9.

Fear

I raced through the trees, then across a stretch of exposed rock dotted with tiny purple flowers. Twice I stumbled, but Tobble hung on, his little arms tight around my neck.

“Keep a sharp lookout,” I said, panting.

“I shall, Byx,” Tobble replied with worrying seriousness, and we both fell silent.

The clouds were breaking up overhead, driven inland by the wind. The sky, revealed in patches, had taken on an angry glow as day eased into night.

I was heading back to the mirabear hive from a different angle, but it didn’t matter. I needed no signposts. I moved on instinct, nose set for home, home, home.

I leapt over a small stream and stopped cold.

“What is it?” Tobble asked.

I didn’t move. I froze the way my parents had taught me and took everything in. To rush is not necessarily to arrive.

Ahead of me, I caught the scent of humans. The guide, perhaps? The horses, the dogs, the rest were farther away.

A two-minute run at full pace, home awaited.

“Something’s wrong,” I said, shaking my head as if arguing with myself.

“What is it?”

“Shhh.” I listened, and so did Tobble.

They weren’t there yet, the noises I was searching for. Wasn’t I near enough to hear the movements of my fellow dairnes? They’d be packing up. They’d be looking for me. Were the trees so thick they muffled sound?

We were about to set out on a huge journey. Preparations should have been underway. Food had to be wrapped in poonan leaves, tools had to be put away, the few mementos we carried had to be slipped into pouches.

What I heard was not a sound. It was an absence of sound. A void.

I tried to pin down a fleeting scent. It was almost nothing, almost impossible for me to make out. The wind didn’t serve me well, but from the dark recesses of my mind, an ancient emotion grew.

Fear.

I sat on my haunches and Tobble slid off.

“I have to go,” I said, and by the time Tobble began to answer, I was already on my way.

I ran, tripping over a fallen branch, slipping on leaves.

I wove. I darted. I plowed through the undergrowth, heedless, eyes half closed to avoid the whipping branches.

Again I stopped.

Lost. I was lost.

Frantically I panted, hating my short legs and weak lungs that never, ever allowed me the pleasure of being the first or the fastest.

The treacherous breeze shifted and it hit me.

A smell so thick and horrible that it crawled down my throat like lava.

I knew before I knew.

“No,” I whispered.

The world was silent, except for Tobble, far behind but gamely trying to catch up.

I saw a hill that I recognized because of the huge, lonely pine that stood atop it. The camp was just over the hill.

I panted and gasped, climbing up and up, and there at the summit where the mass of earth no longer stifled sound, the silence was gone.

I heard.

Howls and screams.

Agony.

Pain beyond words.

Terror and despair.

I ran.