glancing at me. “It seems foolish to waste so much meat.”
I shake my head, gesturing at the splashes of red that cover the snow. “This was no hunt. The chest is whole.” When we hunted these before, the ribcage was cracked open and the heart cut to steal the precious, life-giving khuis. But from this side of the creature, I can see that the chest is unmarked by knives, the fur here still snowy white.
T’shen continues to circle around the head, shaking his spear and hissing when a few of the scavenger birds grow fearless. He makes a sound in his throat and looks up at me. “Come see this.”
I jog to his side, and we stare at the killing wound of the dead creature.
It has been torn apart from the neck to the shoulders. Blood has spilled and frozen from the edges of the wound, and it is clear that this was the injury that caused it to die.
“What is it?” B’rukh asks. H’nah stands next to her, clutching her weapon.
“Stay there,” T’shen leans in close to me, his gaze on his mate. “Whatever attacked this was from above. The only big creature that flies is sky-claw, but they have never attacked sa-kohtsk before. They are not big enough.”
I stare at the wound, so big I could walk through it, and at the jagged teeth-marks that have left ragged edges. There are few creatures that take bites and kill without devouring the entire prey. I stare at this and remember stories my father’s father told me when I was a kit. Of an old sky-claw, bigger than all the rest. One with a gap in its long, deadly teeth so that when it bit down, it would leave a section unbitten, a spot unblemished in all the carnage.
I move forward, looking for such a mark, and I am sick to my stomach when I find it. There. An area by the neck, nearly two hand-spans wide where the teeth should have gouged it in line with the rest of the bite.
T’shen moves to my side. “What is it you see?”
I turn to look at him, and as I do, I see H’nah come around the side, a look of horror on her face as she stares at the ice-crusted wound. There is fear on her face, and that fear and worry tear at me. “It is nothing,” I tell T’shen, but give him a look indicating we will talk later.
He nods at me. “Come, Brooke,” he says to his mate. “Let us continue on.”
“Should we stop and skin the thing? Use what we can?” She moves to his side, casting worried looks at the dead creature.
“No, we will leave it,” he says. “The stench is too much and the blood-birds are already here. We will continue on to the fruit cave so we may be there before dark.”
“Okay,” she says, her tone uneasy, but she puts her hand in her mate’s and lets him lead her forward.
“Is everything all right?” H’nah whispers to me. Her face is pale despite the sheen of sweat on her brow.
I want to hold her close, to reassure her that I will not let her come to harm. But…if this is Old Grandfather of the Sky-Claw as I think it might be, then we might be in danger. “I will keep you safe,” I promise her.
I hold my hand out, and I am surprised when she takes it. Pleased, but surprised. I squeeze her gloved hand and lead her away from the dead thing.
The sooner we get to this cave, the sooner my female is safe.
11
J’SHEL
The dead sa-kohtsk has brought speed to our feet, because we make good time as we head through the endless weave of valleys and canyons. We arrive at the one that T’shen wants and I am not entirely surprised to see that it looks like all the others. This place is all white snow and stone to me, and it will take time before I can distinguish one rocky place from another.
“I can see nothing,” I admit to T’shen as he looks around the valley.
“That is the beauty of this place.” He grins and heads straight toward the rocky cliff wall, and then puts a hand on a rock. “There is a path up behind these stones. Come and see.”
We do, and there is a narrow, twisty walkway, just as he described. I let H’nah go in front of me, as her excitement is palpable. She wants to see