The smile vanished. Ducky was propped up against the rock, but Litty was gone.
Daniel jumped up. All thoughts of Kora and Maravek disappeared from his mind like a burst bubble as a sickening panic settled in his stomach. “Litty!”
The forest answered with silence.
A thousand horrible possibilities raced through his mind as he tore from tree to tree, searching the hillside with savage desperation. Preceptors. Snapjaws. Rivers. Caves. For a moment, his vision blurred, and the dizziness almost sent him to the ground. He forced himself to take in a few quick breaths. He refused to lose her again—not to negligence, not to animals, not to anyone. “Litty!”
“Shh.” A whispery voice caused him to whirl around. Litty stepped out from behind a tree a good twenty feet away, a finger raised to her pursed lips. With her other hand, she pointed up. A red squirrel pranced up and down on the branches above her, and she smiled up at it as though meeting a new friend.
Daniel’s panic melted into relief, and then anger. He picked up a stick and threw it at the squirrel, which froze for a second before zipping further into the forest. He rushed over to Litty. “What were you thinking? I told you to stay put! Why do you keep wandering off?”
Litty watched the squirrel go with a forlorn expression, and then her shoulders drooped as she turned back to Daniel.
“Litty, you scared me!” Daniel gripped her little shoulders. “You know you’re supposed to do what I tell you. Do you have any idea—?” He cut himself off.
Litty’s blue eyes brimmed with tears, and her bottom lip stuck out.
Feeling as though all his energy had been drained from him, Daniel collapsed in a clumsy heap and pulled his little sister into a tight squeeze. “I’m sorry, little one,” he said, suddenly finding himself crying as well. “I didn’t mean to shout at you. I was scared. I’m so sorry.”
She wriggled free of him, and he smeared the tears off his face with his thumb. He made sure his voice was gentle before continuing. “Everything I do right now is to keep you safe. There are a lot of bad people out there, and bad things, and I don’t want you to get hurt. Promise me you won’t go off on your own again. Please?”
She nodded, and even though he knew she couldn’t possibly know the extent of the danger they were in, he could tell she meant it. He forced a smile and kissed her on the nose, drawing out a squeaky giggle.
“That’s more like it.”
For a long moment, they were silent. Then Litty stiffened against him, and his head whipped up. He had heard it too.
The breeze carried a new sound their way.
The baying and barking of dogs.
* * *
In the time it took Tess and Moriah to retrace their steps to the ravine across the valley and set a course south from there, they spoke little. Tess knew more or less the course set by the Weeping River, and Kora had told Maravek the Akorites had fled south. Maybe fled wasn’t the right word. She had no doubt the Akorites feared the Preceptors about as much as a pack of wolves fears a buck walking into their territory. No, whatever motivation the Akorites had for abandoning Bryn Mawr, fear was not a part of it.
The better part of an hour passed from the time they left the ravine a second time to when the roaring of the Weeping reached her ears. She devoted that time to keeping a watchful eye on the surrounding forest and trying not to think about what would happen if Maravek found Daniel before she had time to do anything about it.
“I hope you’re right about this,” said Moriah, breaking the silence at last.
Tess veered their trajectory towards the sound of the river. “I am. She was telling the truth. It’s the only explanation that makes sense.”
“It’s a gamble either way.”
“It is.”
“What if we don’t find them? We could spend days roaming up and down the river and still never catch sight of them.”
Tess patted the flare gun at her side, retrieved from one of the packs left behind in the cave. “I don’t plan on finding them. I plan on them finding us.”
Moriah didn’t seem convinced. “They could kill us. That’s what they do, you know.”
Tess spared a moment to shoot the fourth-ranker a look of disapproval. “No, it’s not. They’re people, not animals. Dangerous people, to be sure, but I have little doubt that they’ll listen.”
Moriah didn’t answer, and Tess picked up the pace. Before long, the waters of the Weeping cut through the trees before them. They scrambled down the steep walls of the shallow gorge and dropped to the gravelly bank. Tess gazed up and down the river on both sides. Moriah was right—if they tried to look on their own, the odds of finding the Akorites were slim.
They had no choice but to let the Akorites come to them.
Tess drew the flare gun from her belt, pointed it straight up, and fired. The flare whooshed towards the sky in a thin trail of red smoke before arching gently over the river and disappearing behind the trees above them. Anyone within a mile radius would have been able to see it. She dropped the gun. “Now, we wait.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Daniel froze in place, one hand hovering over Litty like a shield, the other poised on the ground. The baying continued, interspersed with harsh barks that rose above the din. They were getting closer, though he couldn’t tell just how close yet. His jaw tightened as Litty ran back to the rock and grabbed Ducky. To have overcome so many obstacles just to be on the run from wolves again…he listened more closely. No, not wolves. These animals didn’t sound like the wolves that had chased them by the Weeping River.
“We need to go,” said Daniel. “Litty, you have to walk for now.” He dashed to Kora and lifted her off the ground like a sack of coal from the mines.
Litty scampered to his side, her eyes wide, and lifted Ducky up in tight little fists.
