Bearers of the Black Staff - Terry Brooks [8]
“Still don’t sense anything?” he pressed.
She shook her head no.
He hesitated, wondering if she might be mistaken. But she had never been mistaken before. It was foolish to start doubting her now. “Let’s keep moving,” he said.
They entered the woods, slipping noiselessly between the trunks of the trees, through the weeds and tall grasses. Because of the denseness of the foliage, they were forced to separate to avoid traveling in single file where only one could see ahead, working their way forward perhaps ten or twelve feet apart. The light faded, and the gloom deepened. There were no longer any tracks to follow, but broken stalks and scrapes on the bark marked the way. Good enough for now, Panterra thought. These were sufficient to keep them on the trail.
Then abruptly the woods opened onto a swamp, a morass of grasses alive with buzzing insects and groundwater thick with pond scum. A wind blew foul and sour across the waters and into the trees, carrying the scents of death and decay.
Panterra knew at once that he had made a mistake. He sank into a crouch, watching Prue, now almost fifteen feet away, do the same. While they had been tracking the creatures that had killed Bayleen and Rausha, the creatures had sensed them and led them to this bog. Swampy water ahead and a choking forest all about—it was a trap.
A quick shiver ran down his spine. How had Prue missed this? Had the stench of the swamp somehow masked their presence? Was that why her instincts had failed her? He reached for his knife and slowly drew it from its sheath. Prue was too far away, he realized suddenly—too distant for him to protect. He cast about swiftly, searching for a sign that would tell him from which direction the attack would come.
He found it almost immediately.
The creatures were right behind him.
THREE
PANTERRA QU TOOK A DEEP BREATH AND STARTED to turn around to face whatever was there. But a voice as cold and hard as winter stopped him where he was.
“Stay still. They know you’re here, but they don’t know exactly where yet. If you move, they will.”
Pan was so shocked that he did what he was told without thinking. Whoever was speaking was right behind him, but obviously it wasn’t one of the creatures he was tracking. He had been mistaken about that.
“Where are they?” he whispered, keeping his eyes focused on the swamp and its dense foliage. “I don’t see them.”
“It’s a standoff then, boy. You don’t see them, and they don’t see you. No one sees anyone, do they? No, don’t move. Don’t try to turn around. Just stay still and listen to me.”
Panterra shot a quick look over at Prue, who was staring at him in bewilderment. She didn’t see the speaker, either, and couldn’t figure out what Pan was doing just crouching there, staring out at the swamp. He made a small gesture for her to stay where she was.
“Will she do as you say?” the speaker asked. “That was a Tracker sign. Are you both Trackers?”
Pan nodded. “Yes.”
“Kind of young for that sort of work. You must be good or know someone in the council. Do you come from Glensk Wood?”
Pan nodded again. “Who are you?”
“A friend. A good friend, as it turns out. I might even be able to save your life. Another few minutes, though, and I might have been too late. They’ve set you a trap.”
“Have you been following them, too?” Pan tried to reason it through. “Or were you following us?”
“Don’t flatter yourself, boy. I was following them, but you cut across their tracks ahead of me. Anyone else, another Tracker, would have gone back to the village for help. Not you, though. Are you brave or stupid?”
“Neither,” Pan answered, a flush rising from his neck to his face. “I knew the two that were killed. They were Trackers, too. But I don’t think what did it is anything we’ve ever seen before. So I thought we ought to get a look so we would know what it is that we’re hunting later on when there are more of us.”
The speaker was quiet for a moment. “You must be pretty good at the Tracker business. The girl, too. I had trouble following your