The tree ended above Brice, almost at the ledge. The spindly branches at the edge brushed against him.
Brice pushed the pain from his mind, and he climbed. Water cascaded down the rock. His hands moved over and over in the crack. His boots edged wherever they could.
The tree against the rock shook, and Brice heard it creak as the warth climbed.
The others were calling, but he wasn’t sure if it was through his lattice or his ears. They were standing on the ledge, looking down. Even Tris.
A flash of lightning lit the sky. The ledge was just above the top of the tree. A few metres, that was all.
Could a warth make that leap?
The crew drew their lashes. Brice pushed himself on. Hand over hand, one move at a time. Arm then leg, arm then leg. Just like a ladder. Just like a walk.
Cathal barked instructions, something about a weak spot.
Brice didn’t see the blur from the lashes, but he saw the tree shudder where the bolts of energy struck it. Cathal gave another yell, and they fired again.
And the tree started to move.
A warth growled, the sound rolling around Brice and making his skin tighten.
Cathal gave another signal, barked something about hurrying up, and this time Brice looked up in time to see the air blur.
There was a sharp crack. The tree shifted, and Brice looked through the branches, to the twisted trunk. In a flash—and maybe this was the lightning—he understood what Cathal was doing. He saw how the trunk teetered, and how it would fall if knocked off balance.
Brice gripped the rock tight. As the warth climbed, the tree shook, and water from the thinner branches sprayed Brice.
Cathal gave another yell. Brice shut his eyes and grabbed the rock tight, tensing his whole body. The tree groaned. He felt the rock vibrate. The warth let out a desperate roar.
Branches grabbed at Brice , threatening to pull him from the cliff. He forced his head against the rock, his whole body tight, gripping the rock like a limpet. The air was alive with creaks and cracks and sharp, angry splintering, and a strangled roar that faded as the tree fell.
And then there was just the rain washing down over his stinging hands.
He sussed, telling the others he was fine. Then he glanced down to the fallen tree, and to the three warths by the cliff, heads pulled back as they howled in loss. But the sound was too distant to be a threat now.
He turned back to the ledge and climbed.
Hands grabbed Brice at the ledge, and he let them drag him up. Strange how he felt so tired now.
The ledge stretched about fifteen metres along the cliff. It was wide enough to stand on, then it dipped down into a cave. The roof towered over Brice’s head, and water dripped into puddles on the uneven floor, the echoes sharp against the water cascading over the forest.
Brice fought the urge to call out and listen to his voice bounce back. Instead, he followed the others into the cave. It was good to be out of the rain.
“You okay?” Cathal asked, one eyebrow raised. Brice nodded. Cathal looked down to Brice’s waist, to his lash.
“The third one was about to attack.” What was he supposed to say?
Something slammed into his shoulder, and Brice turned, his fists already clenched. Tris’s face was almost in his own, his breath hot and angry.
“What the hell are you trying to do? You could’ve got us all killed down there!” Tris shook as he pushed hard at Brice’s chest. Brice stepped back, just one foot. “You think you could bring a warth down by yourself, you stupid bloody…”
Tris pushed again, but Brice was ready. He blocked with his arm, then brought his own hand up, just like in training. Not the official training, but the sessions at night, when he’d join the few others to learn more useful techniques. His fingers found Tris’ throat and squeezed, just enough to let Tris know he could apply more pressure if he wanted to.
“Cut it out!”
A hand came down on Brice’s wrist, and Cathal stepped in, between Brice and Tris. He saw Ryann and Keelin behind Tris, pulling him back. Keelin had one of his arms, and Tris struggled against her grip.
“Brice, Tris. No time for this.”
Brice released his grip, nodding at Cathal, doing his best to look…not repentant, but accepting. He wasn’t the one who had started it, after all.
“Tris, keep yourself in check.”
“Hard when you’re working with kids!” But Tris only muttered that, turning away when Cathal glared at him.
“And Brice…” Cathal brought his face in close enough for Brice to feel his stale breath. “Brice. You do anything stupid like that again, I’ll get you reassigned. We’re professionals. We work together. You ignore instructions, you put us all in danger. You understand?”
“But the third warth…”
“I asked a question.”
His mouth dry, Brice nodded. “I understand.”
“Anything else?”
Brice felt ten years old, and he hated Cathal for that. But he gave the answer his commander expected. “Sorry.”
“Learn from this, Brice.”
Brice nodded again.
“But he did spot that third warth,” Keelin said in a small voice. Brice wanted to smile. But Cathal would think he was being smug, and Tris would get riled again, and…no, best to keep his face straight.
“He did,” said Cathal, turning to the rest of the crew. “Doesn’t excuse his actions, but he did see it. Ryann?”
“I should’ve sensed it.” Her eyes glazed for a moment. “I can now, but it’s weak. Like it’s partially protected. Hard to explain.”
“It was covered in mud.” Brice wondered if any of the others had spotted that. If they’d even bothered to look at the thing.
“Might explain part of it, but not all. No, there’s something else. It’s…interesting.”
Interesting. Not the first word that came to Brice’s mind.
“Intentions?” Cathal asked.
“Unclear. There was a nest nearby. But three warths acting together like that
