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The Fledglings ~ A Winding Path
The Fledglings ~ A Winding Path
The Fledglings ~ A Winding Path
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The Fledglings ~ A Winding Path

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After crossing the Great Divide, the Fledgling travelers face challenges in Terrenor; while El wonders if her ability as Seer is diminishing along with Sakros City. Her desire to understand what the original Sakrosian Council left unfinished is thwarted-by something or someone. The Prophetess, Lita, knows the potential for destruction to follow

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJul 7, 2020
ISBN9781733792042
The Fledglings ~ A Winding Path
Author

E. DeLaurentis

Elizabeth DeLaurentis is an author living in Florida, writing Fantasy and Historical Fiction. Her debut novel was The Fledglings - A Great Divide, the first book in the Sakrosians Series trilogy.After years as a designer building physical environments, Elizabeth pursued creating imaginary worlds inhabited by thoughtful, struggling, witty, and sometimes ridiculous characters.Elizabeth's writing emphasizes strong female characters who face the challenges of their time in history and, with perseverance, choose to make an indelible impact.

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    The Fledglings ~ A Winding Path - E. DeLaurentis

    The Fledglings

    A Winding Path

    Sakrosians Series

    Book 2

    Elizabeth DeLaurentis

    © 2020 Elizabeth DeLaurentis

    All rights reserved.

    No part of this document may be reproduced in whole or in part, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission of

    Elizabeth DeLaurentis, Writing Studio LLC.

    This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

    Cover Art © 2020 Elizabeth DeLaurentis

    ISBN 978-1-7337920-3-5 (paperback)

    ISBN 978-1-7337920-4-2 (ebook)

    With gratitude for my family and friends for their support.

    Contents

    Raf Survives

    El’s Joy

    Ravine Bridge

    Lita’s Guidance

    Raf Follows

    Newyk

    Behra’s Village

    Dense Images

    The Survivors

    Kostr’s Awareness

    The Explanation

    Into the Mist

    The Mist Appears

    Energy Work

    Aza in the Mist

    The Dark One

    A Beacon

    El’s Report

    Planked Bridge

    El’s Perception

    Norwyk Spring

    Banishment

    Gar’s Tribe

    Ved’s Travels

    Deer Hunt

    Confronting Lita

    Norwyk Men Decide

    Dissipation

    Fortifying Newyk

    Intimidation

    Intention

    Ak’s Circlet

    Behra’s Path

    Lita’s Assistance

    Cousins

    They Took Them

    Another Journey

    El’s Concern

    Nurturers Assist

    Alignment

    Return to Norwyk

    Night Watch

    Bows and Arrows

    Council Shift

    Travelers’ Destination

    Reverence

    Scout Returns

    Yana’s Confession

    Chant

    Hasa’s Story

    Determination

    Grotto

    Council Meeting

    A Winding Path

    Terrenor Images

    Manipulation

    Ak’s Guidance

    That Is Love

    Compelled

    El’s Distress

    Newyk Unease

    Carefully Worded

    Each Skill

    Aza’s Assistance

    Two Travel Stealthily

    Archive Visit

    Norwyk

    Lita’s Gathering

    Little Ones Travel

    A Collapse

    Confrontation

    Go to Behra

    Two Can Manipulate

    The Warning

    Council Convenes

    The Tribe

    Directive Change

    Characters

    Raf Survives

    Raf huddled near a ridge along the shore of the river, disoriented and shivering. He had cowered on the northern bank for at least a day, maybe more, barely aware of the darkness through the dampening rain after fighting Telek and trying to survive the raging rapids. Finally, the sol shone. He knew he needed to force his bruised body to move, but he wasn’t sure how far down the shore he was from the other travelers. Even the sound of the river made him queasy. He stood, shaking, as he clung to the stone edifice, squinting toward the east. If he was across from their camp, he should be able to see the protruding boulders. He saw nothing but the gray rock ridge and churning water, no indication of the others who should have crossed the river.

    He tripped across the rocky bank, realizing he could barely move his left arm. He wasn’t going to make much progress hobbling on the slippery sandstone. He glanced up the ridge. If he could climb to the top, it might be easier for him to see how far he was from the camp on the southern shore. But the steep ridge would be impossible to climb from his location.

    He turned to look downriver, opposite of where he wanted to go, debating if he might be able to climb some jutting rocks. It looked promising, so he stumbled west, resting frequently to catch his breath. He climbed the first two ledges with only his right hand and his exhausted legs. At the third tier, he jumped, throwing his torso onto the ledge and scrambling to pull up his legs. He lay there for a bit, panting and looking at the rest of the rocks he would have to climb. He wished he had Verit’s rope and harness.

