Bearers of the Black Staff

“They slept here after eating, then rose and went that way.” He pointed off to the west and back down the slopes. “They’re not done hunting.”


“How far ahead?” she asked.

He rose and stood looking bleakly down into the deep woods that spread out below them. “Only an hour or so.”

They set out once more, neither of them saying anything now, both of them concentrating on the task at hand. The air was growing warmer as the sun moved higher, the morning inching toward midday. They had been tracking for more than seven hours, and Panterra was aware of the need for food and rest. But they couldn’t afford to stop for either until they finished this. The risk of losing their quarry, now that they were so close, was too great to set aside in favor of personal needs.

The snow line had been left behind more than a mile back, and the frozen ground of earlier had softened. Traces of footprints reaffirmed that there were two of them, and the width and depth of their prints was worrisome. Panterra was growing steadily less comfortable with every step they took. If they inadvertently stumbled onto these beasts or if the beasts happened to catch sight of them following, he did not like to think of the consequences. Both Prue and he carried long knives and bows, but these were poor weapons against opponents of this size. A spear or sword would better serve them, but Trackers did not like to be burdened with heavy weapons and neither Pan nor Prue bore them.

He thought some more about what they were doing, hunting creatures strong enough to kill two older and more experienced Trackers. He felt his reasons for doing so were good ones, but he had to wonder if he was displaying sufficient common sense. He knew that he and Prue were blessed with unusual talent and excellent instincts, but it would only take one slip for them to end up as two additional casualties with no one the wiser. He glanced momentarily at the girl, but she was concentrating on studying the way forward and paid him no attention. He did not see any doubt on her face.

He quickly erased his own.

The woods ahead grew increasingly dense, and the shadows dark. It was harder to see much of anything in the gloom, the sun unable to penetrate the heavy canopy. But that was where the tracks led.

He slowed anyway, signaling to Prue. She looked over. “What?”

He shook his head, not sure “what.” Something, though, was not right. He could feel it in his bones.

“Still don’t sense anything?” he pressed.

She shook her head no.

He hesitated, wondering if she might be mistaken. But she had never been mistaken before. It was foolish to start doubting her now. “Let’s keep moving,” he said.

They entered the woods, slipping noiselessly between the trunks of the trees, through the weeds and tall grasses. Because of the denseness of the foliage, they were forced to separate to avoid traveling in single file where only one could see ahead, working their way forward perhaps ten or twelve feet apart. The light faded, and the gloom deepened. There were no longer any tracks to follow, but broken stalks and scrapes on the bark marked the way. Good enough for now, Panterra thought. These were sufficient to keep them on the trail.

Then abruptly the woods opened onto a swamp, a morass of grasses alive with buzzing insects and groundwater thick with pond scum. A wind blew foul and sour across the waters and into the trees, carrying the scents of death and decay.

Panterra knew at once that he had made a mistake. He sank into a crouch, watching Prue, now almost fifteen feet away, do the same. While they had been tracking the creatures that had killed Bayleen and Rausha, the creatures had sensed them and led them to this bog. Swampy water ahead and a choking forest all about—it was a trap.

A quick shiver ran down his spine. How had Prue missed this? Had the stench of the swamp somehow masked their presence? Was that why her instincts had failed her? He reached for his knife and slowly drew it from its sheath. Prue was too far away, he realized suddenly—too distant for him to protect. He cast about swiftly, searching for a sign that would tell him from which direction the attack would come.

He found it almost immediately.

The creatures were right behind him.





THREE




PANTERRA QU TOOK A DEEP BREATH AND STARTED to turn around to face whatever was there. But a voice as cold and hard as winter stopped him where he was.

“Stay still. They know you’re here, but they don’t know exactly where yet. If you move, they will.”

Pan was so shocked that he did what he was told without thinking. Whoever was speaking was right behind him, but obviously it wasn’t one of the creatures he was tracking. He had been mistaken about that.

“Where are they?” he whispered, keeping his eyes focused on the swamp and its dense foliage. “I don’t see them.”