Reading the Wind (Silver Ship) by Brenda Cooper Page A

prey—we’ve met at least one predator.”
    I nodded. “Maybe we’ll see something in the valley.”
    His lips thinned. “I just hope we can handle whatever we see. Let’s move.” He struck out along the gentle downward slope that made up the ridge’s spine. Twice, he led us around piles of boulders stacked at the ridge’s center, and once we had to avoid a tangle of downed trees.
    Finally, Liam angled downward, threading his way through tree trunks that appeared to lean into the ground against the steep sides of the hill. The footing was soft forest loam, dried spiky needles, and here and there, the bones of large leaves. Our feet slid down a half-meter for each step, and it felt like we fell down the steep mountain as much as walked. We emerged from the trees about halfway down the valley’s length. The sun shone into our eyes, part way through its downward curve. Liam held out his arms, signaling us to stop. “Shhhh,” he said. “There’s almost no wind. I want to watch the valley floor for a few minutes.”
    “We don’t have time,” I whispered.
    “Stopping and really seeing may save our lives.” He fell silent, watching. Windy nuzzled Kayleen. I stood alone, watching like Liam, trying to see what he saw, to look through the eyes of a born roamer.
    A carpet of low light green spring grass covered the valley. Here and there, animal trails were visible. Small bushes and trees hugged the riverbank, about twenty meters from us. Forest rose up behind us and opposite us, on the far end of the valley. A slight wind had come up, singing through the tops of the evergreens. Between the river’s trees and the forest, almost nothing except sunshine and low grass and the occasional rock. One plume of the whitish steam we’d spottedfrom atop the ridge rose up a few hundred meters downriver from where we stood.
    Next to me, Liam and Windy went completely still. Liam pointed. I followed his gaze to spot movement on the far side of the river. Big animals, gathered together. I squinted, trying for details. They looked a little like hebras, but with much longer legs and slightly shorter bodies. They had longer necks, more than half as tall as their legs, and they were solid colors rather than the various stripes and spots of hebra coloring. I made out two duns, a black, a golden, and a deep chestnut color. They walked with a slightly lurching gait, but something about their movement convinced me they could run.
    “Can we get closer to them?” I whispered, no longer caring about how we spent time.
    Liam furrowed his brow and looked at each of us, his gaze lingering longest on Windy. She would draw attention for sure. “You go,” he said. “Go quickly and come right back. And be careful—prey animals that big imply predators that big.”
    No kidding. Big or in packs. Everything here seemed bigger than life. “I don’t want to see paw-cats twice my size. The ones at home are plenty big enough, thank you very much.” I took a deep breath, pleased that he trusted me to go, and suddenly nervous. “Are you sure we should separate?”
    His eyes showed uncertainty, but he put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently. “It’s midafternoon. Demon dogs hunt dusk to dawn, at least at home. So do most predators. Just don’t cross the river. Don’t go where I can’t see you. Get a better look and come back quickly. I’ll keep Kayleen and Windy safe.”
    I nodded and left, crouching low and moving slowly and as evenly as I could, trying to appear like a normal part of the field. The grass only came to my ankles, providing no cover. At least there was no cover for anything else either. Lizards and small mammals scurried out of my path every few steps, but nothing large appeared to be in the valley except the herd across the river.
    I slowed down even more, conscious of passing time but not wanting to spook the beasts until I got closer. I neared the trees by the river, rising up to a full stand once I reached their