Chapter 7
The tall grass to her right parted. Winnie held her breath.
A floppy snout appeared. Its nostrils fluttered. A harmless-looking gray animal, resembling a tapir, pushed into the clearing.
She released her nervous energy with a giggle and tossed a piece of dinner roll toward it. The tapir shuffled forward. It briefly sniffed the roll, then scooped it into its mouth with its flexible snout. Three-quarters of a roll later, she had the little guy eating out of her hand.
She petted his fuzzy back. The tapir chewed contentedly.
“Too bad you can’t talk. I have a zillion questions about this place.”
“Ask away,” spoke a chipper little voice.
The tapir darted into the brush. Winnie shot to her feet, clenching her fists. A frail, little, gray-faced humanoid slipped into the clearing. She guessed it was a male child, judging by its hairless head. He wore a crude tunic made from a chestnut-colored pelt. The boy, with his red-rimmed eyes and tiny mouth, looked about as threatening as a party balloon. This little creature had gotten her adrenaline pumping again? She doubled over, laughing at herself.
She straightened up, still grinning. “Who are you, little man?”
“I am a mel-yew cub,” he said in a cocky voice. “Grown-ups call me Cubby.”
Did the Brothers Ky look the same under their robes? Just imagining those frail little men trying to hurt anybody sent her into another giggle fit.
The cub scowled at her. “Are you laughing at me?”
“No.” She tried to look serious. “I was just thinking about your friends, the Brothers Ky. They wanted to kill me.”
“Really?” Cubby’s ears pricked up. His little eyes glowed eagerly. “What did you do?”
“Drank water.”
His shoulders drooped in disappointment. “You’re just a heretic.”
“Not even a little bit. That was a huge misunderstanding.”
He nodded. “Brothers Ky are always misunderstanding something. Their brains are almost as small as a palum’s. At least palm don’t eat skitters. Brothers Ky do sometimes.”
“What’s a skitter?”
“That creature you were just feeding. I wanted one for a pet, but Papa said I was too young. That’s why I left home. Now I’m an adventurer.”
“That’s cool. Me too. Well”—she shrugged—“a warrior, actually. Ever hear of General Takka?”
“Everyone has. He was the greatest warrior in all of Frama-12. It was foretold that he would return in a new form, with a keen mind. He was meant to lead our army, except—”
“Except there was a miscalculation with the timeline,” she completed. “That’s why I’m here, by the way. I’m the one with the keen mind.”
His little eyes widened. “Are you as good a warrior as General Takka?”
“I could beat Takka with one hand tied behind my back. Not that I’d want to,” she quickly added. Her little stepbrother was weird but too sweet to hurt.
Cubby bowed. “What does the warrior greater than General Takka call himself?”
“Windemere. Except I’m a girl.”
He looked up. “Females can’t be warriors. They’re too weak.”
She lifted him by the front of his tunic until his feet dangled above the ground. “Do I look weak?”
“Forgive me, General, forgive me.”
She lowered him to the ground. “You don’t want to mess with warriors, especially when Takka sends them in his place.” She gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder to show she had no hard feelings.
Cubby gaped at her. “He sent you too?”
“I’m the only one.”
“There’s another,” said the mel-yew child. “When Takka couldn’t fulfill the prophecy, he sent a wizard to make all the lurk in disappear.”
“Hold up. If somebody’s going around saying Takka sent him, he’s lying. I know definitely that the only person Takka sent through the time tear was me.”
He gasped. “Could this wizard be a lurk in spy?”
She spread her arms, indicating her foreign surroundings. “In this place anything’s possible. If there is a spy, we need to warn Queen Bogen. Do you know the way to her castle?”
He straightened to attention. “Yes, General. Permission to join your army, sir?”
He looked much too small to be a soldier, but Winnie didn’t want to hurt his feelings. “Actually, what I need most is an advisor who can keep me updated on all the Frama-12 bylaws and stuff. Would you be interested in the job?”
The cub bowed his head and scuffed at the ground. She recognized the disappointment in his pale gray face.
“It’s a super important job.”
He looked up. “Then I accept the position.”
“Thanks. First order of business. Can you guide us to the castle without running into anybody who thinks I’m a heretic?”
“Oh yes, General. The Brothers Ky probably ordered the palm to find you, and they’ll never look for you out here. Palum think the only way to cross the woods is by using the path.”
“Not to be mean or anything, but are the palum, like, stupid?”
