Bearers of the Black Staff

Then he caught sight of the bracelet on the wrist of the severed hand a few feet off. He rose, walked over, and knelt again. The bracelet was gold, and there was a tiny bird charm dangling from a clasp.

He closed his eyes and looked away. Bayleen.

That meant the other body was Rausha’s. He knew them both. Trackers, like himself, but older and much more experienced. He had known them for years. Prue had known them, too. Bayleen had lived a few cottages away and had often looked after Prue when she was very little.

He thought about how this might have happened, scanning the ground for a sign that would confirm his suspicions. Rausha was a big man and very strong; whatever did this would have been much stronger and would have caught him off guard completely.

He slipped the bracelet off the severed wrist and got to his feet. He looked around once more, more cautious now than ever, more aware of what it was they were up against. “Come out, Prue,” he called over to her.

He met her halfway, not letting her get any closer to the remains. When she was standing in front of him, green eyes mirroring the horror in his own, freckled face trying to look brave, he held out the bracelet.

“Oh, no, Pan,” she whispered. Tears appeared in her eyes and trickled down her cheeks.

“Rausha, too,” he said. He slid the bracelet into his pocket. “They must have been asleep when it happened.”

Prue put her hands over her face and began to sob. He put his arms around her and pulled her close. “Shhh, Prue, shhh. It’s all right.”

It wasn’t, of course, but it was all he could think to say. As he held her, he was reminded of how small she was. Her head barely reached his shoulders, and her body was so slight it was almost not there. He patted her head and stroked her hair. It had been a long time since he had seen her cry.

Finally she stopped and stepped back, brushing at her face with her sleeve. “What are we going to do?” she asked quietly.

“We’re going after whoever did this,” he said at once.

She looked up at him in disbelief. “You and me? We can’t do that! We’re still in training!”

“Technically,” he agreed. “But we have the authority to make decisions on our own when we’re scouting.”

The tears were gone entirely now, and a hard look had replaced them. “I don’t think Trow Ravenlock would agree with you.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t.”

“But then he isn’t here, is he?”

Panterra gave her a quick smile. “No, he isn’t.”

She took a deep breath and exhaled. “And we’re the best ones for a job like this, aren’t we?”

She was alluding to their special talents, the ones responsible for gaining them Tracker standing at such a young age. Even at seventeen, he could decipher a trail better than anyone. He had an uncanny knack for knowing what had left it, and how long before, when others wouldn’t even know it was there. Even Trow, who was the leader of the Trackers, acknowledged as much—although he still referred to Panterra as a boy. Prue was more gifted still. She had been born with preternatural instincts that warned of impending danger even when it was not visible. It was a talent she was rumored to have inherited from someone who had come into the valley with the Hawk. She had sensed the presence of the bodies that very morning, while they were still almost a hundred yards away. Young as they were, Panterra Qu and Prue Liss were the most effective pair of Trackers in Glensk Wood and perhaps the entire valley.

“We are the best,” Panterra affirmed. “Anyone else who tries will be at much greater risk.”

“What do we do if we find the things that did this?” She gestured toward the bodies.

“Mostly, I just want to get a look at them. A larger force can always hunt them down later.” He held up one hand in a warding gesture. “I’m not suggesting you and I should try to take them on by ourselves.”

“No, I shouldn’t think so. Nor do I think we want what we’re hunting to catch us out. We have to be very careful. I don’t want to end up like Bayleen and Rausha.”

He shifted his shoulder pack, looking out across the snowy expanse and the trail of blood. “Don’t worry, we won’t.”