the wall. Maybe two dozen yards farther he came to what had to be the third chamber. He held the lamp high and saw barrels of food. But it was all grains and dry stuffs, including rope, arrows, and cord.
He exited the room. He was too tired to cook grains, but at least he could get a drink. The dripping rock must be farther up the corridor. He climbed, found the dripping rock, and satisfied his thirst. The corridor took a sharp turn upwards at this point and someone had carved steps into it. The Creek Widow had told him there was an escape route out the back. This must be it.
Despite his weariness, his curiosity took him up the stairs. It wasn’t too long and he found the exit. Another large stone sealed it, but it too had been moved aside. He left the lamp burning below and climbed through the exit and out into a cluster of rocks to stand on the side of the hill some distance above and to the right of where he estimated the mouth of this refuge to be. He wondered why the exit was open. Maybe the air in the cave had been stale. It certainly created a nice breeze through the corridor.
Except he was sure there had been no breeze before. “Ke,” he called out into the night. There was no response, nothing but the sound of night insects.
Talen turned round, picked up his lamp, and went back down the stairs. He took another drink at the dripping rock and noticed this time that the water from the rock ran into a fissure that ran a dozen feet along the side of the path.
He passed Sugar and Legs by the fire. When he reached the first chamber, he found the Tailor standing in his stall, saddle still on his back. That was bad form. The Creek Widow could have held her business until she’d unsaddled him. He wondered where the privy was. It certainly couldn’t be a formal thing. She’d probably just taken a spade with her out the exit.
Talen walked over to take care of the Tailor, but when he got close he kicked something in the dirt. He bent over and picked it up. It was her codex of lore.
Then he saw other things scattered about.
“Aunt?” he called.
Nothing.
He walked over to the mouth of the cave and stood listening. He scanned the clearing, stepped farther out and looked up the hill. Nothing but the insects, the stars, and the moon shining down from the west.
The Tailor might have simply knocked over one of the bags. Or perhaps Ke had returned with something urgent. It was possible. But not likely. She wouldn’t just run off.
“Aunt?” he called out again.
When she did not reply, he took his lamp, held it low, and searched the ground.
He found Ke’s knife, which was odd. He identified all their footprints. There were five of them. Then he saw a sixth. Talen bent low and measured it with the span between his thumb and pinky finger. It was mishappen and large. Larger than any human’s could possibly be.
He knew immediately what it belonged to.
He raced back to the corridor. That thing had been here. A worse idea shivered him. It might be feeding on the Creek Widow at this very moment somewhere outside. Or had it returned?
Talen stood at the entrance of the second chamber looking at the impenetrable depths of the corridor.
Did it see him? Was it watching him even now?
“Aunt?” he called into the dark passage. He lingered a moment more, listening, but there was no reply. He turned to Sugar and Legs. “Get up.”
“What are you doing?” asked Sugar.
“The monster,” he said, “it’s here. I think it’s taken them.”
And he did not want to be bottled up in this cave waiting for it to return. They had to get out. Sugar tried to wake Legs, but he would not rouse. So Talen rushed in and lifted him over his aching shoulders as he done the previous day.
He carried him out, and put him in the saddle that was still on the Tailor. Sugar was about to tie him on, when Legs blearily asked, “What are we doing?”
Sugar shushed him.
“Leaving,” Talen whispered. He untied the horse and led it out of the stall.
He didn’t know where he would go or what they could do. They just had to get out. Maybe they could go to the far hill and watch this entrance and hope