Daniel dropped back into the nest. “There’s more of them. We’re trapped.” He looked at the girl, trying to keep his voice calm. “What’s your name?”
“Kora,” she said, through trembling lips. “How many are there. Can you fight them off?”
“At least seven, and no. Not without more weapons.” To Ram, he said, “Work on cutting her loose. I’ll keep an eye on the snapjaws. We’ll take it from there.”
He nodded and got to work on the webs.
Back in the clearing, a scuffle had broken out between two of the giant insects. Deciding he was still relatively safe for now, Daniel watched. One of them was a fair amount larger than the other, so the conflict didn’t last long. The smaller of the two hissed and wheezed, striking at the larger with its claws, and then retreated quickly into its nest. The larger followed it up to the edge, and then stopped. It circled the lip of the tunnel several times, and then it abandoned its pursuit and went down into its own nest.
Over the next five minutes, while Daniel waited, he saw that the other two acted similarly. They went in and out of their own nests, but they never set foot in the nest of another, even when several more mismatched fights took place. Could this be some form of innate respect of foreign property that this species practiced? If so, they could use it to their advantage, for it meant that they would never have to be with more than one of these creatures in any given tunnel at the same time.
He returned to the others just as Ram snapped the last sticky tendril holding Kora against the wall. “If we hurry, we can slip past them and make it to the cabin safely.”
Ram nodded and handed the knife back to him. “It’s a bit nasty.”
Daniel wiped the webby strands on his pant leg and slid the knife into its place in his belt. “I’ll go first, then Kora, then you, Ram. Be quick, and don’t fall behind.”
Kora shook her head. “I’m not going back out there.” Tendons tensed in her neck.
“I promise you’ll be fine,” said Daniel.
She didn’t budge.
He turned to Ram for help, and was about to tell him to just grab her and run, when the light coming from the tunnel’s mouth was blocked off.
Kora drew in a sharp breath, but Daniel clamped a hand over her mouth before she could scream. “Convinced yet?”
Her whole body was rigid, and her eyes met his not just with fear, but with a wild glint that bordered on panic.
“Come on, let’s move. We can get past it if we hurry.”
Kora was locked in place; she didn’t budge. Daniel could tell she was trying to retain her composure. “No,” she whispered.
Daniel rolled his eyes. “This is ridiculous.” He grabbed her arm and, despite her loud protests, dragged her towards the tunnel’s entrance.
Then the snapjaw dropped from the hole and landed with a sharp clack on all fours, blocking off the tunnel almost completely.
Daniel jumped back, and Kora screamed and lurched away from his grip.
The beast was big—almost reaching Daniel’s waist. Its pale eyes glimmered in the half-dark, and its beak, still slathered in deer blood, snapped viciously. It stared and wheezed at the intruders in its nest, as though considering its next move.
Daniel fumbled to yank the knife from his belt. He didn’t dare take his eyes of the snapjaw. If it decided to attack, there wouldn’t be much he could do about it.
A fist-sized stone flew past him and smacked the insect on the snout. The snapjaw hissed and recoiled.
Ram, from the back of the nest, hurled two more projectiles at it, both of which found their mark and forced the snapjaw to retreat a coupe steps. “Drive it back out!” He picked up a fourth stone and slowly advanced.
Daniel brandished the knife in a clenched and, stepping as close as he dared to the razor sharp beak and barbed claws, jabbed it at the creature’s face. Ram joined him, shouting at it as if it were a stray dog and continuing to launch rocks at it.
Fortunately, the snapjaw had apparently feasted enough on the surface and had little interest in another fight, for it snapped its beak at them once, trilled and hissed, and backed out of the nest.
Daniel motioned at Kora, who watched intently from the shadows. “Now’s our chance. Come with us, or stay and get eaten. Your choice.” Without waiting for a response, he clambered on his hands and knees up the tunnel, pulled himself out, and quickly rolled into the grass before the other snapjaws caught sight of him. Ram emerged right behind him, and, to his relief, Kora was on his heels. They lay flat beside him.