“Looks like you’re ready,” Daniel said, trying to keep his tone light for her sake, “Stay close to me, little one.”
Just then, leaves rustled under pounding footsteps. Daniel shot a glance over his shoulder just as Ram emerged from the trees, winded and red-faced. He doubled over and stretched out a hand, in which he held the canteen.
“I heard the—the wolves,” he said between breaths. “Came as fast as I could.”
Daniel took the canteen—Ram had evidently found fresh water—and anxiously scanned the hillside, looking for any trace of movement. The baying was still a ways off, but he didn’t want to take any chances. “Those aren’t wolves,” he said.
Ram blinked. “Then what?”
“Preceptors, if I’m guessing right. Where they got dogs, I don’t know, but they’ll be able to track us a lot more efficiently if they catch a scent.”
Ram straightened and motioned for the canteen. After a quick sip, he cleared his throat. “So what you’re saying is our trouble just got deeper.”
Daniel gave a grim nod. “A lot deeper. We need to move. How far to the bridge?”
Ram shrugged. “Has Kora changed at all?”
He shook his head. “Still out. I checked the wound—it’s as good as it can be, given the circumstances. We don’t have time to—”
“Of course.” Ram took Kora from Daniel’s arms and carried her as effortlessly as though she were a child. “Grab the small fry and let’s book it.”
Daniel extended his arms down to Litty and found her sitting on the carpet of leaves and needles, her eyebrows arched in concentration and her tongue sticking out between her lips, cramming her left foot into her tattered shoe. After a few grunts of frustration, the shoe slid on, and she turned her face up with a proud smile and beaming eyes. “Danny, look.”
He couldn’t suppress a smile. “You put those on all by yourself?”
She lifted her arms to let him scoop her up.
“One of these days I’ll teach you to tie the laces, too. Then you won’t even need me around, will you?”
“And what he means by that,” said Ram, “Is that you’re stuck with him whether you like it or not,
because everyone knows he needs you.”
Daniel gave him a mock glare and picked his little sister up. After securing the canteen on his free shoulder, they set off towards the north, keeping their trajectory as level as possible to avoid further fatigue in the higher terrain to their left. They lapsed into labored silence, concentrating mostly on placing steps and regulating breaths.
To his relief, the sound of the dogs faded not long after they set off. Daniel didn’t know if this was due to the fact that they had lost the trail, or if his assumptions about the Preceptors had been wrong altogether, but he decided not to dwell on it either way. If luck favored them, they would have no further run-ins with danger until they made it out of the foothills.
Despite the cover the trees offered, the afternoon sun was high and beat down on them through the green canopy, and the added exertion of carrying Litty created a film of sweat on his face and arms. As they walked, he kept a close eye on Ram beside him, but even as the minutes stretched into hours, his friend showed no signs of growing weary—despite Kora’s limp body weighing him down—and if he was, he hid it well. His eyes remained on the ground before him, and not once did he utter a word of complaint.
Even Litty, whom out of the three of them was probably the most fed up with the consecutive days of travel, had not complained either. He realized before long that this was because she had fallen asleep with her cheek pressed against his shoulder, her lips half open, and her sweaty bangs sticking to her forehead.
As for himself, his legs were definitely experiencing the toll of the exertion of the last few days, and though he knew he had no right to complain, Litty was growing heavier in his arms by the minute. He kept his thoughts to himself, though. If the others weren’t complaining, neither would he. Besides, he had far more pressing issues on his mind than temporary physical discomfort.
As though reading his mind, Ram broke the silence. “How far do you think the bridge is?”
“Tess seemed to think we could reach it before nightfall. Other than that, I don’t know.”
“What if we miss it altogether?”
Daniel stepped over a fallen branch as thick as his head, being careful not to wake Litty with the motion. He doubted, though, that anything would wake her at this point. He only wished he could get as much sleep as she was. “If we keep heading north we’ll run into the Weeping eventually. Let’s hope we’re not too far off the mark.”
Ram grunted his assent, and they fell back into silence.
Daniel kept his ears attentive, listening for any sign of the dogs and whoever was with them, but no sound came other than what the forest itself had to offer. This pattern was broken, however, when Kora shifted in Ram’s arms and groaned.
“Put her down,” said Daniel, “In case she starts thrashing again.”
Ram hastened to do so, kneeling over her with a protectiveness Daniel had come to expect from him. He laid her down on her back so that her feet pointed downhill. “Come back with us,” he muttered, as though coaxing her back to consciousness.
Daniel peeled Litty off his shoulder and set her down in a thick patch of leaves. By this point, she was deep enough in sleep that she didn’t even stir. He wanted to keep her a safe distance from Kora in case this turned into another thrashing episode. He brushed a strand of hair away from her eye before returning to Ram.
As he approached, Kora groaned again, and this time her head lolled from side to side before her eyelids fluttered open. For a full three seconds she stared straight up at the branches above her without moving so much as a fingertip. Then her chest heaved as she inhaled a gulp of air and sat up with a start.
“Easy,” said Ram, “Probably not best to make sudden moves.”
