Maverick

Well, lad, at least you gained a few seconds ’ lead -The thought was cut off by a blood-curdling scream somewhere up ahead-a scream that dissolved into the happy growl of a feeding sharpfang. The third sharpfang! One last incredibly pained yelp slipped out from the sharpfang’s victim.

Maverick’s self-control slipped a moment. I hope that was WhiteTail. Then he felt guilty at that thought. I take that back. Don ’ t hurt the kid, OldMother. I hope that was LifeCrier!

He swerved left and suddenly found himself charging straight at a yawning gully. Trying to take it in a single bound, he came down a half -trot short and slammed into the edge of the far side. Whining like a pup, he hung on the edge, his hind legs scrabbling for purchase. Curse LifeCrier and his flea-bitten SilverSides nonsense! The two sharpfangs’ feet thudded closer.

Maverick’s right foot found something solid, and he flipped himself up over the edge and hit the ground ru

Maverick flattened his ears again, straightened his tail, and focused on putting distance between himself and the sharpfangs.

Up to a point, things had been going really well. After the pack had wiped out the WalkingStones, LifeCrier began leading the hunt every day, and Maverick had managed to make himself a permanent part of LifeCrier’ s hunting party. And after a week of practice, LifeCrier’s group was actually starting to hunt like a pack. This morning two of the younger kin had taken down a smallgrazer, and Maverick himself had surprised a smerp that was trying to hide under a log. They’d even managed to handle it intelligently when the point kin stirred up a small female sharpfang. The scouts got out of the way, the stupid lizard charged straight at the main body of the pack, and Maverick had time to draw his knife and try his under-the-chin trick.

It worked to perfection. He dropped the sharpfang with one blow, and for a minute there he’d had the undying admiration of the entire hunting party. LifeCrier even got out one of those stupid amulets and made a great show of hanging it around Maverick’s neck.

Then the pack was jumped by the three full-grown male sharpfangs that had been following the female he’d killed.

A new roar joined the chorus behind him. Maverick looked over his shoulder long enough to see that the third sharpfang, blood fresh on his face, had decided to join the party.

That does it!Maverick decided. If I get out of this alive, I ’ m going to head west and forget I ever heard the name PackHome. May the fleas of a thousand grazers infest LifeCrier ’ s ears!

Speak of the FirstBeast and he shall rise. Maverick burst through another patch of spineberries and almost collided with LifeCrier. The old kin pulled up short and gave Maverick a dumbfounded look as he sped past.

Against his better judgment, Maverick barked out a warning.,, Sharpfangs! Right behind me!” All three roared as if to reinforce the point.

“Wait up!” LifeCrier yelped.

Got to give the old boy credit,Maverick thought as he spared a moment to glance over his shoulder, he can really move when he ’ s motivated. In a few seconds LifeCrier had pulled up along Maverick’s right side and was matching his speed.

“Where’s WhiteTail?” LifeCrier asked between gasps.

“She wasn’t with you?”

“We got separated. ” LifeCrier broke ru

“We can regroup when we’re back in PackHome. ” Maverick closed his mouth as they ploughed into a patch of blooming stinkweed.

“You don’t understand. Three sharpfangs! This must be a test of our faith. SilverSides will protect us!” A limestone outcropping loomed in front of them. “Left! Trust me!” LifeCrier dropped back to cross Maverick’s tail and turn down the slope, parallel to the base of the bluff.

Maverick hesitated a fraction of a second and then followed. “Fu

LifeCrier rounded the foot of the bluff and skidded to a stop. “Drat! We’re here? I thought we were… ”

Maverick followed him around the corner and slammed on the brakes as well.

To their left, the gully he’d crossed earlier broadened out into a marshy delta. Directly in front, there were a few scrubby little nut trees and about a twenty-foot drop into the swamp. Vast, dim shapes moved in the distance, dipping their long necks into the floating mats of vegetation.

To their right, a narrow path skirted the base of the cliff and teetered on the brink of falling into the swamp.

LifeCrier stood at the edge of the drop, sniffing at the water twenty feet below. “I suppose we could swim. ”

“Idiot! There are things in that swamp that eat sharpfangs!”

“Well, perhaps we could-”

A sharpfang roared and rocks came bouncing down the slope behind them, accompanied by the sound of massive talons skidding on loose gravel.

“Right!” Maverick decided. He lit off on the path at a pace that would have scared the scent out of him were he not already terrified. LifeCrier followed two trots behind.

“Do you think they’ll give up?” LifeCrier shouted.

More roars behind them; the thud of heavy bodies colliding and the sharp crack of a nut tree being broken in two, followed by a massive splash. Maverick looked over his shoulder long enough to see one sharpfang slogging along in the mud at the base of the cliff while the other two cautiously, almost comically, slid down the embankment on their hindquarters and tails.

“No!” he shouted back. The path rounded a little outcropping and dipped down to water level. Great! Now they won ’ t even have to jump to get us! But on the other side of a clump of giant grazertail plants, the path intersected a broad, flat path that led back into a gap in the cliff face. “This is it!” he shouted at LifeCrier. Skidding a little on the marshmuck, he cut a sharp right turn and darted in.

By the time they realized that it was a box canyon, the three sharpfangs were out of the water and thudding up the path behind them.

Maverick’s breath was coming in short, ragged gasps now, and his heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was going to burst his ribcage. “Is there a way out?” he said between gasps.

“Not that I can see,” LifeCrier wheezed. “Perhaps around-around that bend there. ” They both staggered in the direction in which he was looking.

“Still think-SilverSides-is go

“I’m sure-” LifeCrier licked his lips. “I’m sure she has a reason for all this. ”

“It’s just that-if she’s pla

LifeCrier stopped in his tracks and gasped, “Mother have mercy!” Then he dropped on his belly and began whining like a pup. Maverick looked where LifeCrier had been looking.

He saw the four WalkingStones.

Oh, Mother, did 1 figurethese things wrong!

The WalkingStones were tall; as tall as sharpfangs, almost, and black as a starless night. They stood firmly on their hind legs, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and sported broad chests and massive forelegs that looked as if they could uproot trees. In place of eyes they had narrow slits filled with a flickering, hellish light, and in place of forepaws they had great hooks like a fliptail’s pincers.