Oath Breaker by Michelle Paver, Geoff Taylor Page A

right.
Her heart lurched.
Torak was walking up the trail toward her.
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NINE
Sweat slid down Renn's sides. Torak was walking up the trail, looking for her. He hadn't seen the hunters on the slope--the trees blocked his view--and for the same reason, the hunters hadn't seen him. But they would, in about fifteen paces, when he reached that patch of sunlight where a fallen birch had left a gap. Quiet as cloudshadow, the hunters spread across the slope, melting into wind-tossed shade and sun-dappled leaves. Renn dared not shout or make the redstart warning call. She couldn't throw a stone at Torak without standing up.
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Suddenly, he stopped. He'd seen the curse stick.
Swiftly, he stepped off the trail; and kept moving, getting closer to the gap.
Renn had no choice. She had to warn him, despite the risk. She whistled the redstart call.
Torak vanished in the bushes.
She felt rather than saw the hunters turn toward her. Like well-aimed spears, their gaze converged on her hiding-place. How had they known it wasn't a real bird? She'd added the uplift at the end which she and Torak used to distinguish it, but no one else had ever noticed that. They must be unbelievably observant. And suspicious. The hunters started down the slope toward her.
     
Her mind darted in panic. Her body ached to run, but she knew that her only hope was not to move. Keep still, wait till they were almost upon her- then run like a hare, jump in the river--and pray to the guardian.
    They were spreading out to surround her. She tensed to run.
Another redstart whistle, behind them on the slope. The blank heads turned.
There it was again. It had to be Torak. Renn recognized the uplift at the end. Somehow, he'd found his way behind them.
Holding her breath, she watched them climb toward the sound.
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Again the call came, but this time it was in the reeds by the river. How could that be? Torak couldn't have moved that fast.
Suddenly a shadow swept over her, and Rek alighted in an alder near the curse stick, whistling like a redstart.
The hunters paused. Painted fingers flickered in silent speech. They started down, heading for the tree where the raven perched. They passed within three paces of Renn's juniper without sensing her presence. Their ferocious intent blasted her like heat.
    Rek gave another perfect imitation of the redstart signal, and as they drew near, she flew off with a harsh raven laugh.
Silently, the faceless hunters watched her go. Then they headed up the trail and vanished into the Deep
Forest.
"Are you all right?" said Torak, grasping her shoulder.
Renn nodded. She was shaking, clenching her teeth to stop them chattering.
"Let's get out of here," muttered Torak.
They retreated to an alder thicket. "They'll have found our tracks," said Renn when she could trust herself to speak. "They'll know we're here." Torak shook his head. "They'll think we went with Fin-Kedinn." He told her how he'd left the remaining canoe downstream, judging it too conspicuous to take 81
into the Deep Forest, and had hidden their gear and covered their tracks. "How did you know they'd come?" said Renn. "I didn't. Didn't even know they were there till I heard you call. But I got used to covering my tracks when I was outcast. Come on. I'm hungry. Last chance for hot food."
It hadn't occurred to Renn that once they were in the Deep Forest, they'd have to do without fire. Feeling childish and ignorant, she went off to forage. They ought to save their supplies for the days ahead; at least she'd thought of that.
     
When she got back, Torak had woken up a fire. He'd set it under a rock facing away from the Deep Forest, and used only small, dry pieces of beech, without the bark, so that it burned almost without smoke.
     
Renn thought, He learned these things when he was outcast. It made her feel as if she didn't really know him. Food steadied her a bit. She made a stew of chickweed, bittercress, and bramble shoots, with meaty spring mushrooms, and wood pigeon eggs and snails