No one asks why they couldn’t just leave it unconscious until they made their getaway. That works for an accidental encounter—such as when you stumble upon a predator in its own territory and just need to get off that territory safely. However, these harpies are hunting as they migrate, and as we saw earlier, they aren’t quick to give up and move on. Leave it sedated and when it wakes, it might follow you back to your camp. Or your village.
“Where’s that settlement you mentioned?” I ask Cedany.
“Maybe a half mile? I’m only guessing. We passed it quickly when I first came this way. I was told they don’t like outsiders. Our guide had tried to establish trade with them—it would be good to have a stopover on the way to Tamarel—but they ran him off.”
Wilmot nods. “They aren’t Clan Hadleigh or Clan Bellamy, and those are the only clans with proper settlements in the woods. There used to be a Hadleigh community nearby, but they moved on after the Michty River dried up. I wonder if that’s where these new people are.”
“Using the old Clan Hadleigh settlement,” I say.
“Could they have Alianor’s sister and the others?” Dain asks.
Wilmot glances at Cedany, who says, “I’ve never heard of them taking hostages for ransom, but I suppose it’s possible. Either way, we need to be careful.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The village is ahead. We hear it before we see it. Jacko and I climb a tree for a better look. Dain follows, mostly—I’m convinced—to tell me you’re going too high, get back down here, princess, that branch won’t support you, one of these days you’re going to break your neck…
“Haven’t broken it yet,” I say as I stretch out on a branch.
Jacko hops onto my back and chatters at Dain.
“Are you sure that jackalope isn’t part squirrel?” Dain mutters. “He climbs like one, and he scolds like one.”
“So do you. Especially the scolding.”
“It’s warning, princess. Someone needs to do it. That jackalope only encourages you.”
“He’s my trusty squire, not my bodyguard.” I peer through the branches at Dain. “Unless you’d like to be my trusty squire.”
He snorts.
“You could have a uniform,” I say. “It would be very colorful. I like colors. Really bright ones.”
“Are you surveying the village? Or chattering like a jay?”
I make a jay’s chattering call, and he rolls his eyes, but his lips twitch in a near-smile. Then I peer down. The village is about two hundred feet ahead and, as expected, it’s along the bank of the now-dry Michty River, a former Clan Hadleigh settlement. The area has been well cleared, which protects it from monsters—the forest being at least fifty feet from the nearest house. That also makes it easy to survey.
There are about twenty houses, which would have made it the biggest settlement in the forest. Yet when the river dried up, there was no reason for Clan Hadleigh to stay, so they packed their things and moved on. The newcomers moved in, like birds finding an abandoned nest. From what I can see, though, only about half of the houses are occupied. A few more have had the windows boarded up, which probably means they’re being used for storage. The rest have been partly dismantled and then left to rot.
Ten occupied houses. Fifty people at most. I see a few milling about. They’re all men until I spot a woman with a yoke and buckets, returning from wherever they’ve found a water source. That would be another reason Clan Hadleigh moved on. While the river flowed, they had easy access to fresh water. Now the people need to travel to find it.
I count only about a dozen people—nine men, two boys and the woman. Others must be off on a hunting trip or trading expedition. Maybe that’s where the women are, as it is with Clan Hadleigh, whose women handle expeditions while the men work as river guides.
I’m scanning the forest when I spot movement. Someone in the trees. No, someone in a tree. A sentry, perched on a wooden platform.
I quickly tell Dain what I see.
“One sentry?” he whispers.
I nod.
“Man? Woman?” he asks.
“Does it matter?”
“I guess not.”
“I can’t tell from here. Man, I think?”
We climb down to warn the others, and Wilmot decides we’ll split up. Dain and I will get closer to that sentry with Malric. Wilmot will circle downriver, and Cedany and Kaylein will circle up along the foothills. At first, I’m impressed that Wilmot’s letting me go without an adult guardian. Then I realize it’s because we’ve already spotted the sentry, so the safest job is sitting and watching him while the others approach the village.
In other words, we get the boring job. Like “patrolling” the dropbear cabin perimeter while the others dealt with the actual dropbears. Of course, that turned out to be far more exciting—and dangerous—than anyone expected. My luck—good or bad, depending on how you look at it—holds here, because as soon as we’re close enough to see the sentry platform, we stop short.
“It’s empty,” Dain whispers.
We backpedal into the forest. Then we look around. Malric and Jacko sniff the air. A grumble from the big warg tells us he’s not picking up any scent.
The sentry spotted us. Or heard us, as much as we tried to be quiet. They’ve realized we’re accompanied by a canine and moved downwind to approach us without being scented.
I bend at the knees, upright and still looking around, as I put Jacko on my shoulders. Then I pull my sword. Dain waits until I’m armed and then takes out his dagger.
Malric’s gaze shoots east. He glances at me and then draws my attention in that direction. It takes a moment before I catch movement through the trees. I nod and show Dain. He grunts. I motion that we’ll approach. I switch my sword for my dagger, which is less impressive but more useful in the dense
