Choking back a cry of disgust and terror, Lief scrambled higher into the tree, forcing his trembling legs and arms to obey his will. One branch. Then another. And another.
A terrible growl sounded in the clearing. He looked down. Barda and Jasmine were just below him, and they, too, were looking down. The Wennbar had reached the fern bed. It was snapping its jaws together, jerking its head from side to side, growling with anger at finding its prize gone.
We are safe! thought Lief, his heart pounding. Safe! It cannot reach us up here. He closed his eyes, almost dizzy with relief.
“Lief!” shrieked Jasmine.
And Lief opened his eyes just in time to see the Wennbar rear up, its front legs clawing at the air, its pale grey belly gleaming through the dimness. The creature roared, and the folds of skin hanging from its neck disappeared as the neck swelled and grew, raising its head higher, higher …
And then it was leaping forward, hurling itself at the tree, its jaws snapping, its tiny eyes burning with rage and hunger.
Terror drove Lief upwards. Afterwards, he could not remember climbing for his life while the Wennbar’s huge body crashed against the trunk of the tree and its cruel jaws snapped at his heels. He had not had time to draw his sword. He had had no time for anything but escape.
When he came to himself he was clinging to a high branch, with Jasmine and Barda beside him. The Wennbar’s foul breath filled the air. Its roars filled their ears.
They were at last too high for it to reach them, even with its neck fully extended. But it was not giving up. It was dashing itself against the tree, raking the bark with its claws, trying to make them fall.
It was still not completely dark, but it was growing very cold. Lief’s cloak kept his body warm but his hands, clinging to the tree, were numb. Beside him, Barda was shivering violently, and his teeth were chattering.
If this goes on, he will fall, Lief thought. He drew as near as he could to Barda and Jasmine. With cold, clumsy fingers he gathered up his cloak and threw it around them so that they could share its warmth.
For a moment they huddled together. And then, Lief realized that something had changed.
The beast had stopped beating itself against the tree. The roars had given way to a low, rumbling growl. Lief felt a movement and realized that Jasmine was peeping through the folds of the cloak to see what was happening.
“It is moving away,” she breathed in wonder. “It is as though it cannot see us any longer, and thinks we have somehow escaped. But why?”
“The cloak,” whispered Barda feebly. “The cloak — must be hiding us.”
Lief’s heart leapt as he remembered what his mother had said when she gave him the cloak. This, too, will protect you wherever you go … The fabric is — special.
Just how special?
He heard Jasmine draw a sharp breath. “What is it?” he hissed.
“The Wenn are coming,” she said. “I see their eyes. They have heard the roaring cease. They think that the Wennbar has finished with you. They have come for the scraps that remain.”
Lief shuddered. Carefully he moved the cloak aside and peered down to the clearing.
Red eyes were glowing in the bushes, near to where the Wennbar prowled. The creature lifted its head, glared, and gave a loud, sharp barking call. It sounded like an order of some kind.
The bushes rustled. The Wennbar called again, even more loudly. And finally two pale, bent shapes crept, quivering, into the clearing to kneel before it.
The Wennbar grunted. Carelessly it seized the kneeling shapes, tossed them into the air, caught them in its hideous jaws and swallowed them whole.
Sickened, Lief turned away from the horrible sight.
Jasmine pushed away the cloak and stood up. “We are safe, now,” she said. “See? The Wenn have run away, and the creature is going back to its cave.”
Lief and Barda exchanged glances. “The cave must be the hiding place,” Barda said in a low voice. “Tomorrow night, when the creature comes out to feed, we will search it.”
“There is nothing in the Wennbar’s cave but bones and stink,” Jasmine snorted. “What is it you are looking for?”
“We cannot tell you,” said Barda, stiffly hauling himself to his feet. “But we know that it has been hidden in the most secret place in the Forests of Silence, and that it has a terrible Guardian. Where else could that be but here?”
To their surprise, Jasmine burst out laughing. “How little you know!” she cried. “Why, this is only a tiny corner at the very edge of this one Forest. There are three Forests in all, and each has a hundred places more dangerous and more secret than this!”
Lief and Barda glanced at each other again as her laughter rang out in the clearing. And then, suddenly, the sound stopped. When they turned to look at her again, she was frowning.
“What is it?” asked Lief.
“It is just …” Jasmine broke off and shook her head. “We will not speak of it now. I will take you to my nest. There we will be safe. There we can talk.”
They travelled as fast as Lief and Barda were able. As the forest thickened they kept to the treetops almost all the way, climbing from one branch to another, using vines to help them. Above were patches of star-studded sky. Below there was silent darkness. Kree flew ahead of them, stopping to wait when they fell behind. Filli clung to Jasmine’s shoulder, his eyes wide and bright.
With every moment, Lief felt his strength returning. But still he was glad when they at last reached Jasmine’s home. It was indeed a sort of nest — a big saucer of woven branches and twigs perched high in a huge, twisted tree that grew by itself in a mossy clearing. The moon shone down through the leaves above, flooding the nest with soft, white light.
Jasmine did not speak at once. She made Lief and Barda sit while she brought out berries, fruits, nuts, and the hard shell of some sort of melon filled to the brim with sweet, cool water.
Lief rested, looking around in wonder. Jasmine had few possessions. Some of them — like a broken-toothed comb, a tattered sleeping blanket, an old shawl, two tiny bottles, and a small, carved wooden doll — were sad reminders of the parents she had lost. Others — a belt, two daggers, several flints to make fire, and many gold and silver coins — had come from the bodies of Grey Guards who had been sacrificed to the Wennbar.
Jasmine was carefully dividing the food and drink into five equal parts, setting out Filli’s and Kree’s places as if they were indeed part of her family. Watching her, Lief realized with a shock that her tattered grey clothes had also come from Grey Guards. She had cut and tied the cloth to fit her.
It made him squirm to think of her robbing helpless victims and leaving them to die. He tried to remember that Guards had taken Jasmine’s parents — killed them, probably, or at least enslaved them — and left her alone in this wild forest. But still, her ruthlessness chilled him.
“Eat!”
Jasmine’s voice broke into his thoughts. He looked up as she sat down beside him. “Food will help you to recover,” she said. “And this food is good.” She helped herself to a strange, pink-colored fruit and bit into it greedily, the juice running down her chin.
I am a fool to judge her, Lief thought. She lives as best she can. And it is thanks to her that we are alive. She put herself in grave danger for us, when she could have turned her back. Now she has brought us to her home and shares her food and drink with us.