On the morrow of their first meeting, she saw him watching her cavern, no doubt hoping to catch a glimpse of her. She left her habitat with the weathered, wooden spear she’d once bartered for instead of the steel one she’d later taken by force from a man who’d thought he could make her serve him.
When the Watcher approached her at a sustaining tree, she feigned a certain level of helplessness, desperation even, so that he might feel superior. Only after she gained his trust, only after he fell victim to her charms, did she slowly expose her gifts. And even then, never to the extent that he might realize that she’s just as remarkable as the Hunter.
She couldn’t deny that she’d been attracted to him, and still is to this very morrow. Although they became close enough over their time together that she wanted to bear his child, she always knew that their time together would eventually need to end. It’s the only way for her vision of what Krymzyn should be to finally come to fruition.
The woman’s ears prick at the faint sound of a rock moving on the slope behind her. Thirty feet? Forty feet? She hadn’t seen signs of her kind in the area, but that didn’t mean they weren’t nearby. Or did the Hunter discover that the woman was on her trail?
She twists to her rear and swings her weapon up in front of her. Instantly recognizing her most trusted companion, she unwinds her muscles and relaxes her stance. He covers his mouth with his hand to signal her to remain quiet and then motions for her to follow him. Without disturbing the smallest pebble or making the slightest sound, she nimbly makes her way down the slope.
As she nears him, he turns and heads down the hill. After they silently step to the base, he leads her to a concealed gorge in a nearby cliff. Once they’re inside the rocky crag, the tall Murkovin pokes his head out of the opening. Only when he’s convinced that no one else is nearby does he focus his attention on her.
“What happened to your face?” he asks in a hushed voice.
“The Hunter and a group of Travelers raided the camp,” the woman tells him. “I believe they meant to capture the former Traveler and return her to the Delta. I fought the Hunter, but she escaped.”
“Was it you who wounded her?”
The woman nods her head. “Where were you?”
“Soon after Darkness fell, the former Traveler left camp with a bag of belongings and a sap transport. I followed her. She and the Hunter are both nearby. The Hunter’s wound is bad. She’s weak.”
“Are they together?” she asks.
“No,” he answers. “The Hunter is tracking the former Traveler.”
“Do they know you’re here?”
The tall Murkovin leans his head out the opening of the gorge, briefly sturdies the terrain, and listens for any sounds. Only when he’s convinced that no one is nearby does he return his attention to the woman.
“The former Traveler has no idea that she was followed,” the tall Murkovin says. “She hid the transport and went to a cavern for a while. She soon moved to another. A dozen caverns lie in the canyons nearby. She’s smart. She’s staying on the move and keeping her eyes open.
“The Hunter knows where she is,” he continues, “but she saw me as well. She spotted me traveling during Darkness and followed me to pick up the former Traveler’s trail. Once I realized she was on me, I watched to see where the former Traveler stopped and then disappeared.”
“Does the Hunter know you’re still in the area?” the woman asks.
“She suspects,” he answers. “She knows how to be careful. She’ll walk half a mile or so and then double back on a different route to see if she was followed. How did you find us?”
“When the group that raided the camp escaped, one of them separated and headed to the north. I knew it had to be the Hunter by her speed. I followed her to this area, but eventually lost her. She knew I was behind her. Where is she now?”
“Not far from here,” he says. “She’s tending to her wound.”
As though the Hunter’s blade is lacerating her face again, pain seers across the woman’s cheek. “We kill her now.”
“Not yet,” he replies.
“Why not?” the woman demands.
“Keep your voice down,” he says quietly. “As I said, the Hunter is smart. When she rests, she only stops on high ground with plenty of open space to escape. She’s staying close to the former Traveler, but she’s also on alert. If she sees us coming, she could flee long before we get to her.”
“What do you propose?” she asks.
“Patience,” he says. “She has rope with her. I can only guess that she plans on using it to tie the former Traveler and return her to the Delta. When she goes after the former Traveler, she’ll be vulnerable. We can kill them both.”
“If we wait,” the woman counters, “her wound might have time to heal.”
The tall Murkovin shakes his head. “She’s lost a lot of blood and doesn’t appear to have much sap. She’ll need what she has left to travel back to the Delta. Every time she moves, her scab tears open. She needs to act soon and she knows it. If she enters a cavern to go after the former Traveler, we’ll have her trapped inside. She’ll have nowhere to run.”
The woman examines the point of her spear while considering the tall Murkovin’s plan. As much as she’d like to kill the Hunter at this very moment, the need for retribution is clouding her judgment. Patience is what has allowed her plan to progress as far as it has.
No living being is as skilled at hunting someone in the Barrens as the tall Murkovin standing in front of her. She decides to trust his judgment.
“You’re in charge,” the woman says.
“Stay a few feet behind me. Don’t make a sound and
