Legacy of the Claw by C. R. Grey Page A

an Animas Chameleon could get away with hiding under that goo.
    Hal’s job as a Squat was to protect the flag at all costs. It was a high-risk position, as members of the opposing team would almost certainly try to ambush and restrain him so that the flag could be stolen. As he moved into position, he looked like he wanted to duck under the nearest bush and hide.
    A shrill whistle echoed through the woods, followed by various shouts and whoops. The flags were hoisted by automatic pulleys to the tops of their scaffolded poles. The Sneaks immediately dispersed.
    The game had begun.
    As Bailey ducked through the trees, out of sight of the flag, he stopped to listen. All he could hear was the wind, the burbling of the small creek a few feet away, and distant shouts from the spectators in the stands.
    Now what? He had no idea which direction to go, or when the other players might attempt to get close to the flag. He guessed he should just stay put until there was a sure sign that the flag was in danger. He brushed some dirt off of a carefully placed log and sat.
    Bad idea.
    Above him, a falcon circled low, and gave out an earsplitting screech. It could only mean one thing. Phi knew where he was, and probably where the flag was too. In an instant, Bailey was back on his feet, on the alert. He leapt over the creek and ran through the low branches of the trees, keeping his eyes on the sky. He found himself in a clearing. From here he could see the high spectator’s seats of the stadium, and all the eyes watching him. He felt his stomach flop. Everyone was waiting for him to do something  …  but what?
    As he stood there, too dumbstruck to know his next move, he heard a roar from the students who’d come to observe the tryouts. He looked behind him: Phi was running full-tilt from one end of the clearing to the other, north, toward his team’s home base. Bailey tightened his grip on the Flick and ran after her.
    Bailey crashed into the bushes where he’d seen Phi disappear and looked around wildly. Nothing. The falcon had disappeared, and Phi might as well have been a ghost. Bailey figured his best bet was to head back toward the home base. But he felt so turned around it was hard to tell from which direction he’d come in the first place.
    Bailey wished he had an Animas like Phi’s, an extra sense that could help guide him. But he didn’t. He would just have to do his best.
    Focus. Think
.
Breathe
. He closed his eyes, trying to visualize the terrain he’d already covered. He’d run both to the south and the east when he started following the falcon—that meant, he realized, that if he ran in a semicircle north and west, he’d be sure to come across the base, or at least get close to it.
    Bailey took off running again. His heart pounded, his legs ached.
    The terrain was rockier here, with more hills and slopes, and the fallen leaves made navigating these hills very slippery. His Flick at the ready, Bailey snuck under what few bushes were available, trying to remain as quiet as possible, hoping that Phi would be careless enough to make a sound.
    He didn’t have to wait long. He’d been concealed beneath the bushes for less than a minute when he saw the flash of a blue canvas shoe just a few feet away. He crept slowly and silently out from under his cover, and watched as the quickly moving form disappeared over the next rise. Bailey ran at a crouch, thighs burning, in case Phi was waiting on the other side of the hill. At the top of the rise, he looked for footprints in the densely packed leaves on the ground. Yes—she’d gone in the wrong direction, heading down the creek away from where the flag waited at the top of the ladder. Bailey decided to head her off, and he ran straight ahead, to the ridge on the other side of the creek.
    He’d thought right—almost as soon as he crested the ridge, he saw Phi heading west.
Wait
. No. Not Phi. The player he saw