Hannah's Hero - Ruby Dixon Page 0,95

boots crunch on the snow. I miss the days of moving through the trees, when I knew where to hold a branch to ensure that the leaves did not rustle. My feet feel clumsy in comparison to my arms, but I must manage anyhow. I step slower, breathing through my mouth so I do not take in the stink of the dead things in the valley. I place one foot, then another, and then another.

A loud, angry cry echoes in the canyon from Old Grandfather, and then I see him.

Even though he terrifies me, the ancient sky-claw is magnificent. I have never seen a creature as great in size as him. Even the biggest of kaari are no match for this winged hunter. I stare up at the glaring blue eyes that survey the valley, the wings tucked tight against the long, body, thick with muscle. Its long, slender legs are hidden underneath tufts of brown fur, but I know they are tipped with talons and can rip open a hunter’s gut before he realizes he is injured. I know that the long, beaky mouth looks like a blade in the darkness, but it is filled with rows of hard, sharp teeth with serrated edges.

And I know Old Grandfather will eat my mate without a thought, so I cannot let him do so.

I creep toward the distant cliff that he roosts upon, and every step feels dangerous. My camouflage hides me against the snow, but if he looks for movement, he might see me anyhow. I take each step slowly, carefully, only moving when that terrible head swings in the other direction. In a way, I am glad there is so much slaughter and gore in the valley—the stink of the dead will hide my smell.

It seems impossible, but time passes and then I am below Old Grandfather’s perch, my body pressed to the rock wall below. He has not seen me, his gaze scanning the remains of his meals below. Now, I can climb toward him. Old Grandfather is a creature of habit—he comes to the same perch every day and looms over the valley, and I have crept out while H’nah slept and studied these rocks from afar, trying to determine the best handholds. I thought it would be difficult to climb, that my hands would be sweaty and the cliffs would be covered in ice, but the rock is jagged and easy to clasp, and I pull myself up the cliffs quickly. I land on a ledge a short distance below Old Grandfather’s perch, and the smell of dead things grows worse here. Old Grandfather stinks of decay, and my throat works, trying to keep my last meal of fruit down.

I hate this sky-claw. I know he is just an animal, but I hate that he will take me from H’nah. I hate that he threatens my mate. I hate that he could destroy everything.

Someday a hunter will kill you, I tell the creature. And I hope I am there to stick a spear into you myself.

My foot slips on the narrow rock ledge, sending a pebble tumbling downward. I freeze in place as Old Grandfather’s head swings in my direction. For a moment, I panic. I do not breathe, do not twitch, do not move. His cruel eyes scan the cliffs, and I think he will see me perched on the ledge and attack.

But then his gaze continues onward. He ruffles his wings against his body and then settles down on his ledge once more.

I let out a slow, quiet breath. All night long, I have been thinking of ways to ensure that I do not fail my H’nah. The easiest way, of course, would be for Old Grandfather to eat me and digest the leaves I carry on my back. That thought has been in my head all day, and I know it would ensure that I succeed. It is the easiest plan. What is simpler than flinging myself at a creature and letting its hunger do the rest? I could hurl myself off this cliff right now and end it all.

That is the last thing I want, though.

I want H’nah to be safe. More than anything, she is what matters. But I am selfish. I want to return to the camp with her and share a hut together. I want long nights under the furs, touching and tasting each other. I want to watch her belly round out with my kit. I want to