her injury. Still, it hadn’t slowed her down too much. She’d managed to stay one step ahead all this time.
Except she was still out there, unprotected, on her own, and it was killing him.
He’d tracked her, then lost her again—he suspected she’d slipped back into one of those water tunnel networks—then found her trail on land in a whole different section, suggesting that the underground networks she was using were not continuous.
If he had any chance of catching her, it would be before she slipped back underground. He needed to do so soon.
The rest of the hunting party was only a little of the way behind.
He scoured the darkening landscape, the urgent need to find her clawing at him, a brutal beast that shredded his insides and gave him no rest.
He sensed she was close.
But not close enough.
On a slow, deep inhale, he wrestled his feelings back under control.
Once he found her, he’d make things right.
As long as one of his crew or some other danger didn’t find her first.
25
Hands planted on her thighs, Nayla leaned over and sucked down a long, slow breath, debating whether she had it in her to keep going or find a hideout for the night.
The back of her neck prickled. Just as it had for these past rotations.
Someone was on her trail. Likely Grif.
Gathering her energy, she crept forward, scanning her surroundings. She’d long ago passed the jagged cliffs and entered the terrain with flatter rolling sand hills. The open expanses made it easier to spot predators, but also harder for her to hide. Right now, though, with the moons covered by dust clouds, everything was in shadow.
Still, she didn’t like traveling above ground. But the underground currents only carried her so far before they disappeared where even her kind could not follow. When that happened, the best bet was to return to the surface and head to the next access point. She was only a rotation or two’s walk from the next water tunnel entrance now.
Lips pressed flat with resolve, she hobbled on. Her injured calf, while better after repeated treatment from the taldish paste she’d made from plants found along the way, still stung with each footfall.
No matter. She would endure.
“Look what we’ve got here.” A dark form separated from the hillside. Flat, gray eyes glittered in the moons’ lights. A necklace of finger bones jangled from around the big male’s throat.
Icy fear slid down her spine. She’d thought she’d sensed Grif close at hand. She’d been wrong.
This was an altogether different kind of Other, the violence and depravity that oozed from his form thicker than the red dust coating his body and face.
“Let me see what we got.” Another flat-toothed head popped up over the shoulder of the first male, his body even wider and taller than the first. “Holy hells.” He eyed her up and down, making her feel as if the cloth wrapped around her hips wasn’t even there. “Look at her.”
She forced herself to show no fear. “Stay back.”
She slid the spear she’d fashioned from the picked-clean rib bone of a thigose off her back and eased it around to her front, pointed tip outward. It packed none of the punch of her whalh spear, but it was better than nothing.
“What you got there, girlie?” Two more faces appeared. “Don’t look like much.”
A muffled sound echoed behind her and she knew there were at least two creeping up on her flank, cutting off her escape route.
She swiveled, but it did no good. She was surrounded. Their hard, cruel faces peered down at her with ugly intent. The moons’ shadows only making them appear more terrifying. The biggest had a hoop through his nose. Another had fleshy ears hanging from a chain around his biceps. The shortest was missing an eye. Altogether, there were at least eight of them, all twice her size, all radiating cruelty.
Circling slowly, she tried to keep them at bay with the spear, jabbing in their direction.
“She looks strange.”
“She’s got all the working holes.”
Tuning them out, she considered her options. Besides the spear, she’d armed herself with a few sharp rocks, and an old pack surprise.
Still, her best chance was not having to use any of it at all.
Without warning, she darted through a small opening in the circle. Her size and speed might let her escape and—
A rough hand clamped around her forearm, yanking her back. “Oh, no you don’t.”
She slammed into a hard chest, a thick arm wrapping around her throat. The bitter