Fortunately, their quarry had been easy to track-and to identify. Two trails of massive cat-like paws traced around Tuck’s farm, led to the remains of an enormous sow in the woods, and continued on up into the higher reaches of the forest. Two trails, but with six paws to each trail. Deep scratches had been torn in the wood of the sow’s pen and high on tree trunks along the trail, all without any of the twelve paws leaving the ground. Only displacer beasts-six legs and a pair of barbed tentacles sprouting from the shoulders-left spoor like that.
Not even Adolan could argue that the beasts might be passing through on their way to new hunting ground. Everywhere was a displacer beast’s hunting ground. The monsters were dumb enough to hunt anything they came across-and just smart enough to get away with it.
An uneasy thought made the hair on Geth’s arms and neck stand up again. How long had the beasts known they were being followed? Had they been toying with their pursuers even before they reached the valley?
Had the beasts led him and Adolan here deliberately?
The beasts’ trail turned back down toward the valley floor. Geth scanned the valley through gaps in the trees. The valley was uninhabited, so no chance of allies. Lots of crags and displaced boulders. Steep sides. A narrow lower mouth that was easily guarded, an upland slope that was steep and more easily descended than climbed. A good place for an ambush.
Suddenly the gentle gold of afternoon light seemed harsh and the lazy hum of insects an annoying drone. “Ado,” Geth said, “I think the beasts are trying to turn the hunt on us.”
“I know,” Adolan answered, “but don’t worry.” He twitched his head toward the sky. “Breek is watching over us.”
Geth glanced up. High above, the black dot of an eagle skimmed against bright blue. Adolan’s half-wild bird was on guard. He let out a grunt of relief. Breek’s eyes would spot any tricks the displacer beasts might try. Even so, his hands went to his belt and touched the paired, short-hafted axes that hung on either side of his waist.
“How far ahead of us do you think they are?” he asked.
“Not far. They came this way about the same time we were at the top of the slope. They’re taking their time, walking slow.” Adolan pointed at a patch of fallen leaves and Geth glanced at it as they passed. Paws had pushed the leaves down into the damp earth underneath. The prints were evenly spaced and well formed. The displacer beast that had made them was in no hurry.
He would have rather the beast had been running. He stuffed the packet of jerky into a pouch on his belt and drew one of the axes. Adolan glanced back and raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.
As they reached the valley floor, however, the druid paused. Geth stepped up beside him. “What?” he murmured.
Adolan pointed again. Geth followed his gesture. He hadn’t practiced woodcraft to the same degree as Adolan for a long time, but some skills never faded. A stream passed through this part of the valley. All around its soft banks, the grass was crushed as if the beasts had milled around like excited kittens before turning aside from their path across the valley and abandoning their casual pace. Their paws had ripped into the ground as they opened up their stride to follow the stream back down the valley’s length.
Geth stepped out into the open and slid up to the stream. Stamped in the soft ground were the marks of shod human-or at the very least, humanoid-feet. “Ado!” he hissed.
Adolan crouched down. “Ring of Siberys,” he murmured in surprise. “I think we know what got the displacer beasts excited.” He reached down and traced the shape of the footprint. “Sandals. Well-worn. And on the feet of someone light. A woman or maybe an elf.”
“No one lives in this valley.” Geth turned and peered upstream. There were traces of passage on the grass. He paced swiftly back alongside the water. More footprints revealed themselves in an unsteady line, some prints deeper and harder than others. He lifted his gaze. In the distance, the water that became the stream spilled over the steep slope at the top of the valley in a fine white cascade. He returned to Adolan’s side. “I think they came down out of the hills. They’re staggering-probably tired or wounded. They must have come a long way.”
“Well, they’ve staggered right into the path of the worst predators this valley has seen for decades,” Adolan said. He reached behind his back and freed the spear that he carried. “I think the displacer beasts have forgotten about us-they have a new toy. We need to hurry.”
Geth tightened his grip on his axe and flexed the thick muscles of his arms and shoulders. “Cousin Bear, finally!”
Adolan winced. “You don’t have to sound so eager.”
“We’ve been tracking all day. I want a fight!”
“And shifters wonder why other races feel uncomfortable around them.”
“My ancestors were predators,” Geth replied, baring his teeth.
“You’ve argued the point for me,” said Adolan in resignation. He turned and began trotting along the displacer beasts’ path. Geth shrugged, smiled, and loped along after him.
The beasts’ run slowed to a pace better suited for stealth-short bursts of speed interspersed with long moments of patient stillness. The mix of shallow toe-prints and deeper flat paw-prints told the story of their stalking. Woven among the beasts’ trail were the sandal prints of their prey, light and staggering but-to Geth’s surprise-still swift. “Whoever they are,” he grunted, “they move fast.”
Less than a dozen paces further on, Adolan grabbed his arm and pulled him quickly and silently behind a cluster of tall feathery grass by the stream’s edge. He gestured ahead. Geth nodded and rose up just enough to peer past the grass.
Ahead, the stream turned to flow around a steep rise in the valley floor. One of the displacer beasts was climbing that slope. The other already crouched atop it, peering intently down the other side. In general shape, the beasts resembled mountain lions, but so thin that every muscle stood out on their spare, six-legged frames. The thin, flexible tentacles that sprouted from their shoulders reached out to twine around saplings and branches. The tentacles ended in flat pads covered in horrid barbs that stripped the bark away from the wood.
The beasts’ blue-black fur carried a weird shimmer that made it hard to focus on them. One moment, they appeared to be in one spot-in the next, they seemed to have shifted by several feet. Geth had to squeeze his eyes closed and open them again to be sure there really were two of the creatures.
The beast still climbing the slope was easily the size of a horse. The one at the crest of the slope was bigger still, its tentacles as thick as fat serpents. A strange, throbbing growl was building in its lean, corded throat.
It took Geth a moment to realize that the huge beast was purring with bloodthirsty pleasure. A heartbeat later, it sank down low to the ground and slid forward out of sight. The second followed.
“They’re closing in!” he snarled.
“Go!” urged Adolan. “I have your back!”
Geth tore through the tall grass. He surged up to the crest of the slope, bounding and leaping from side to side with an ease no human could have matched. At the top of the rise, he paused long enough to take in the scene below. Through the trees and a little off to one side was one of the rocky outcroppings that dotted the valley like enormous roots thrust up by the hills. The displacer beasts had joined together, the larger of the two taking the lead. Their prey stood cornered against the outcropping.
Geth’s eyes narrowed. Adolan’s assessment of the footprints by the stream had been right-the beast’s prey was a woman and a human. His own judgment had been right as well, though. The woman must have come a long way because she certainly wasn’t from the Eldeen. Her skin was an exotic bronze-brown color and her hair was long, straight, and black. Weariness showed clearly in her face, but Geth saw her push it aside and ready a short spear with a pale shaft and a strangely crystalline head, then look up to glare at the larger beast with single-minded determination.