Little One

by Nate Philbrick

  The wolves worked themselves into a frenzy, barking and growling at their prey.

  Ram kicked at the lead dog, though his position on the log was too precarious for him to put much strength behind his jabs.

  Daniel quickened his pace, and immediately regretted it. His left leg slipped on the slimy log, and he began to slide off. Panicking, he latched onto the trunk with both arms, stopping his descent. He remained there, panting, with one leg dangling above the emptiness below, the other half-straddling the tree.

  Daniel grunted through his clenched teeth, trying to pull himself back upright. The log was too slick; he couldn't get a firm grip on anything.

  Kora planted herself on her stomach, latched onto Ram’s shirt with one hand, and stretched out her other arm towards Daniel. “Take my hand!”

  Daniel reached for her, and their fingertips met, but the motion caused him to slip farther down. His legs dangled over the broiling river below. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold on.

  Ram gave a shout. “It’s got my foot!”

  Daniel slid down a bit more. He couldn't help it—he glanced down at the river, and his head began to spin. Someone shouted his name, but he couldn't tell if it had been Ram or Kora. It could have been both.

  He closed his eyes for a moment and breathed deeply. When he opened them again, the dizziness had subsided, and he dared to look back down. The stretch of river below the bridge was flowing quickly, but no rocks jutted out of the water and no rapids formed.

  The wolf still had its jaws locked around Ram’s boot. In another moment, the beast would drag him down into the pack.

  Daniel did the only thing he could think to do in that frantic moment. There wasn't time to warn the others. He closed his eyes, lunged for Kora’s hand, and let go of the log. He locked onto her wrist, and like a derailed train, men, girl, and wolf plummeted into the chasm.

  The air sucked him down like a vacuum, ripping him away from Kora, and all sound was drowned out by the rush of wind in his ears. His stomach lurched into his throat. He tried without much success to straighten his body so as to hit the water with his feet.

  A split second later, Daniel plunged into the river.

  The icy mountain water beat against his chest, pushing the air out of his lungs. His mouth opened and he found himself taking in water. He had no idea which way up was. He kicked his legs, and found the bottom of the river with his foot.

  He put both feet on the stony riverbed, gathered his strength, and pushed. Up and up he swam, but the current battered him and spun him head over heels. The frigid water pounded in his ears. He clawed, desperately reaching for the surface. His lungs burned; his strength ebbed.

  Frozen darkness enveloped him, and he knew he was drowning.

  Chapter Seven

  Tess glanced up at the cloud-ridden sky. The rain was slacking off, and that wasn't good news for her and the two Preceptors that accompanied her. In the valley below, the rest of the company and all the machinery glowed in the night like a miniature stage, and the ridges they traversed were the amphitheater.

  She shook her head in dismay. No wonder the Akorites had chosen these hills as their vantage point—they could hide within the confines of the evergreens and retain complete control over the comings and goings of the Preceptors, monitoring them from their secluded lair. But if it was that easy, why had they only shot once?

  It had to be Maravek. They must want him dead. It just made sense. Could they have predicted that a First Preceptor would intervene if they ambushed the train? Had it been their plan all along to draw Maravek into their territory where they could target him in relative safety? If so, he needed to be warned. He shouldn't be out in the open with the other Preceptors. Maybe if he remained hidden in the caves with the townspeople, the Akorites would back off. She shook her head. Maravek would never be convinced to go into hiding. He was far too reckless and egotistic for that.

  Preceptor Moriah never let more than a few yards separate them as they ventured farther into the forest. "We're getting close, aren't we?"

  "We are." Tess motioned for the low ranker bringing up the rear to join them. "Remember, our sole objective is to pin their position and gather whatever intelligence possible. If any of you are spotted, do not engage. Understood? Get away as fast as you can."

  Setting a slow pace, Tess led the party of three southwest, always keeping the valley with the tracks to their left. Until now they had been gaining height in the hills immediately to the northwest of the valley, but now they doubled around. She hoped that by doing this, they would run into the Akorites’ encampment.