“Keep quiet,” he whispered, “And stay low. We’ll make a run for the cabin when I say. As long as they don’t see us, we’ll—”
Kora didn’t give him a chance to finish. She took one look through the grass at the snapjaws finishing up the deer carcass and bolted from cover.
Immediately, the snapjaws on the losing side of the skirmish over fresh meat caught sight of her and, like hunting dogs after a rabbit, gave chase.
“Seriously?” Daniel stabbed the dirt with the point of his knife. Abandoning the safety of the grass, he took off after her. Ram wasn’t far behind.
It was a quick sprint around to the front—Daniel flung the cabin door open, shoved a trembling Kora inside, and slammed it shut behind them. Ram didn’t have quite as much time, and resorted to diving through the gaping hole where the window used to be.
“Help me cover it up,” said Daniel. He risked a glance outside. The snapjaws were hot in pursuit.
Daniel and Ram grabbed the old table and tipped it on its side against the window just as the insects reached the cabin. One of them tried to bash through the table, while a handful more skittered up the walls and across the failing roof, searching for a way in. Given the condition of the cabin, it wouldn’t take them long.
Kora followed the shifting shadows with upturned eyes. “We’re trapped!”
Daniel bit back a sarcastic remark. “If we go back out, we’ll be dead in seconds.”
A claw punched through the roof. Dust and splinters showered down. A harsh trill called the others to that spot, and more claws scratched and hammered at the roof.
“The cellar!” Ram ran over to the hole in the floor and ripped away the rotting planks covering it.
Daniel snapped his fingers. “Of course. It’s got to tap into one of the nests—that’s how they got him,” he pointed at the skeleton, “in the first place.”
“You want us to go back in there?” Kora said, already backing away from the hole.
The snapjaws on the roof were making quick work of the beams and boards. The lead insect was already trying to squeeze through. The snapping beak sent a shiver down Daniel’s neck. They had to move fast. “It’ll be empty,” he said, “Just go!”
Ram had already tossed the skeletal remains out of the way and was halfway down the stairs. “I see light!”
Daniel all but threw Kora down after him. “Follow Ram, and don’t look back.”
Just then, the timbers above them gave way, and a whole section of the roofing collapsed into the main room on the other side of the fallen tree. Two, three, and then a fourth snapjaw dropped in, shaking off wood shards.
Kora half ran, half fell down the stairs and collided with Ram at the bottom.
The snapjaws gathered themselves and focused in on him like hawks.
“Daniel, come on!” said Ram.
Daniel grabbed a loose floorboard and whacked at the stovepipe until the rusted sections split apart. He got a grip on the legs and dragged the whole thing back towards the cellar stairs. “Keep going!”
The snapjaws charged, their bloodthirsty trills drowning out any response Ram may have given him.
Daniel heaved with all his strength, and the stove groaned across the wood floor. He reached the hole, dropped down a couple steps, and, just as the snapjaws reached him, tipped the stove down onto him. The weight of it made him lose his footing, and he rolled the rest of the way down, just before the stove sealed off the opening with a resounding cr
ash.
At the bottom of the stairs, Daniel picked himself up. “That should hold them back a while. Let’s get out of here.”
Ram slapped him across the back, relief splashed on his face. “Good thinking.” He took off towards the back of the empty cellar. “This way—there’s a tunnel.”
The three of them clambered out into the dappled sunlight of the forest. Behind them, the snapjaws still wreaked havoc in the cabin, but for now at least, they were safe.
Daniel took off away from the clearing, the other two close behind him.
“Where are we going?” Ram asked.
“Don’t know,” said Daniel between heavy breaths. “For now, we just run.”
* * *
Tess stood beside the sole cot in the recently erected morgue tent at the edge of the mountain campsite. She didn’t know if it actually qualified as a morgue, since there was only one body in it. If she had her way, this corpse would be the last, and the whole company—Preceptors and townspeople alike—would be out of there by tomorrow evening.
