We require more data to believe you are trustworthy of our secrets, Brain finally said after a few minutes of back and forth with his allies. Anger, that supposed “survival drive”, rose up within me and I felt an urge to fire a few arrows, but I held back. The council back home had been entirely clear with me about this matter.
“Jump through any and all hoops,” Higgins, my beloved husband and newfound leader of New Olmstead had said. “We need their information more than anything.”
“It is true,” Verna had agreed. “What secrets they know will be worth any task they give to you. Prove yourself a hundred times if you must. If these creatures truly know the nature of our foe, we must earn their favor and trust.”
What more can we provide you? You have watched us hunt. You have seen us slay the mighty Titan outside the mountain. We are more than capable of killing any monster that stands in our path.
Brain shifted a little and tilted his head to the right, prompting the rest of the council to do so as well. This has been a preliminary trial. To observe if you are up for the real task, he said. I felt the strong, near overwhelming urge to grab my bow and show him what a real task looked like, but even Josiah’s Storm sent me a strong warning not to do so.
So this has been a test to lead up to the real test? I replied. Why waste so much of our time?
The preservation of life is of the utmost importance to us. The preservation of your lives, to be specific. You are a precious resource that cannot be replicated easily. And thus, we must be sure that you are ready.
I frowned at that but felt a bit of my annoyance dissipate. They cared about us? I didn’t know if these creatures were capable of lying or of flattery, for they spoke in rambling, detailed fashion devoid of all forms of manners or filters. Ready for what, exactly?
For entering the Shadewood to retrieve the key to unlocking everything from us, Brain said. For what we know is useless without what rests within that terrible place.
And what is it you want me to find? I asked, feeling a shudder run down my spine. Most of the telepathic communication was a mix of feelings, images and words extrapolated from a mix of those two. All I could feel from Brain was a pure sense of terror. True, unbridled terror.
The Vessel, came the reply. Vessel was a rough translation. It was closer to container or moving bucket. Something mobile, at least. Within the Vessel is everything we know. All knowledge stored in a single body. You would call the Vessel a captain, or leader, maybe even a king. Without the Vessel, we are fractured. Disjointed. Confused.
Interesting. I always felt there was something holding Brain back when he spoke. I had assumed it was simple secrecy. The idea of them missing an important part of their ranks made sense. Brain never seemed quite capable of telling me everything, though he was quite friendly.
Get to the Shadewood, find your captain and bring him home. Easy enough, I replied. I glanced back at the various hunters who were now cleaning up the tremendous mess we had made in the forest. That damn wyvern was certainly a bleeder. We had about fifty Venators available for such a big mission. More than enough to enter those woods and find a single Masara.
As if reading my thoughts, Brain interjected, sending images of hundreds of corpses. They were tiger-human hybrids, like Rashar. Do not think you are the first to find us. Many have gone to the Shadewood to bring us the missing Vessel. None have returned. Those hunters were greater than your lot. Of what we have observed, only you have a chance of returning alive. We estimate your chances of survival at 15%. All others observed are estimated to have a 1% chance of return.
Those were low odds. Too low for me to make the call for sure. This was going to have to be decided by vote. Was it worth throwing all those lives away, just to find out the truth? Or would I have to go it alone inside a place I had never heard of?
Chapter 2
The decision was unanimous. I had thought there would be a long discussion, a series of back and forth about the merits of sending a large group of people out, to increase our chances of success, but…there was no struggle. No fight. Trent, Verna and Higgins all agreed at once. Sending me into the Shadewood alone was the only option here. The strongest argument was that we simply could not afford any losses other than absolutely necessary.
The hunters in Beanpole, Stonecutters as we called them, would not be interested in going on such a long mission. And that meant we needed to keep an equal number of our own here, just in case. The recent change in the Stonecutters leadership had led to some tension between Maxwell’s Breach and the hunters who envied their underground home. There wasn’t any trouble right now…but Trent could sense trouble brewing. As could the Stonecutter’s new leader. Sending large quantities of our own out could be seen as an opportunity…and frankly, Verna was displeased with the idea of sending anyone out on what was most likely a suicide mission. Anyone but me, that is.
Of course, I had the power of veto. As the leader of Hunter’s Hope, it was within my full authority to order as many men and women into the woods as we had. But I had come to terms with the fact that my specialty was in the field. I was an excellent leader in the fight and in the hunt, but when it came to long-term decision