She took a quick look around, her wide eyes passing over them like they weren’t even there, and when she took in the trees surrounding her, she backpedaled away as if chased by a phantom, her fingers clawing at the leaves and dirt.
Daniel shot Ram a glance, but his friend’s eyes were fixated on Kora. She made it a few feet back before her arms buckled under her and she gave a hoarse cry of pain. She clutched her wounded shoulder and fell back, her head thudding into the leaves.
Ram stole towards her, one crouched step at a time, as though sneaking towards a spooked animal. The description didn’t seem far off. When he caught up to her, he took her by the shoulder with one hand, supported her neck and head with the other, and helped her sit back up. “Don’t move around,” he said, more firmly this time.
At last her eyes found him, and she locked in on him with an intensity that chilled Daniel. “Riona,” she rasped, “They’re coming for us.”
Ram blinked. “Who are you talking to?”
Kora shook once as if she had been hit by a gust of wind, and the intensity faded from her eyes. “Ram?” She looked over his shoulder. “Daniel? What are you doing here?”
Ram breathed an audible sigh of relief. “Right now we’re just trying to keep you from hurting your shoulder even more. The knife wound was deep, but it didn’t hit any—”
“No,” she said, scrambling to get up with a surprising vitality, “We were moving—I felt it. Why aren’t we moving?”
Daniel frowned, confused. “You needed—”
She shook her head. “No, no, no. We need to run. I saw them—I felt them. We need to get away from here. They’re coming.”
“Who’s coming?”
Her eyes darted from side to side. “They are.”
Daniel glanced at Litty. “The Preceptors? We’ve lost their trail. Maravek’s been taken care of. They won’t—”
Kora’s lip curled into a sneer lined with wild ferocity. “No…he’s coming.”
Before Daniel could respond, the barks and howls erupted once more in the forest around them.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Daniel spun back and forth, his eyes trained on the unmoving forest. The baying continued in increasing frenzy. “We have to run,” he said. He swept Litty into his arms. “Kora, can you stay on your feet?”
She offered him a grim nod, but like him, she watched the forest. Her lips pressed together and she bent at the knee, like a rabbit surrounded by wolves.
Litty woke with a whimper, rubbing her bleary eyes with clenched fists. She took a look at the people around her, heard the dogs in the forest, and started to cry.
Daniel rubbed his hand up and down her back. “Shh, it’s going to be okay.” Her lips puckered out and she latched onto his collar with her fingers, but quieted down. He turned to Ram. “Can you find the stream again? I don’t know how they’re on to us, but they’re getting close. The water will help mask our scent.”
“It’s not far,” he said, pointing up the slope, “But we’ll have to veer off course.”
“Let’s do it.”
Ram set off up the hill at a faster pace than they had set all day. Kora followed, sticking to his heels. Her hand went to her injured shoulder and she pressed against the wound, and though she grimaced at the obvious pain, it didn’t keep her from matching Ram’s speed. With a quick kiss to Litty which he hoped would atone for the jostling she would have to endure, Daniel took off after them. The knife bounced against his hip, and he wondered if he would be able to do much with it if it came down to fighting.
Ram put the sun to their backs as they veered eastward. The slope they were on made the going difficult, as the carpet of leaves lent itself to treacherous footing. They had no choice but to throw stealth to the wind. What mattered now was speed—if they could reach the bridge before the Preceptors caught up with them, this nightmare would be over.
At one point Daniel tried to ask Kora what had happened to her since they had parted, but she had ignored the question altogether, and he knew better than to pry. Her eyes went dark and she refused to meet his gaze. Whatever she had gone through at the hands of the Preceptors had left more than physical wounds.
As they ran, Litty kept her fingers wrapped tightly around his shirt collar, as if she were afraid t
o bounce right out of his arms, while keeping Ducky secure under her arms at the same time. She had stopped crying and had lapsed into her usual silence.
“It’s going to take me a long time to make this all up to you, isn’t it?” Daniel said between breaths, as much to himself as to her.
The dogs followed them like a hidden shadow—always near, always making their presence known, but never close enough to be seen. Their savage barks fueled Daniel’s legs to keep on going.
They crested the slope, followed the ridge for a short period, passed through a span of pines that slowed their progress with knobby roots rising from the ground, and then headed downhill.
“At the bottom,” said Ram with a huff.
The stream flowed south-east at the base of the hill, and Daniel took the lead as they splashed into the knee-deep water with no hesitation. The water soaked through his shoes and pants in a matter of seconds—it was frigid, flowing from much higher in the mountains. He ignored the cold numbing his legs. They needed to use anything to their advantage that they could.
“Now what?” Said Ram, joining him in the water with Kora. “Either way we follow it takes us away from the bridge. We need to be going north.”
“I know,” said Daniel, “Let me think.” He shut his eyes and tried to visualize the map Tess had described to them. “East,” he said, “We’ll follow it east. For a little ways, at least. Enough to get them off our scent. Then we can cut back to the north. If all goes well, we won’t lose too much time, and it’s better than having them on our tail.”
As if to emphasize his point, the barking intensified.
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