Low ranked Preceptors worked on the tracks at all hours, cutting away twisted portions of bullhead rail and laying down new sleepers. Now that reinforcements had arrived, she could delegate some of her authority to Maravek’s second man, a silent type by the name of Andrale. She had organized the men into three groups: a crew of ten devoted all their energy to repairing the tracks, a second group of five armed Preceptors stood guard at the train, and the remaining eleven, herself included, stayed up at the camp. Their duty was to protect and serve the townspeople until the journey could be renewed.
But Tess wasn’t preoccupied with the townspeople at the moment. Her attention was on the corpse laying straight with its arms at its sides on the cot beside her—the first man she had lost in action since she was promoted to Second Preceptor.
Ider Grasp. She hadn’t been close to him—he was a new recruit from one of the nearby mountain provinces—but his death had impacted everyone. The murder of Ider Grasp was a tragedy to his friends and family back home, a blow to the morale of his fellow Preceptors, a spark of fear to the townspeople, and a major inconvenience to her.
Her muscles tensed as she clenched her fist behind her back. Why had Daniel done this? What could possibly have motivated him to murder a man who was serving and protecting him? The memory of Daniel Black’s seemingly innocent brown eyes staring back at her as he stood there, holding the branch and the knife, brought an angry scowl to her face.
The knife was gone—Daniel had taken it. That much was clear. But why? Had Daniel killed Ider simply to obtain a knife before he made his foolish escape? She shook her head. No. Nobody was that inhuman. And besides, Ider’s gun was still in his belt. Why would Daniel choose a knife over a gun? There had to be some other explanation. But what was it?
A headache blossomed in her forehead, and she rubbed it with her fingertips.
Someone entered the tent behind her, blocking the light momentarily. She swiveled her head. A young woman stood at attention, sporting an impeccably clean uniform. “You sent for me?”
Tess motioned her in. “Yes, Moriah. Preceptor Grasp’s body will be incinerated within the hour. Make sure everything is prepared. Oh, and send for Maravek when you get a moment. Thank you.”
Moriah nodded crisply and strode out of the tent. Tess allowed herself a little smile as she watched the girl leave. She reminded her of herself when she had just graduated from the academy. Poised and professional, as a Preceptor should be.
But she had other matters to attend to that were more important than fond reminiscing. She trusted Moriah to ensure that the ceremony be as simple and short as possible without being disrespectful. In the meantime, she had some unpleasant yet unavoidable paperwork to tend to.
Her headache wasn’t getting any better.
* * *
Daniel had no idea where they were, nor which direction they were going. The trees were too thick overhead for him to find the sun, and he had lost all sense of bearing since their mad dash from the cabin. Right now, his only concern was getting as far away from the nesting area as they could, and getting there as quickly as he could lead them.
They had been running for a long time, though he had lost track of that as well. The rugged terrain stunted their progress more than he was comfortable with, so he drove them on at a relentless pace.
At last, when he was sure he could hear nothing but his own pounding footsteps and labored breathing, he decided they’d gone far enough. Daniel stumbled to a halt and caught himself on the bow of a tree to stop himself from pitching to the forest floor. A pain flamed in his left shoulder; he hadn’t noticed it until now.
Kora was right behind him. Constantly glancing over her shoulder, she kept close to Daniel without saying a word. She seemed more in control of herself now than when the snapjaws had been close at hand, yet the gleam of fear remained in her eyes.
Daniel watched her as she leaned back against a mossy tree, breathing heavily through her nose until the exertion of their mad flight wore off. He couldn’t help but wonder what she had gone through to merit such a paranoid disposition. He had questions he wanted to ask her, but he neither had the will nor the lung capacity to voice them quite yet.
Ram thundered into view a moment later and doubled over with his hands on his knees. Between gulps of oxygen, he muttered something about cardio, but most of it was indecipherable. After a few brief moments, he dropped the backpack of provisions at his feet and straightened up. “Any ideas where we are?”
