Riden and Kearan mark the tree so it will fall at the angle we want. Then the two of them handle the saw. The rest of us wrap ourselves in the ends of the ropes, so we can use our weight to catch the trunk.
The grating sound of metal on wood starts. A bird twitches its head to the side to better view us with one beady eye. After a few seconds, it takes off in flight.
I tell myself it’s fleeing away from all the racket we’re making and not something coming toward us.
I’ve posted watches. There’s nothing more I can do except help.
My eyes dart from the tree line—
And land on Riden’s arms, flexing as they push the saw through the tree.
Damn, but they look good.
“Is there something on Riden’s arm?” Niridia asks. It comes out so innocently, but I know better. Oh, she’ll pay for that one later.
Riden looks over his shoulder at me.
“Thought I could make him move faster by sheer force of will,” I say.
“If you’d like to come saw, I’ll gladly switch you places,” Riden says.
Three-quarters of the way through sawing, the tree starts to crack on its own, the weight of it bringing it right down toward the ropes. The nearby roped-up trees do most of the work in catching the weight, but we all still get dragged a foot forward in the dirt.
“Cut most of the branches as close to the trunk as possible,” Radita says, “but don’t nick the trunk. Save a few longer branches as handholds for carrying it back to the ship.”
We lower the tree and start hacking with whatever we have. Some brought axes from the ship. Others pull out their cutlasses for the smaller branches. Riden and Kearan take the saw to the lower, bigger branches. The work is painstakingly slow. This pine has innumerable branches, which is a good sign that it’s healthy, but more work for us. I keep one eye on the branches I’m cutting, another on the surrounding trees, searching for anything approaching.
I can see the back of Lotiya’s head from atop the rocky rise above the cave opening. Deshel is hidden opposite her, probably up in one of the trees on the other side of the clearing, guarding our backs.
Still, this place is too ripe with animal and plant life for me to believe nothing else lives here. It would be the perfect place for a settlement, were the land king to discover this place. And if the sirens migrate to this place, surely it can’t be empty? Why else would they come if there weren’t men for them to prey on?
I hit a knot in the branch I’m tackling, so I put even more force behind my next blow, and the wood finally cracks. The girls weave around one another to travel from one felled branch to the next. We care not for neat cuts or even nubs. We can make things look pretty later.
Speed is my only concern. On and off the island.
Every mouth groans from the weight of the tree as we carry, drag, push, and pull the trunk to the ship. Several times we have to attach ropes and pulleys to nearby trees to get the trunk over hills. Even with my strength at the fat base of the trunk, the tree proves challenging. We pause several times to catch our breath.
Lotiya and Deshel follow our movements in a wide arc, ready to warn us at the first sign of danger. My entire body is tense, just waiting for a warning call, sure it must be coming any second.
When we reach the beach and the ship is finally in sight, a collective sigh looses into the air. Deshel returns from her position and peers at the spot opposite her own watch, where her sister should be.
“Where’s Lotiya?” Deshel asks.
Heads turn, but no one says anything. I know it’s not likely that she wandered off on her own. Worry takes root in my chest.
“Lotiya!” Deshel shouts.
“Hush,” I tell her. “We’ll search for her.” I look through the crew. “Sorinda, Mandsy, Riden, and Deros—you’re with me. Niridia, get this trunk to the ship. Radita, do what you can to get my ship going again.”
“You don’t want me to come with you?” Niridia asks.
“If Lotiya is injured, I’ll need Mandsy more.” If I’m not with the ship, I always need one of them with it in my stead. I can’t take them both.
“Shouldn’t I come, too?” Kearan asks.
“No, I need your strength focused on moving the trunk.”
Kearan darts a glance in Sorinda’s direction so quickly I almost miss it. “What if you run into danger? I could—”
“You’re to stay, Kearan. End of discussion.”
“I will be joining you,” Deshel demands.
“Of course,” I say. “Everyone, move out.”
The majority of the crew get back to dragging the trunk toward the ship, and my little party of six turns back for the island.
It’s easy to retrace our steps. The tree trunk left a clear trail through the forest, turning up dirt and plants as we dragged it in places. In other spots, our feet left deep divots in the ground where the weight of the pine drove us into the forest floor.
We keep the trail to our right, traveling along the path that Lotiya would have taken while on watch. I’ve brought Deros with us because he has some skill with tracking on land. He and his brother lived together, spending their days hunting in the woods for food, until an accident befell his brother. Another, less-experienced hunter got spooked and shot before realizing it was no beast that was near him. The death hit Deros strongly. He wanted to forget everything that reminded him of his brother. So he looked for work on the sea, hiring on with my crew.
“Here,” he says. “I’ve found her trail.”
“It’s more than one set of tracks,” Sorinda puts in.
“Yes,” Deros agrees.
“Someone took her,” Mandsy says.
Even I can guess the lines tracing over the needle-covered ground indicate she was dragged.
“There’s blood, too,” Deshel says, her voice breathier than usual.
Deros moves us at a faster pace through the woods now that we’ve found the trail, whipping past tree branches, leaping over roots, dodging bushes and brambles.
The trail takes us back to the clearing. The blood droplets end right outside the mouth of the cave.
Chapter 12
THE STENCH OF THE cave is overwhelming. I can’t believe we couldn’t smell it from outside. It’s decaying flesh and human waste all wrapped into one. The airflow is limited, making the scents almost overpowering. Mandsy pulls her blouse over her nose.
The smell is not nearly so disturbing as the bones, however. They cover the floor like a carpet.
I lower one of the torches, which we fashioned out of branches, ripped cloth, and tree sap, to get a better look.
“I recognize deer, mountain cat, and rabbit bones,” Deros says.
“These are human,” I say, pointing to a pile of skulls.
“I thought we were following human tracks,” Riden says. “But this is the lair of some kind of beast.”
“I don’t understand it, either,” Deros says.
“Are we to stand here talking about what we don’t understand, or are we going to save my sister?” Deshel asks.
“I can’t pick out a trail in this, Captain,” Deros says. “I’m sorry.”
“I’ll take the lead now,” I say.