Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75650 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75650 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Like we have a choice. I smile, though I’m not sure I’m excited about this. That ‘hole’ looks ominous. And deep. And it’s triggering my fear of heights like crazy. But it’s not like there’s anywhere else to go, is there?
It’ll be fine, Stace. Pashov is here.
I take a deep breath and keep smiling until I relax a little. It can’t be as bad as it looks.
Pashov begins to pull the sled again, his steps quicker, as if the sight of our destination has rejuvenated him. I settle back in my seat, tucking the blankets back around Pacy. It’s grown colder every day, even though the weather is clear, and that means we don’t have much longer until the brutal season rains down endless tons of snow on us. It’s good that we’re arriving now, because I don’t have the same trust in Rokan’s weather-sense that the others do. I’m worried about getting caught in a blizzard. If it’s this nasty when the weather’s ‘nice,’ it’s going to be truly awful when it turns. Before, it wasn’t so bad because we were tucked away in a safe, warm cave with a heated pool and enough room for everyone. This time…I shudder, looking at that dark shadow ahead.
This time, the brutal season’s going to be very, very different.
“Someone is coming,” Pashov calls out.
I look ahead, trying to see around his big shoulders. It takes me a moment to focus in on the small, dark blue object that seems to emerge from the ground. It’s startling to see, and even more startling when I realize just how tiny that blue blob is compared to the gorge.
It’s…huge.
My stomach gives a queasy little flip.
“Harrec,” my mate says in a curiously flat voice. “Of course.”
We’re still a fair distance away, and I can barely squint to make out features. Maybe it’s Harrec, maybe not. Pashov’s vision is better than mine if he can tell at this distance. “You think he heard us coming?”
“No. It is probably just luck.” He doesn’t sound pleased, either. A moment later, a second figure emerges, and Pashov adds, “Bek, too. They are probably leaving to hunt.” He raises a hand in the air. “Ho!”
I wince as my mate’s loud voice booms over the valley. Pacy gives a startled cry and begins to whine, and I hug him close, tucking him under my tunic in case he wants to comfort-nurse.
“Ho!” One of the distant figures calls back, raising a tiny hand in the air.
A few minutes later, Bek and Harrec both jog up to our sled. Harrec’s grinning broadly, but Bek is as solemn as ever. He rarely smiles, and today doesn’t seem like it’s going to be one of those days, even though he gives Pashov a friendly clap on the shoulder. “It is good to see you again, my friend.”
“And you,” Pashov says. “It has been a long journey. How is the new home?”
“Different,” Harrec chimes in. “But good. It is a strange place, but there is plenty of room and we are sheltered from the winds.” He moves around to my side. “Stay-see. How are you faring?”
“Hi, Harrec. I’m good.”
“And your little one?”
Pacy’s currently latched to my breast, and I don’t pull him out to show Harrec, even though I know he enjoys playing with the babies of the tribe. “He’s been very patient with all the travel.” I smile. “It’s good to see more people again. How is everyone?” It suddenly feels like we’ve been gone forever, not less than two weeks.
“Everyone is settling in,” Harrec says, even as Bek moves to the handles of the sled and begins to pull it, giving my mate a rest. Harrec steps in next to the sled, chatting with me. “The biggest problem was figuring out who would live where,” the hunter tells me with an amused look. “Everyone wants to be closest to the big bathing pool in the center of the vee-lage.”
“Vee-lage?” I ask. As I say the word aloud, I realize what it is. “Oh. Village.”
“Yes,” Harrec says. “The humans say we should call it Crow-ah-to-an. It was Leezh’s idea.”
I sound the word out in my head. Croatoan? Oh, Jesus. It takes me a moment to realize where I’ve heard that word before—the lost colony of Roanoke. When the ships had returned to bring supplies to the colony, they found it deserted, and the only clue to where they had gone was the word ‘Croatoan’ carved into a tree. “Liz sure is morbid.”
“Shorshie did not like it, either, but it is the name we are using.” He shrugs. “It is bad?”
“It’s fine,” I lie, though I’m a little creeped out by the name. I’m more concerned with my mate. He’s silent, just like Bek. And while that’s pretty normal for Bek, Pashov’s normally a more laughing, friendly sort. He doesn’t seem to be pleased right now, and I wonder if he’s worried about our new home, too. “Why does everyone want to be closest to the bathing pool?” I ask absently.