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“WHEN YOU’RE TRACKING someone, it’s important to start at the very place you suspect that person began his journey,” Stormy explained, helping Serena navigate a stony incline that led to a meadow. They had left Birdsong Creek. Serena insisted Maurice would not have followed the stream.
“He does things on his own, but only if he doesn’t have specific instructions not to,” she insisted. “Birdsong Creek goes into the forest where boar, bear, and wild cats roam. Both Arell and Erika were upset with him when he went to Big Rock on his own. Erika told him to only hunt for small game this time. I’m sure he would have gone to the meadow to hunt. That’s where Arell found his bow.”
“Here, then?”
“Yes,” Serena stopped in the thick grass, put her hands on her hips, and looked around. Stormy surveyed the field, searching for a sign that might lead to the boy’s whereabouts.
“That’s probably the trail Arell took.” Stormy pointed to where the grass bent slightly, the back sides of the blades white and covered with dew. Careful not to make further disturbances in the pasture, he followed the trail, with Serena close behind him.
“I never met Maurice,” he said.
“He’s a good boy, really. Passionate. If there’s something on his mind that he wants done, he goes to extremes to get it done. It wasn’t long ago he found an old, abandoned canoe that the other men of the village said wasn’t worth fixing. Maurice foraged for the wood, harvested the resin, and repaired it. He seldom takes no for an answer.”
“I see.” Stormy had seen boys like that. He, himself, had been hardheaded as a youngster and even though it upset his mother, his stubbornness made him independent.
“Both his mother and father are very brave. Maurice takes after them. He’s so young, but I think someday he will be a fearless soldier.”
“I think he might be already,” Stormy turned to her. “Boys like Maurice grow up young and fight to prove it to the world. I’m wondering if Maurice is doing something heroic.”
“I hope he’s successful if he is,” she said.
She moved ahead of him, following a trail where weeds had been broken down by both deer and human traffic. The path was wet with dew from the fog. When the ground leveled, she stopped by a solitary oak tree.
“I have often found the boys here sleeping or eating. They don’t work very hard to find their prey,” she laughed. “They usually just lay around in this flat area and wait quietly until an animal appears.” She sat in the grass and hugged her knees. “Like this. You can see this is one of their favorite places. The grass doesn’t even grow here anymore, they come here so often.”
Stormy stood next to her and sniffed the air. So much fog, he could barely see. If he were to find a sign, it would be on the ground, for the landscape was hidden by clouds.
“Have the boys been hunting since Maurice disappeared?” he asked.
“No. The boys of the village were told not to hunt until we find out what happened to Maurice. Their parents are afraid a wild creature may have taken him.”
“A wild creature?” Stormy shuddered, remembering the mountain giants in Fairmistle. So many children had been taken by those monsters. Was there some other ogre roaming the island?
“A cougar, maybe. One with cubs. There have been killings by wild animals in the past, but not often. When I was a little girl, a man was attacked by an angry bear.”
Stormy put his finger over his lips to suggest she be quiet as he moved one step at a time from the place she knelt. The deer trail gradually disappeared into the field and, at first, it looked as though nothing had come this way for days. Maybe Serena was wrong. As he wandered further, he found other patches of grass that had been matted down. He slowly circled the area. The grass was as tall as his knees, but a few paces from the oak tree, the blades were broken. As he inspected that area, he noticed a long stretch of grass lying flat, too wide to have been a deer trail. The area had not been beaten down repeatedly and there wasn’t enough damage to see clearly what had happened, but something had been there. Something large. He walked the perimeter of the matted grass and made note where the damage began and where it ended abruptly. There were no other tracks that suggest whatever came her had come from the forest, or from the road they’d been on. Could whatever had made these tracks come from the sky, landed, and then took off again?
He paused to think.
“Do you have osprey here?”
“Some,” she said.
“Very large?”
“They’re quite large, but not big enough to take a child. Why?”
Stormy inspected the perimeter of the tracks again.
“You’re right. They would never leave such tracks.”
“What did you find, Stormy?”
“I could be wrong,” he said, scratching his head. She came to his side, and he pointed at the circle and the expanse of broken grass extending away from it.
“It’s too large for any earthly creature,” she agreed.
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Stormy said.
“A dragon, maybe?” she asked.
He looked at her. “The only dragon I know who is still alive is the Keeper, and he lives in a cave deep under Mount Ream.”
“But he can fly, can’t he?”