    Raf examined the spaces between ledge stones, placed his right hand high, and dug his toes into gaps to climb. He would have to use his left arm. He screamed in pain as he reached for a handhold to pull himself higher.

    Move more quickly; get this over with! he shouted, wondering if anyone could hear. He closed his eyes and reached for the upper ledge, willing his strength to pull himself up the rocks. He was glad no one was there to see his tears of pain; he was hungry and miserable. Telek would have ridiculed him.

    As he lay on the rocks, recovering from the climb, he thought through the previous days. The travelers had worked diligently on their plan to cross the river at the Great Divide, building rafts, placing guide ropes between the boulders, and practicing. The night before they attempted the crossing, he told Luken he wanted to be the first to step onto the new bank. It had been an argument with Telek for years, ever since his rival had claimed dominion over land at the Norwyk village. His motivation for joining the journey was to make sure Telek couldn’t be the only one to claim land in Terrenor. He wasn’t sure how Telek had realized his motives, but Raf had seen it in his deranged eyes—Telek would have done anything to stop him from crossing the river first.

    Raf sat up and gazed east; he saw nothing but rapids. How far was he from the boulders where the others should be? Of course, they might’ve left me, he thought. He stared at the river, following the turbulent rapids below him as they rushed past. He rubbed his eyes; it looked like the river dropped off suddenly. Thunder! If he hadn’t made it to the bank where he did, he would have disappeared over the edge. He crawled to the rim of the ledge, peering along the shore. He didn’t see Telek. He sat back, breathing heavily, wondering where his rival, his childhood friend, was.

    As he stared aimlessly at the horizon, he saw someone climb a ledge past the river drop. He rubbed his eyes again. It looked like a woman. She faced the river and raised her arm, then turned and moved north into the woods. Raf didn’t know who she was, but she had a pack. Which meant she had food.

    Raf stood shakily and followed her.

    El’s Joy

    El, the Seer, returned to her room in the Twin Trunks sector of Sakros City when the full lune was hovering over the western woods. In just a few hours, the sol would rise. She had stayed later than anticipated at Lalli’s confection festival. She should rest and rejuvenate, but she was still humming from the music and dancing.

    She sat gazing out the window overlooking Sakros City, thinking about all that had happened since the last full lune. She had watched the travelers from a distance and had reported the good news to the Council—they had crossed the Great Divide into Terrenor! She had also finally explained Behra to them, the forest dweller who had shown the travelers the passage behind a waterfall. El was thrilled when the Councilors praised her, rather than admonishing her for failing to report sooner, almost a year ago, when the woman brought her Fledgling child to the city.

    Ved, the Logistics Commander, had waited for her after the meeting. Strolling across the city center, he had asked her to share more detailed images of the path the travelers took. He intended to send more Fledgling groups north now that they knew they could reach Terrenor. El planned on watching Ved’s training work after she visited Behra’s daughter on the morrow.

    She hoped Lita wouldn’t be visiting at the same time. El couldn’t avoid her in the Council meetings, but she still had reservations about the Prophetess, and she was uncertain of what the original Council members had decided when they established the transformation into a new species. Sakrosians had chosen their ethereal existence, an illusion of physical form. It was Explorers who desired to roam the Gaia, not tethered to their collective energy source, which had inspired the Magistrate’s experiments. Lita had convinced the Council of the potential for Fledglings to evolve, to embody a more profound experience than what Sakrosians could achieve, despite the consequences to their own existence. As more transformed, the remaining had less communal energy to maintain their city. Despite Lita’s prophecy, El’s images showed that the Fledglings were far from achieving what was intended.

    Oh! El had promised herself not to dwell on their demise. Not tonight, when she just wanted to feel the joy of a celebration. The continued collapse of structures around the city was enough of a reminder.

    El shook her head to clear the depressing thoughts away, her chestnut hair tumbling across her shoulders. She glanced down at the garment that Lalli had coaxed her to conjure, a silly display of feathers and flowers in cascading loops on a skirt as wide as she was tall. She touched the headpiece and pulled it into her lap, laughing, remembering the Confectionaire at the party who had concocted a tiered display of sweets. Lalli had convinced her to don the top tier as a hat. El stood and conjured a table to keep the display; she would maintain the projection to remember the festivities.

