RABBITEAR
RabbitEar, wake up! Did you hear that?”
I lunge up out of my hides and stare wide-eyed at Quiller where she’s rushing to shove her feet into her boots.
“What?” I ask in confusion. It must still be night. Snow drifts down through the smoke hole. “How bad is the storm?”
“Bad. There’s six hand-lengths of snow on the flats and giant drifts piled everywhere.”
Shoving out of my sleeping hide, I crawl over to the fire to sit beside her. Her bushy red hair tangles around her freckled face. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”
“I heard Jawbone scream. Didn’t you hear him?”
“No. I heard nothing. You were probably dreaming. You’re just worried and imag—”
“It was his voice, RabbitEar! I know my own son’s voice.”
Our gazes lock and hold. My heartbeat speeds up until I feel my cold face flush. “He wouldn’t try to climb the cliff when it’s dark, Quiller. He’s smarter than that.”
“Is he?” Dread creases her face. “Something’s wrong. I feel it.”
Trying to force the sleep from my mind, I rub my eyes. “Maybe you heard the wind? We’ve had some fierce gusts tonight.”
“Wasn’t the wind.” She swings her cape over her shoulders.
“Wait, all right? Just wait a moment.” I’m trying to wake up enough that I can think straight. “Let’s say it was Jawbone. Maybe he had a nightmare and cried out, but we told him to stay put if a storm rolled in. He would not have disobeyed us. He must be sleeping warm in one of the children’s caves.”
Quiller reaches for a wooden cup and dips it into the teabag hanging from the tripod. As she hands it to me, she says, “Drink this and get dressed. We’re going after him. When he gets scared, he does crazy things.”
“Yes, he does, but he—”
“And maybe he had a spell. Did you think of that?”
Sipping the wildflower tea, I swallow and let it warm my throat. “What do you want to do? Try to climb down in the blizzard?”
Her brows draw together as she grimaces at the fire. “I have to make sure he’s all right.”
Wind whips snow through the crevice. I watch it spin in the firelight, then settle on Quiller’s shoulders in a powdery white haze. “I assume you mean, if it’s safe to climb down.”
“I’m climbing down, RabbitEar.”
“Even if it’s still snowing and wind is blasting the cliff?”
The lines at the corners of her eyes deepen. “Yes.”
“Just . . .” I hold out a hand to tell her to give me some time to get used to the idea. “Tell me what you heard.”
Roughly, she throws a chunk of dung on the fire and cinders pop across the floor. “He screamed ‘Mother.’”
“That’s it? That’s all you heard?”
“That was enough!”
I can tell that she’s been in a state of panic since the scream woke her from a sound sleep. No matter what I say, I’m not going to change her mind. Not only that, what if she did hear our son scream? The possibility terrifies me.
I squint down at my reflection in the tea cup. My bearded face is puffy with sleep, but my eyes are hard and green. I feel more awake this instant than I ever have.
“All right, but we need to plan this out.”
“I have. While I’m climbing down the quest trail, you’ll hike to the shore and search for Jawbone down there. He might have gotten scared and decided to climb back down. If he’s not there, you can climb up from the bottom and meet me in the second camp. That way, we’ll know for sure.”
I don’t answer while I ponder her plan. “I don’t like that plan. Not only is there a monster storm out there, hungry predators are going to be slipping through the snow using it as cover to sneak up on prey. Let’s think of something where we stay together. We need to be able to guard each other’s back.”
As though she sees something moving out there, Quiller fixedly peers at the snow falling beyond the shelter. She can’t seem to convince herself to look away, and I wonder if she’s conjuring a vision of Jawbone trotting through the storm, smiling, ducking into the shelter, and leaping into her arms. Jawbone would be proud of himself for making it to the top, eager to tell tales of his harrowing adventures.
The images are so clear, even I expect to see our son duck into the shelter. My hand starts to shake. I have to set my cup aside and clench my fist to stop it.
Quiller turns and searches my face. “Get dressed.”
“Yes, all right.” I set my half-finished cup of tea down and reach for my boots.