“The palm do much for us, but they are rather simple. This way, General.”
The two marched from the clearing into the dense forest. At first, Winnie felt confident, having a guide. The woods seemed harmless enough with birds twittering and leaves rustling gently in the breeze. Then an eerie howl sounded in the distance.
She almost stumbled. “Are we, ya know, safe out here?”
“Safe from the palm but not from the snaps.”
“What are they?”
“Creatures with big teeth and even bigger appetites.”
They continued on through the humid forest in silence. A green harris glided by overhead but ignored them.
“These snaps,” she said in a low voice. “What do they eat?”
“Anything that moves. Unless we kill them first.”
“You don’t throw stones at them, do you? ’Cause there aren’t any out here.”
“Our hunting party uses bows and arrows or spears.” They pushed deeper into the jungle. “A tracker sneaks ahead and makes bait of himself. If he’s fast enough, he leads the snaps onto the path where our hunters wait to ambush it.”
“Sounds like a fun way to spend an afternoon,” she retorted. “Frama just keeps getting better and better.”
They hadn’t gone far when Cubby froze. Winnie skidded to a stop to keep from tripping over him.
He blinked up with round eyes. “Snaps’ den. I smell it.”
All she smelled was damp air.
“We have to be careful,” he said in a hushed voice. “And quiet.”
Her insides clenched.
“We’re lucky the wind is with us. There’s a hunting party out today, but I don’t know where it is.”
The two crept forward, careful not to break any twigs underfoot.
“Snaps give a warning before they attack. They click their teeth. If you hear chattering teeth, you’ll only have time to make peace with your maker before you die.”
“Takka never told me that,” she said in a harsh whisper.
He moved forward. She followed, edging carefully through the forest.
He pointed to the mouth of a cave on their right. “Snaps’ lair.”
She willed her shaky legs to keep moving. After they’d passed the cave, leaving it hidden behind a field of boulders the size of garden sheds, she allowed herself the luxury of one deep breath.
The forest went still. The breeze stopped. Even the birds quit singing. A sudden clatter ripped through the silence. It sounded like an over-caffeinated woodpecker attacking a steel tree.
Cubby yelled, “Run!” and bolted.
Winnie burst after him, charging through low-hanging leaves.
A primal squeal pierced the humid air from behind.
She peeked over her shoulder. Between the trees a T-Rex-type creature with a chestnut-colored hide tramped into view. Its pointed yellow teeth clenched around a wriggling skitter.
“That’s my tapir!” she cried out.
“Run for the path!”
She dashed after him. With a final burst of energy, she plowed through the leafy brush, sprawling on hands and knees onto a dirt road. When she looked up, a tribe of mel-yew, dressed in leather armor, faced her. Each held a cocked bow. A dozen arrows were aimed at her head.
“Move!” Cubby shouted. “They’re after the snaps.”
She slithered from the line of fire.
The snaps bounded onto the path. She ducked behind a thick tree and watched. Mel-yew hunters shouted a battle cry and pelted the monster with arrows. Most of them bounced off its thick skin. Its roar echoed through the forest. Hunters with larger spears stepped in, piercing its hide. The snaps bellowed. Thick, red-brown blood spurted from its wounds. Its long tail thrashed, knocking over three hunters. The last thing it bit, before its massive head crashed to the ground, was air.
Dozens of cheering hunters rolled the slain beast onto a large wooden cart. Four palum, their arm muscles bulging, pulled it forward.
“Freeden!” one of the hunters shouted.
Cubby scampered into the hunter’s open arms. “Papa, we brought you the snaps!”
“We might not have been on the path to save you. You could have been killed.”
“But you were. And look who I found!” Cubby clasped Winnie’s hand and pulled her from behind the tree.
“You’ve done well, Son. A palm scout warned us about this heretic.”
“Papa, this is the warrior the oracle promised.”
His father glared. “The oracle promised a champion. Broon! Amado!”
Two mel-yew men shouldered their weapons and stepped forward.
“Guard this prisoner,” Cubby’s father ordered.
“Papa, General Windemere is a warrior even greater than General Takka!”
“Not another word. You’re in enough trouble as it is. You know you’re not to stray from the path.”
Cubby shuffled beside the snaps cart, bald head bowed.
“I think I can explain,” Winnie said.
“Speak again, and it’s an arrow in your throat,” a guard snarled.
After witnessing what they’d done to a dinosaur, she didn’t dare argue. She marched silently between her captors. Could anything else go wrong today?