    El circled her arms and shifted her attire. The costume was appropriate for the party but looked ridiculous in her dwelling. She conjured a flowing gown; the fawn color emulated the hides the Fledglings wore. She sat near the window and stared across the city, feeling the soaring sensation that took her over the terrain to see distant images. She saw the villages flanking the northern outskirts, then continued to float above the forests until she reached Norwyk, where the travelers had embarked on their journey toward the Great Divide. El wished she could convey to the villagers that the expedition had reached Terrenor. She had attempted to send information to Astra, a village elder, but she couldn’t tell if her message had been received.

    She had been able to communicate with three of the travelers, who managed to perceive glimpses in their dreams. Verit, the weaver, had accepted El’s images as guidance. Luken, the woodsman, had done well despite initial concerns about his immaturity.

    El had known Wenda was perceptive the moment she had met the eleven-year-old girl. Her aunt and uncle, the bakers, had permitted Wenda and her brother to join the travelers, but Hasa had perished on the steep ledges of the canyon in their first attempt to descend the Great Divide. They had faced so many challenges; El had worried their journey would fail.

    Yet it was Wenda who had found Behra, at a time when the travelers despaired they wouldn’t be able to cross the raging river rapids. El was astonished when she had watched the image of Behra jumping into the turbulent water near the falls, with Luken following. She feared they would drown, but amazingly, Behra had emerged on the opposite bank.

    Now the eight travelers were walking north, finding a path through Terrenor, as Lita had prophesied. El was relieved the Norwyk villagers with diverse skills, whom she, Ak, and Ved had selected, contributed to their survival. Luken could use his expertise to fell trees when the travelers settled. Wenda knew how to make bread like her uncle. Verit’s sister, Yana, knew which plants they could forage to eat, and her talent with a bow and arrow helped in the hunter’s exploits. Velar had snared several animals for their meals, and the hides had been prepared by Iwar and his wife, Nila. Iwar had shown his son, Deik, how to mark the maps to track their travels.

    Not all the travelers who had journeyed from Norwyk had succeeded in reaching Terrenor. El shuddered as she remembered her Council report of the failed crossing. Telek, the builder, had caused chaos in their attempt to raft across the river. His erratic behavior nearly tossed his wife, Verit, and her sister into the rapids. Then he had attacked Luken and the farmer, Raf, in the lead raft. Luken had managed to swim back and rowed to the shore with Verit and Yana while the others watched. But Telek and Raf had not returned to their camp. El had been so disgusted by their altercation that she refrained from watching the two men to see what happened.

    Her images flitted from what she had watched to her Council reports. Their scowls reflected her own irritation about the crossing calamity. But they shared her exuberance when she reported the travelers’ finding the ledge behind the waterfall. Even Ak’s robes, which often reflected his mood, had turned from roiling blacks to bright blue. El had lingered in the Chamber after the others left, the light emitted from their exultant energy enhancing her determination to contribute even more to the Directive than what her Seer’s skill typically entailed.

    Of course, she would continue to watch and report the progress of all Fledglings as they traveled across the Gaia to form new communities. But she also wanted to explore what the original Council had not accomplished. She just didn’t know how to start.

    The sol rays began to shine into her dwelling, matching the dawn light she saw in the images of Terrenor. Perhaps Behra would lead her to an insight, just as the woman of the forest had led the travelers. El searched the woods, farther north than the other travelers. She focused on a movement, someone hobbling through the trees. El watched closely until she recognized the tunic, dirty leggings, and red hair of Raf, the farmer. She pulled her awareness back into her room and sat stunned. How had Raf survived the embattled crossing with Telek? She had assumed, like the others, that he had tumbled over the falls. El attempted to soar again into the image, but her exhaustion overwhelmed her. Why hadn’t Raf reunited with the others?

    Ravine Bridge

    Enek stared across the ravine while his cousin packed their tools. A black bird swooped down toward the stream below them and cawed as it soared away.

    We should return to Norwyk. I hope we can walk a third of the way before nightfall, Onkos said.

    I want to test the sturdiness once more, Enek replied as he stepped across the wooden planks wrapped by vines. Woodsmen from their village had chopped the two tallest trees they could find and helped shove them across the span. Then they had left, not willing to camp in the cold, while he and Onkos finished placing the planks. The rope handholds swayed as he crossed the bridge and checked the attachment on the northern side. He climbed to the top of the ledge and gazed north. He shivered in the chilled breeze; they might have flakes soon. He regretted turning back when the old bridge had collapsed, leaving the other travelers to walk on with the man he despised. Telek had been a bully since childhood, so Enek worried how his selfishness would affect their journey.

