Chapter 22

22

- Anter’az -

Tren’ax keeps up well, although I hurry along without much thought to being quiet or not leaving tracks. This should happen fast, one way or the other.

The boy probably recognizes the direction we’re walking. He must wonder why we’re going this way, but he will soon know.

Right before we get there, I stop and sit down. “It’s all right to talk now. There are no Bigs.”

“Is this where Woman Alba is?” Tren’ax asks immediately.

I take a sip of juice, savoring it because it is likely my last. “No, she’s not here.”

“But… this has to do with her, right?”

I nod. “It has everything to do with her. Can you imagine, Tren’ax? There was a woman in our village! A real one! And she was magnificent. Whatever happens, never forget that. Remember Alba and the way she was.”

“Yes, Anter’az,” the boy says nervously, sensing that not everything is as it should.

But he’s about to find out.

I stretch my legs and take a deep breath, enjoying the jungle. How fresh the air is, and how delicious this juice tastes!

And yet, this should happen fast.

I get back up, and we walk on until we get to the right spot. Dropping my pack, I take out a pot with a soft cork. “Is your spear sharp, Tren’ax?”

The boy checks. “Yes, Anter’az.”

I toss him a sharpening stone. “Make it more so. A Krast man always has the sharpest blade in the jungle.”

He sharpens the spearhead until he shows me how it easily cuts a thin leaf in half.

I nod. “Good. If that becomes the only option, use it. I only ask you to aim well. The heart is the best place.”

He looks up at the treetops. “Yes, Anter’az.”

“You will know if it becomes necessary. If he gets me, you can’t save me except with the spear. Do you understand?”

He looks me right in the eyes. “Yes, tribesman.”

I put my sword on the ground. “This becomes yours if that happens. Tell old Fabur’iz about it.”

Arming myself with the pot and a solid stick, I look up at the vral’s web above me. The vral is in the center, not moving.

“Only the strands going this way are sticky,” I tell Tren’ax and point the stick to the nearly circular strand of the web that runs around the outer edge. “These are not.” I touch one of the strands that run straight out from the center to the edge.

The vral moves its head, sensing the movement, alerted to my presence.

“But that can’t be helped.” I jump up and grab one strand, so thin I’ve seen thicker bowstrings, And yet it holds me easily. “I won’t have to go far.”

The vral moves, quickly turning its body towards me.

I make sure I have the pot easily available.

Then I start climbing.