and his son. At first, it didn’t bother him. He watched the people and animals come and go. But toward late afternoon it occurred to him that the Koramite and his son might not have gone to the city at all. They might have simply ridden on by.
This gave him pause. What if they weren’t coming back this way? What if they weren’t coming back at all? Argoth might hold lands in that other direction. They might be gone visiting; they might be gone for a weeklong hunt for all he knew.
He shouldn’t have let them go. No, he’d made a miscalculation. He should have given them chase.
But then he calmed himself. They were either in the city or they were beyond it. The wind was blowing in from the sea. All he needed to do was walk the edge of the forest in a line running toward the city.
If the Koramite and his boy were in the city or going to travel back, he’d pick up their scent. And if they weren’t, well, then they had quite a start on him.
But Hunger would find them. Of that he had no doubt. He’d been a great hunter in his time. At least, one of those he’d eaten had been.
Hunger stood and began making his way down the hill. Below him on the road, three boys in red hats herded a large flock of sheep. Their long-haired, black and white dogs barked to keep the sheep from straying too far from the road.
Hunger stepped out of the brush into the middle of the flock and sent the sheep running. The second boy, walking perhaps only a dozen feet ahead, looked back. His expression of curiosity turned to horror.
Hunger could catch the shepherd and eat him. He paused. He could smell him, taste him on the wind. He could eat them all.
No, he told himself. He would not. If he did, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself the next time.
One of the dogs began barking.
Something drifted to him on the breeze. He opened his mouth.
The burning boy. The scent was faint but unmistakable.
This time, Hunger thought, you won’t get away. He turned from the shepherd and his sheep.
The dog followed him to the brush on the far side of the road, snarling. The young man found his voice and yelled a warning. But another three steps and Hunger was well into the wood, the sounds of the shepherds and their dogs receeding behind him.
TREES
T
alen peered out from the wagon bed. The men following them had begun to trot their horses.
“I’m jumping out around that next bend,” said Talen. Nettle could continue with the wagon while Talen tried to escape on foot.
“They’ve already seen you,” said Nettle.
“You don’t know that.”
“You don’t know that they haven’t.”
“It’s the only way.”
“Just act normal,” said Nettle.
“Will you shut up with your normal nonsense.”
“I’m Captain Argoth’s son. It will count for something.”
“Yeah,” said Talen. “That’s why I was standing around this morning at the city gate batting horseflies from my naked body.”
“As soon as they realize you’re gone, they’ll know. They’ll send one back for help. The rest will watch the area. And the woods here don’t run unbroken. They’ll see you.”
“No,” said Talen. “They won’t.” But he knew they would. By the stinking lord of pigs, they would.
Unless he hid so well, so quietly, like a mouse in a tuft of grass, that they’d have to be standing right on him to know he was there.
“Just get me to the bend in the road,” said Talen. They didn’t have dogs, and it would be dark before they could bring them. That was the only thing he had in his favor.
Talen caught another glimpse of the men, perhaps a half-dozen rods behind. There were eight of them, all Shoka.
The wagon bumped along, making it difficult for Talen to keep himself flat and out of sight in the wagon bed. At this pace they weren’t going to make the bend. “Speed it up,” hissed Talen.
“We’ll say you’re sick.”
“It won’t work,” said Talen.
Behind them, the men urged their horses into a canter.
“Faster,” said Talen.
Nettle flipped the reins and Iron Boy began to trot. The wagon bounced off a rut.
Talen readied himself.
It was odd, but the sensation of energy and well-being he’d noticed passing through the city gate had not vanished. If anything, it had built. He felt as if he could keep pace with a horse, maybe outrun one.
Of course, that was stupid. Still, with every jolt of the