    Even if he wanted to follow the travelers, he didn’t have the supplies to make it through the bitter season. He was curious to know if they had crossed the Great Divide. At least the bridge was repaired if they needed to return to Norwyk. He turned and crossed where Onkos waited patiently.

    The tall ones were wise to insist the travelers have diverse skills, Onkos said as he clasped Enek’s shoulder. They can build shelters to survive this weather.

    Enek nodded. Velar is a good hunter, so they should have food to eat. After six months of travel, they would have few supplies left. He sighed as he strode through the woods.

    I, too, wish we knew how they fared on their journey. Onkos glanced at his cousin as he matched his stride. She is strong; she will face any danger with courage.

    She?

    I know who you think about most among the travelers, Onkos answered. Remember, I was there before we had to turn back. I saw your glances toward Yana when you thought no one noticed.

    If we hurry, we should reach the berry patch by tomorrow night. There we can camp and return to Norwyk the next day, Enek replied.

    Are you in such a hurry to return to your wife?

    I am resigned to the life I have. Making tools serves a purpose for our village. There is nothing to gain by thinking of a different path.

    It’s good we repaired the bridge. It is wider and sturdier than when it was first built. It’s possible they might return. Or other travelers could follow.

    Enek kept his somber thoughts to himself as he started jogging between the trees. He had refrained from asking Astra if she had sensed anything from the Sakrosians. The tall ones had promised to convey the travelers’ progress. But if Onkos had detected his feelings toward Yana, then the elder woman would surely assume why he wanted to know.

    Lita’s Guidance

    El gathered an iris root-gray shawl around her shoulders as she stepped onto the hovercraft. She caressed the accent yarns of woad blue and sorrel green she had conjured to emulate one of the shawls Verit had woven. The hovercraft floated above the river of energy as it meandered through Sakros City. To the eastern residences. I am in no hurry, El said to the craft.

    She glanced behind the vessel at the tall structures where she had manifested her dwelling. An array of treelike towers rose behind the mansions as the hover wound along the serpentine path that led to the city center. Streamers flew from Lalli’s manor, the largest along the river. A murmur of rainbow-colored ribbons took flight, danced on the breeze, and settled back onto the trees in her friend’s garden.

    As the hover shifted direction, she closed her eyes, anticipating the lyrical sound of Sakrosian conversations who gathered at the center of the city. She opened her eyes to gaze south across the plaza, where the sol’s glint on the Council Chamber dome glimmered like gold. Several Council members had once resided in the sprawling Complex, but now only Ak had rooms along the corridors where Sentinels stood vigil in their alcoves.

    The river looped behind the white towers flanking the eastern edge of the city center. A jumble of pristine boxes and cylinders rose, with one dwelling floating in midair, attached to an adjacent neighbor by an arched bridge. The common Sakrosian element conjured in the tall structures and the rustic cottages east of the river was the shimmering filament windows. As the hover approached her destination, El gazed toward the charming bungalows surrounded by gardens. The Fledgling villages beyond their city modeled this neighborhood more than the other Sakrosian structures.

    An elder woman stood in a copse of evergreens and watched the hover glide past. El recognized her from the Secrecy Magistrate and raised her hand in greeting.

    Good day to you, Kei.

    Kei returned the greeting, waving a bunch of greenery she had snipped from bushes, sending a spray of blue-hued berries toward the river. El inhaled the woody juniper, pungently infusing the river’s shimmering energy.

    El disembarked at the next platform, expressing her gratitude to the hover before walking along the tranquil path that led to Lita’s cottage. For some reason, the Prophetess had chosen to change her dwelling to an eastern hut. It was certainly less austere than the stonelike edifice of the Chamber Complex, but she had the impression the move had diminished Lita’s role on the Council. Or perhaps it provided an opportunity for Lita to conceal her activities from the watchful Sentinels.

    She shivered in the breeze as chimes jingled among the branches. She gathered her shawl tighter, thinking of the light snow that had fallen on the travelers in Terrenor, images she would share with Lita. The three travelers with whom she communicated had been receptive, in their dreams, to information El conveyed about the terrain. At the beginning of their journey, they were reluctant to share what they dreamed, especially when it caused distrust among the others. Verit had suffered her husband’s rage when Telek suspected her of conspiring against his authority, but they no longer had to deal with his vindictive behavior. Wenda had a tendency to wander in search of what she had seen in dreams, so the others kept watch when she tried disappearing into the woods.