  She eyed the train in the valley again. She could make out the tiny shapes of the Preceptors milling around the tracks, darting in and out from cover, presumably all following Maravek's orders. Though none of them would admit it, Tess knew fear was settling in.

  The whole evacuation should have only taken a couple days. By now, the townspeople could be safely in Galaratheas, waiting to start new lives, and she could be on her next assignment, probably from the comfort of the capitol. Instead, they were all trapped in the middle of the mountains, lives had been lost, and she was forced to keep fighting a war that had already been won. Her spirits were damp enough without having to work under the likes of Maravek. She could only hope her reconnaissance mission might finally put an end to this nightmare.

  Tess stopped abruptly and put a hand in the air, signaling the others. A narrow trail opened up before them, disappearing into the shadows of a close-knit tangle of spindly oak and bramble.

  She remained motionless and tense, like a spring ready to be released. Nothing ventured forth from the trail, and no man-made sound broke through the drizzle of the rain and the occasional forest thrush. The trail itself was little more than an uneven strip of beaten down terrain, a marker of a frequented path. It wasn't wide enough to accommodate any manner of heavy vehicle, but it was a lead nonetheless.

  After a final minute of attentive silence, Tess was satisfied, and she signaled with her fingers for them to proceed. She drew her sidearm, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Moriah do the same.

  She took the lead down the trail, with Moriah right at her heel. Preceptor Bryn brought up the rear with her gun at the ready.

  Tess kept her eyes fixed on the forest ahead of her.

  A rustling of leaves brought her once more to a halt, and a hissing form dropped to the trail in front of her. Pale eyes glowed in the dark; glue-like spittle hung from clicking jaws. She froze, her heart quickening.

  The snapjaw cocked its head at her like a bird, trilling softly in its throat.

  A wet snick and a gargled cry made her spin around. Preceptor Bryn crumpled lifeless to the ground, a snapjaw riding her shoulders, its blade-like claw deep between her shoulder blades.

  More of the forest insects descended upon them like a bloodthirsty horde, swarming down the tree trunks in a cacophony of shrill cries and scratching claws.

  Tess wasted no time—her instincts took over, and she pulled Moriah away from Bryn’s limp body. “Go, go!”

  She kicked the first snapjaw in the beak, sending the insect rolling off the trail. While the members of the horde fought for possession of their kill, Tess and Moriah took off down the trail. As sickening as the thought was, one dead human wouldn’t keep them busy for long.

  “How are we going to get back to the valley?”

  Tess’s eyebrows drew together. “We can’t afford to lead them there.”

  “Then where?” She glanced over her shoulder and stifled a gasp. “They’re already after us. We need a plan.”

  “Working on it.”

  At that moment, she felt the ground under them shift, and before she could react to it, a net rose from under the decaying leaves and drew the two of them together in a tight jumble of arms and legs.

  Tess struggled with all her strength, but the cords wrapped around them would not give. They were trapped, hanging over the trail like meat in a cellar, with a horde
of snapjaws bearing down on them.

  The forest echoed with the cries of the starving insects.

  “Can you reach your knife?” Said Tess. They had mere moments before they’d be ripped limb from limb.

  Moriah grunted as she strained against the net, but to no avail.

  Tess closed her eyes and braced herself.

  Gunfire erupted all around them. Bullets sprayed into the swarm, and the snapjaws were mowed down like wheat into a quivering heap.

  Then it was over. Silence reclaimed the forest.

  A band of men emerged from trees on either side of the trail. Their forest hues of green and brown garments gave away their identity—Akorites. Six of the mountain guerillas surrounded the net, their weapons resting in their hands.

  Tess was able to catch Moriah’s eye. She shook her head. Though fuming at this turn of events, she knew it was futile to resist.

  “Take them.”

  A dart pierced Tess’s leg, and she felt herself slipping away. The last thing she thought before blacking out was, I did this.

