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“Stay here,” Hunter said, dashing off to investigate. “Meet me at the lookout.”
Lookout? What lookout? We shouldn’t be splitting up.
“No,” I hissed. “We have to stay together and go back to the compound. It’s not safe to split up.”
But the headstrong dwarf didn’t listen and continued up the bank, headed for the source of alarm.
Panic set off inside me. This was the legacy that witch had left me with. Somehow, I had to beat my fears. Counting down helped control my breathing.
“Pack it up,” Axe said, using the end of his weapon to saw the twine connecting his fish to his rod.
Rake collected the other rods jammed into the bank.
“Carry this,” Axe said, handing me his catch before moving on to mine, cutting the line and lifting the beast of a fish over his shoulder.
I was relieved I wouldn’t have the honor of carrying that heavy thing back with me. But it seemed a little unfair, considering Axe was smaller than I was. Although, he was very stocky, muscular, and probably very capable of bearing the larger fish’s weight.
We rushed up the slope, the dwarves’ arms bundled with belongings, me juggling the smaller fish.
A silence descended on the forest as we tore through it. This was never a good sign whenever I went hunting. Most times, it meant another hunter, usually a wolf or a bear, roamed the area. Had the animal attacked someone in the forest? A member of the resistance? Someone who lived in the mountains? Not a dragon I hoped. My mind went wild with possibilities. I tried to shut them out because they made my panic symptoms worse.
Whoever had screamed, I hoped they weren’t drawing Hunter into a trap.
