerked my finger down, emphatically pointing to the bog-monster pressed against my shirt—“is ours. None of you ever touch him again!”

It sounded like the whole room gasped at once.