Shadow Hunters by Christie Golden

other is a straight line, but it’s over a stretch of blackened earth and we’ll be totally exposed to the sun and any zerg that might be flying overhead. I vote for the jungle. Slower going for sure, but we’re much more likely to get there alive. We’d have cover, water, and a better chance of getting food to supplement our rations.”
    “The zerg might be thinking the same thing.”
    “They might indeed. But it’s still the smartest choice.”
    Into the rain forest they went. Jake was in pretty good shape, but they had landed in the morning and the day grew increasingly hotter and, with the moistureof the rain forest, steamier. They were soon both bright red and sweating, but Rosemary had been right: Water was plentiful and tested safe enough to drink, and the thick canopy protected them from the worst of the sun’s rays. But the undergrowth was not insubstantial, and they had to forge a path through huge tree roots slick with moss, ferns bigger than the two of them, and vines as thick as Jake’s arm. Jake’s headache, which seemed ever-present these days, worsened as the day wore on. The loss of the ship, the slow going, and the perpetual tension of having to stay alert and ready to defend himself against everything from insects and snakes on the ground in front of him to gargantuan versions of the same that might pounce on them from the sky at any moment was wearing him down.
    They stopped to rest beside a waterfall that under any other circumstances would have demanded his attention for its beauty and now demanded it because it was wet. Rosemary scanned the pool with the Pig and determined it was safe to drink from. Jake gulped down water along with a handful of pills from the medkit. Rosemary watched him.
    “I’m told that two work as well as six,” she said.
    “Not when the headache’s this bad,” he muttered. “You think we can jump in for a minute? I’m so hot.” He also reeked of vomit and zerg insides, the scent of which was not growing any pleasanter as the time passed. Rosemary glanced at the Pig and nodded.
    “No sizeable water creatures. Some smaller thingslike leeches and so on, I would imagine, but nothing too harmful.”
    “Thank God.” Jake removed his boots, pack, weapon, and nothing else and strode in. He heard Rosemary chuckle, and she emulated him. The water was not cold, but it was cooler than the air around him, and he sighed in pleasure as he scrubbed at his stained clothing.
    And then he felt a small hand on his head pushing down with surprising strength and he was underwater.
    He came up sputtering to see Rosemary grinning at him, and the splashing battle began. It felt good, to do something silly and stupid and playful that had nothing to do with life or death or protoss or secrets. He’d just drawn his hand back, preparing to execute a particularly large splash, when the look on Rosemary’s face stopped him.
    “Damn it!” She surged out of the water and slogged up the slippery, muddy bank. Jake turned to see what had gotten her so agitated.
    A small primate with red stripes peered at them with yellow eyes from its perch a good ten meters above them. For a second, all Jake knew was a surge of pleasure and recognition. It was a kwah-kai—“Little Hands” in the Khalani language—and for an instant Jake was again Temlaa, sitting with Savassan, regarding this same little creature and smiling at its curiosity and mischief.
    Jake’s smile faded. For in its little hands, the kwahkai clutched the Pig.
    Rosemary had seized a pistol and turned, dripping, to fire. But Little Hands was smart and fast, and before she could take aim it had chattered at her and fled, surrendering its prize and using all four limbs and tail to make good its escape.
    The Pig tumbled down, seemingly in slow motion. Jake watched Rosemary scramble to catch it and knew she would be too late, knew that it would strike one of the gnarled and mossy roots and not soft earth; and as it did so with a