  * * *

  Daniel groaned and rolled over, whether from his stomach to his back or his back to his stomach, he couldn’t quite tell. He lay still. Static filled his ears, and his whole body hurt. Presently, he became aware of smooth, warm stones under him, and he concluded he was, in fact, lying on his stomach.

  The sun beat down on his back, and yet he welcomed the warmth. Something told him that for a long time he had been cold, but he couldn’t recall why.

  He moved his hands along the hard ground. Sand and pebbles grated against his palms. Slowly but surely, his mind began to clear, and the events from the night reorganized themselves in his head. None of them were very pleasant.

  Daniel rolled onto his back and forced his eyes open. Sunlight beamed down on him, and he had to squint so as to not be blinded. He opened his mouth to speak, but his throat felt raw, and he could only cough.

  “I’ll have you know,” said a voice nearby, “It’s taken you good and long enough to come around.”

  Daniel pushed himself to a sitting position. Ram sat on a chunk of driftwood a few feet from him, his chin in his hands and a forlorn expression on his face.

  Daniel leaned to the side and coughed some more in an attempt to get his throat back in order. He tried speaking again, but his voice came out like croaking sandpaper.

  “I’d give you water to drink,” said Ram without moving, “But you’ve already swallowed half the river, and besides, we have no canteens anymore, so I’m afraid you’re out of luck.”

  Daniel stood on wobbling legs and took a look around. They were on a sandbar in the middle of the Weeping River, in a place where the water ran swift but shallow, rippling and gurgling over a bed of flat stones. The sandbar itself was dotted with driftwood and stones that had been worn smooth by the elements. The sun was out—it must have been mid-morning—and the night’s storm clouds were nowhere to be seen. On either side of the river, the forest rose like tangled, green walls.

  Ram, despite the scratch on his cheek from their brawl with the Akorites last night, looked to be well enough, but of Kora, there was no sign.

  “This,” said Ram, gesturing at the rapids, “Is the crossing Kora was leading us too before those goons found us in the woods. Even with the current, we could have marched straight across without a care—I’ve tested it; the water is knee-high at its deepest. Of course, with us, nothing seems to go as planned.”

  Daniel cleared his throat, spat, and managed to force out a raspy voice. “What happened?”

  Ram clasped his hands together and leaned with his elbows on his knees. “Where would you like me to begin?”

  “I remember the bridge. After that, nothing.”

  “That’s to be expected,” said Ram with a snort, “Since you’ve been half-dead since then. It’s simple, really. I don’t know what possessed you to let go of the log, but you did, and I suppose it saved our lives, seeing as how the wolves were at my feet and weren’t about to stop there. Well, by the time I cleared the surface, I’d lost sight of you and Kora, and it was like treading shards of ice, so I made it to shore as quickly as I could.” He paused and stared at the water. “That’s when things went sour. I saw Kora. She was floundering out in the current—more in than out—and making no progress towards shore. I called out to her, but the river sucked her under, and I had no choice but to go in after her. She’d sunk clear to the bottom by the time I found her, and I realized the backpack had caught her leg and pulled her down. I found her knife, cut her loose, and dragged her to shore. She’d taken in a lot of water, but a couple fits of coughing cleared her lungs before she passed out.”

  Daniel rubbed his numb legs back to life while he listened.

  “I would have gone back in for the backpack,” Ram continued, “But you were still missing, and I didn’t think I’d ever be able to find the confounded thing, so I left Kora and hurried downstream to find you.” He grunted. “Took me long enough. You’d floated like a twig all the way to the shallows here before washing up on the sandbar. Like I said, you’d swallowed more than you share of the river, but with a little coaxing you gave most of it back. And, well…that brings us here.”

  Daniel frowned. “No, it doesn’t. Where’s Kora now? Is she okay?”

  Ram stood and paced nervously. “Well, I would imagine she’s alright for the time being. Funny, isn’t, how ever since she showed up, we’ve had the worst run of luck. You would imagine—”

  “My head hurts too much to imagine, Ram,” said Daniel. “Speak clearly. Where is she?”

