Before I can say anything else, he freezes in his tracks. His head cocks, and he sniffs at the air. Up ahead, O’jek grabs Daisy in his arms, heading back toward us.
“Huh,” I say, gesturing. “Do you think they—ulp!” I choke on the words as I’rec hauls me into the air and flings me over his shoulder. I smack against the pack on his back and then bounce against him as he jogs back the way we came, O’jek at his side.
“You smell them too?” I’rec asks O’jek as they race through the snow.
“Hard not to,” O’jek replies. “We go downwind.”
Through my jouncing on I’rec’s shoulder, I shoot Daisy a look. She seems just as confused as me, trying to brace her hands on O’jek’s back. His braid smacks her in the face and I fight the urge to giggle at the ridiculousness of all of this. When I’rec sets me down on in the snow, he puts a finger to his lips and then more or less pushes me towards the cliff walls. A quick glance around shows me that we’ve backtracked the way we came, now hiding at the edge of the gently sloping valley we were crossing through.
I’rec puts a hand on my head, forcing me into a crouch. “Get down and be quiet.”
I smack his hand away, but I do as I’m told, and a moment later, Daisy is at my side. She grabs my arm and clings to it, her eyes wide.
I’rec hands me his spear and then his pack, and as I watch, he pulls off his loincloth and tosses it aside. Before I can ask what the fuck he’s doing, his skin color ripples, and a moment later, he’s a mixture of snow-white and blue-gray shadow. This time, when he crouches in front of me, I realize what he’s doing. He’s camouflaging, and when he presses his back to me, all but blocking me from the world, it’s to hide me. A quick peek shows that O’jek is doing the same, squeezing Daisy against the canyon wall next to me.
“What is it?” she asks.
“Hush, my heart,” O’jek whispers. “Metlaks come this way.”
I’rec doesn’t say anything to me, but his hand goes possessively to my bent leg and he gives it a squeeze, even as his now-blue-white tail snakes around my ankle. He stares straight ahead, a scowl on his face. “Our tracks are plainly visible,” he whispers to O’jek. “I should cover them.”
“No time,” O’jek whispers back. “Let us hope they are not intelligent enough to notice.”
And then I’rec squeezes my leg again, and I hear something. The distant crunch of snow, the angry hoot of what must be a metlak. I’m silent, huddled behind my naked mate as the sounds increase. It’s not just one hoot. It’s several, and the shuffle of feet in snow is so continuous it sends a prickle up my spine. Exactly how many of these things are there?
I’ve never personally seen a metlak myself, because they keep to the higher parts of the mountains, and on the coast, we’re in a sheltered, lower part of the land. I’ve heard they’re far more common back where the Croatoan tribe had their home before, in the caves back to the north of their current village. I have to admit I’m curious. I’ve been told they’re intelligent, that they use hand signals to communicate, and that they can be vicious when startled. I guess I expect them to look a bit like monkeys, and when the first one comes into view, I suppose I’m vaguely right. The metlak that takes the lead walks more or less upright, his back slightly hunched over as he strides forward. His arms are long, his fingers tipped with menacing-looking claws, and the tail on him is short and nub-like. He’s taller than I am, and his long limbs are covered in a dirty white fur that I get a whiff of and nearly choke on. That fuckerstinks.
The face is not like a monkey at all, though. The eyes are half-hidden by the filthy white hair covering his face, but they’re rounded and large, and he blinks like an owl. The snout ends in a vicious-looking beak, and as I watch, the one in the lead strides forward, makes a gesture, and then continues to prowl along the path. He passes by us without noticing our presence, and I’m grateful for I’rec and O’jek both as Daisy quivers next to me.
Another one races forward to join the first, and then another, and then there’s an absolute flood of the metlaks following the one in the lead. The stink of them all together is so bad that my eyes water, and I’m boggled as they move through the valley, oblivious to our presence so close nearby. I know it’s because we’re downwind, that we’re hidden in the shadows, that both O’jek and I’rec are camouflaged in front of us, but it feels strange to crouch nearby and watch as dozens of the creatures wander past and not a single one picks up on the fact that there are tracks all over the snow that they didn’t make. I see a tiny metlak scooped up by a bigger one and hoisted onto its parent’s back, and another passes by with a tiny baby in its arms, making a soft, shrill noise at it.
It takes them a while to pass, and even when the last straggler races after the others, we remain where we are, silent. We watch as they head through the valley, and where the path forks, they head off in the opposite direction from where we came from—moving deeper into the mountains instead of heading for the shore.
I touch I’rec’s back with cold fingers when the last of them disappears out of sight. “Are we safe?” I whisper. When he nods, I ask the question burning on my mind. “Where are they going?”
He glances back at me. “I do not know. I have never seen so many together all at once.”
“Should we warn the others?” Daisy asks, biting one of her nails.
O’jek thinks for a moment and then glances at I’rec. “They do not head for the fruit cave or the beach. It is not our concern.”
Oh, are we near the path to the fruit caves? I didn’t realize. “You think they’re the ones that stole all the fruit?”
“Not if they are coming from that direction,” O’jek says, pointing where the exodus emerged. “Unless they are circling back. But those do not look as if they have eaten fruit.” He gestures at his mouth. “Their fur is not colorful here.”
Excellent point. Something tells me that they’re not the cleanest eaters. O’jek’s got a point that they’d probably be multicolored if they’d eaten the bright red, pink and orange fruit. “Maybe they’re hiding from sky-claw?”
I’rec’s tail gives my leg a squeeze. “We would have seen signs on the snow that sky-claw were in the area. They would have left spoor.”
“Oh.”
“But it is a good idea,” I’rec tells me, and he looks proud at my suggestions. “You have the mind of a hunter.”
I know he’s just flattering me because he wants to get laid, but I have to admit, I like the look of approval he wears on his face, as if he’s delighted that I’m trying to solve the puzzle of the metlaks. It makes me feel good that he’s proud of me, even in small moments like this. “So what do we do now?”
“We wait a bit longer, to ensure they are not doubling back, and then we go on our journey.” I’rec rubs my knee absently. “We will keep you safe.”
“I know.” I’m not scared. I’m just wildly curious at this new puzzle piece. What would make the metlaks flee in such a large number? Does it have anything to do with the missing fruit?