    El was pleased the travelers now spoke more openly; it encouraged cohesiveness. Yet she had questions about the path they were taking that she speculated only the Prophetess could answer. Despite her reservations, she was too curious about her visions to avoid Lita.

    The diminutive elder stood in the doorway of her cottage, waiting for El. The gown she conjured had a short ginger-toned bodice overlapping a wide, stiff, bark-colored skirt. The flowing sleeves were embroidered with viburnum leaves and red berries. Her gray tresses were wrapped tightly in a braided knot.

    Did your skill of seeing potential alert you to my arrival? El asked.

    You took a leisurely approach, Lita answered curtly. I have been waiting since the sol rise. She turned into the room and took a kettle from the hearth, pouring the steaming fluid over a bowl of chamomile petals; the aroma wafted through the cottage. El glanced around the home, conjured to look like a cozy wooden hut with rafters rising to a peak. A hearth of chiseled slate surrounded a glowing fire. El nestled into one of the two chairs that faced the blaze and inhaled the chamomile.

    Lita returned the kettle to the hearthstone and then flicked her hand to conjure a gossamer surface that floated in front of the fire. Show me, she said as she perched on the chair, gazing at the screen.

    El projected images spanning several days of the travelers’ progress. They had wandered through trees north of the Great Divide, which eventually opened onto a meadow that stretched toward the vast eastern mountains looming in the distance. There they had found a river they followed north into forests. Velar hunted in the woods with Yana and Deik.

    El flicked through more images: Iwar and Nila preparing the hides from the hunts to make capes to help against the cold; Iwar continuing to mark his maps as they traveled; Luken climbing trees to see farther along the river; Verit sketching, in the mud, a diagram she saw in her dreams.

    El had searched the area, conveying images of the river they followed north and another one flowing west they had not yet reached on their path. El knew from Ved’s Fledgling training that they should settle near a water source, but she wondered why they continued traveling instead of choosing a location. There were abundant trees Luken could fell for huts. The weather would get colder the farther north they walked.

    Good, they kept going, Lita said as she watched.

    She projected an image of Wenda, sitting near their campfire, gazing into the flames, her blonde curls glistening in the light. El looked at Lita, who smiled and nodded. As the Prophetess stared at the gossamer, her pose emulated the girl’s contemplation.

    They have been able to find wild teff grains, so Wenda can continue to make the flat loaves she learned from her uncle, El said. But it has taken me several days to realize Wenda is doing something else as she sits by the fire.

    Lita turned to catch El watching her intently. What do you suppose that is?

    El waved her hand in a circular motion in front of the screen to show what she had seen the previous day as the travelers huddled beside their fire. Verit and Luken relayed their dreams of the two rivers from El’s images. Iwar and Velar discussed whether it was better to form a settlement near the south-flowing water or walk farther to the westerly river. They had difficulty determining distance from the dream images. Verit had started a diagram in the mud when Wenda rose and asked for the stick. The girl traced lines to represent the rivers to a point where they converged.

    Wenda’s voice rang as if enchanted through the image El projected. The tributaries split apart at a delta of a large river that flows from the mountains through a gorge. At the south end of the gorge, there is a stone crag that can form a wall for our lodge. We should settle there, where the crag will protect us from the wind. The village we build will be called Newyk.

    The other travelers debated Wenda’s suggestion until Yana admitted none of them had a better idea than the girl who found Behra. The image showed them setting off to find the crag.

    Ha ha! Lita chuckled. You were right about that girl. Getting her to go on the journey was the wisest thing you have done.

    The gossamer disappeared as El stared at Lita. I shared images of the terrain the three perceived in their dreams. But the notion of naming their village did not come from me.

    They left Norwyk behind. Once they establish a new village, they will have no thoughts of returning, Lita said confidently.

    What I do not understand—El leaned toward Lita—is how you are communicating with her. First about Behra and now the crag location.

    Lita feigned an injured response as she rose to grab the kettle and dumped more liquid onto the petals. Some Fledglings are more perceptive than others.

    As I recall, there was a time when you admonished my attempts to help the travelers. You accused me of interfering in their potential. But you seem to have revised your opinion that Fledglings should be left to determine their own path without Sakrosian intervention.