Daniel glumly looked around them. The forest here looked the same as it did everywhere else in the lower levels of the Untamables. Ever since leaving the train tracks last night, they had kept an approximate westward course, but the snapjaws had twice forced them to alter their course. They were lost.
Daniel wiped sweat from his brow and drew closer to Ram. “We need to make for higher ground,” he said, “And figure out which way leads to Obenon.” He looked uneasily into the shadows in the trees surrounding them. “I want to get out of the forest. We’ve run into nothing but danger since we left the tracks, and we can’t afford any more setbacks. Litty’s already been alone for a full day.”
“That’s a start,” said Ram, “But who’s to say the higher reaches of the mountains are any safer than the forests down here? I’ll have you know, we’re in the heart of the wilderness, and if it’s not snapjaws, it’ll be something else.”
Daniel ran his fingers through his matted hair. Ram was right—the Untamables were full of unknown dangers. He couldn’t possibly know what they might encounter should they venture higher up into the clefts and crags, and yet gaining altitude was the only way he could think of to get a sense of where they were. “There’s another matter. What are we to do about Kora?”
The girl stood by her tree, watching them out of the corner of her eye, as though she knew they were talking about her.
Ram merely shrugged.
“We don’t know anything about her,” Daniel continued, “Though she’s not from Obenon, that’s for sure. And she’s no Preceptor, either.”
“She’s not the bravest person I’ve ever met,” said Ram dryly, “But I suppose she can’t be blamed for that, given the circumstances. Maybe it’s best she tag along with us for the time being.”
Daniel shook his head. “I don’t like the thought of that. This was meant to be my mission, and while I’m certainly glad to have you with me, one more person is just one more distraction. Especially…” He trailed off.
Ram raised an eyebrow. Then he rummaged through the backpack and withdrew the two canteens. “Either way,” he said, unscrewing the cap, “None of us are going anywhere until we’ve found fresh water.” He shook the canteens. Both were empty.
Daniel scowled, but he couldn’t argue the fact. Even if they decided to climb higher, it would be foolish to set out without water, and any running streams were likely to be here, in the valleys. And yet the more time they spent going in likely circles as the
y had been, the more time Litty had to spend on her own. He dug his toe into the soft dirt and evergreen needles. All these factors swirled around in his head like a chaotic whirlpool, rendering any attempts at decision making next to impossible.
The crunching of dry leaves indicated Kora’s timid approach from behind. Daniel turned to face her, and immediately noticed a change in her countenance. Her eyes were calm, her face was composed, and for the first time since their encounter with the snapjaws, she seemed to be rid of the fear that had thus far dominated her behavior.
She stopped a few steps away from them and avoided eye contact. “I can help you,” she stated in a matter-of-fact tone. “Though,” she added shyly, as though in afterthought, “I don’t know where you’re going.”
Ram shot Daniel a glance before turning to Kora. “We were actually just talking—”
“Why would you help us?” Daniel said, cutting him off. “You don’t know us, and we don’t know you.”
“You’re right,” said Kora, “You don’t. But you helped me anyways. I—I know the mountains well. Take me with you, and I can guide you.”
Daniel paused to think over her offer. He leaned in to Ram and spoke in hushed tones so that only he could hear. “I don’t know if to trust her or not. She could be telling the truth, but I can’t shake the feeling she’s just too afraid to be left on her own.”
“Can you blame her?”
“I don’t want her to slow us down.”
Ram rolled his eyes. “I don’t think slowing down would be half bad for us, with all the running away we’ve been doing.” He thought for a moment, and then gestured at the empty water containers. “Test her.”
Daniel nodded. It was a good idea. He turned back to Kora. “We need fresh water before we do anything else. Can you find a stream?”
Kora nodded eagerly.
“Then we’ll follow you. Once we fill our canteens and wash off a bit, we’ll talk.” He reached down for the backpack. “I’ll take a turn with it,” he said to Ram. However, when he tried to lift it, the pain in his shoulder seared down his arm, and he dropped it with a grimace.
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