  Ram stopped his pacing, tight lipped. He sighed. “They took her.”

  “What?”

  He shook his head with a bitter chuckle. “I went back for her as soon as I knew you’d be alright. Only she wasn’t there.”

  It was Daniel’s turn to pace. “Maybe she left on her own. Maybe she’s still looking for us.”

  “It’s been hours. Besides, I found this.” Ram held up Kora’s knife. Blood stained the edge of the blade. “No, I’m sure of it. The Akorites have probably been watching us all along, waiting for a chance at her, since they knew we’d fight back. I bet they took her away the moment I turned my back on her.”

  Daniel sat on a stone and let his face drop into his hands. “So she’s dead. And I’m to blame. After all we’d been through, after all the promises I made to keep her safe, I failed.”

  Ram shifted his weight. “I don’t think it’s nearly that hopeless.”

  Daniel glanced up ruefully. “What makes you say that?”

  “Think about it. If they intended to just kill her on the spot, why not do it when they had her in the forest glade? They tied and gagged her when they could have just slit her throat. I think it’s safe to assume they weren’t meant to kill her themselves.”

  While what Ram said made sense, the fact wasn’t very comforting. For a while, they sat there, saying nothing. Daniel let the rushing river take over his senses. He was tired, aching, and hungry, and he didn’t see how their situation could possibly get worse.

  Then Ram jumped up, startling him. “Oh, hang it all. We have to do something! If we start at the spot I left her, maybe we can pick up their trail. They can’t have made too much progress, not on foot.” He bounced about as though he was going to take off running at any moment. “She needs us, Daniel.”

  “I admire your spirit, but think things through. You’re the one always telling me that, aren’t you? What can we do against a whole band of Akorites? We have no food, barely any weapons, and no way of knowing which way they’ve taken her.”

  Ram’s face fell.

  “I’m sorry,” said Daniel, “But my responsibility is to find Litty, and that’s what I’m going to do. I still remember the map Kora drew, and now that the river itself corrected our course, we can still make to Obenon by nightfall.” He jerked his head towards the mountain. “Let’s go.” With that, he plunged into the river and strode towards the eastern bank. About
halfway across, he looked over his shoulder. Ram was still on the sandbar, watching him.

  Daniel sighed and went back. “There’s nothing you can do about it.”

  Ram blinked and looked away. “You’re right about Litty. She needs you, and I wouldn’t have you lose more time. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking straight. It’s just…”

  Daniel studied his friend, and he realized the truth. “You’re not coming with me.”

  Ram heaved his shoulders. There was a strange look in his eye. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe there’s nothing I can do to help Kora. But I have to try. You don’t walk away from a friend in need. I’ll have you know, I don’t have a clue how I’ll go about it, but I know it’s the right thing to do.” He put his hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “Go to Obenon. Find your sister, and I’ll come find you as soon as I can, with or without Kora. I promise.”

  Daniel saw Ram would not be dissuaded. He nodded. “When you find us,” he said, “Will you take us to Cerdania? Litty needs…” He didn’t know how to finish.

  “She needs a home. You know I will.” Ram placed the gun in his hand. “Take this. I’m afraid I’m not much good with it. I’ll have the knife, though. Kora will be wanting it back.”

  Daniel gripped Ram’s brawny shoulder. “Good luck. Don’t do anything stupid.”

  Ram winked. “That’s your job.” And with that, he spun on his heel, splashed to the western bank, and followed the river north.

  With an indecipherable mix of emotions welling in his gut, Daniel turned to face the crags to the south. Somewhere in those mountains was the pass that would lead him to Obenon. He squared his shoulders. No more detours, no more distractions. It was time to get Litty back.

  Chapter Eight

  Tess Kerrigan returned to consciousness at an agonizingly slow rate, as though her mind were eager to snap out of it, yet her body reluctant to follow. The sounds returned first—distant shouts, the buzz of forest life, and a hoarse groaning which she realized to be her own. Next came smells of damp earth and fresh air. She tested her muscles—stiff but functional.