    Lita huffed as she closed her eyes and fingered the embroidery on her sleeve. The red berries scampered away from her clutch, gathering behind the hem where she couldn’t reach. I acknowledge they need our guidance. The potential of what the Fledglings can accomplish in Terrenor is too important. I did not know with certainty that the woman of the forest knew a way to cross the Great Divide. I have never said the prophecies foretell one straight path.

    She opened her eyes and stared intently at El. You saw Behra when she brought her child to our city, but you did not follow where she traveled afterward.

    I am well aware of my skill’s limitations. I did not watch Behra; I had not even seen the falls. I had no notion of a way to cross behind the cascading water, El said with a rueful shrug.

    You have done what the Council expected by sharing images of the many travelers who progress across the Gaia. Perhaps you were too attached to the travails of this group. Ved would not have accomplished his training adjustments without your input. I will defend your contribution to the Council.

    El sat back, stunned. Why would she need to be defended? I, um, I had not studied the Great Divide enough to see the falls, so I did not anticipate what would happen if some failed to cross the river in their rafts.

    Telek made choices that impaired his leadership abilities, Lita said sharply. He was not amenable to guidance.

    Did you try? El asked.

    You correctly assessed which villagers in Norwyk were receptive. Of course I was perceiving potential for the travelers. But as you are aware, their arrogance is detrimental to fulfilling their destiny.

    As Lita became more agitated, the mist from the steaming petals encircled her head. She couldn’t actually smell the aroma—others could—so she used the ruse to portray a mystical persona. She flicked her hands to clear the wafts. The girl is special. All the wandering that irritated the others served a purpose. She found the woman of the forest while the rest floundered in sorrow and frustration.

    It would be safer if she did not wander alone, El said.

    She and the others will establish a new community in Terrenor. The crag location near the river delta is a good site. They need every advantage the terrain can provide.

    Raf Follows

    Raf hobbled along a ridge that rose slightly higher than the path the woman followed. From his vantage point, he watched where she picked leaves to eat, but his hunger was not abated by foraging for greens.

    This is awful. I don’t know where I am, and I don’t know where she’s going. I should just go back toward the river, he grumbled to himself, slumping against a tree, leaning on a stick he had picked up for support—or to use as a spear if needed. There was a rustling in the underbrush nearby. Raf paused and listened. Then he swung the spear quickly and smacked a hare before it could dash away. Not quite Velar’s technique, but it will do for a more substantial meal, he thought.

    He glanced around the base of the tree, cleared a patch of dirt, and looked for firewood. Right, the tall one said, ‘Fire, food, shelter,’ in that order. He didn’t expect anyone to respond, but thinking aloud was better than the unbearable silence.

    The only tool he still had was his farming hoe. He unleashed the handle tied to his belt and attempted to remove the pelt. Velar told me that when he hunted alone, he buried the meat. It took longer, but the smell was less likely to attract predators. He dug into the dirt, covered the carcass, and piled the wood on top. It took several flicks of his flint to get the kindling to catch. The damp wood was slow to burn. At least I can have some heat in this chill, Raf said to no one. I hope talking to myself isn’t a sign I’m becoming a wretch.

    While he waited, he scoured the trees for straight, sturdy branches and began to chisel points on one end. Raf gathered rocks, which he had done each night, so he had something to hurl. When he smelled the meat, he dug into the ashes to check if it had cooked. He heard a snap and spun around. He grabbed his spear and scanned the trees, convinced there was something nearby. He circled his fire, looking into the woods for any movement. It occurred to him to look up. He jumped when he saw the woman perched among branches, several trees away, watching him.

    Thunder! That’s what Luken looked like peering down from the trees.

    Raf strode toward the tree, his spear clenched in his hand. I thought you kept going. I stopped following.

    The woman said nothing as she stared at him. Raf was closer to her than he had dared before and noticed her hide tunic was stitched like his own. He touched the hide. I don’t know how it’s possible, but your garment looks like Nila’s work. Did you come from a village?

    She gave no response, just cocked her head, listening.

    You should come down from there.

    Again, she said nothing.

    His hunger pangs convinced him to give up and return to his fire. He sat where he could watch her and dug the meat from the ashes. He wiped off the charred skin and broke into a piece. Finally, something to eat.

    He kept glancing at her perch. He added more branches to the fire. It’s much warmer here than up in the tree. I’d be willing to share a bite.

    He felt guilty watching her as she stared at him. He stomped toward the tree with a piece of meat in his hand. You’ve got to be hungry too—nothing but leaves to eat. When she didn’t move, he found a rock and placed the

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