“I don’t know, but it is something, another sammad perhaps. If he is not there they may know of him. We’ll stop here. You tell the others—I want to see where this trail goes.”

It was almost dark when Herilak came to the water and looked across at the island. Too dark to go on. He sniffed the air. Was there a trace of woodsmoke? He could not be sure. He would find out in the morning.

They ate well that night, gorged themselves because there was far more meat here than they could possibly eat or preserve. Only old Fraken complained at the toughness of the meat, but this was because he had very few teeth left. The boy-without-a-name had to cut Fraken’s food into small pieces for the old man, was ordered to do this before he ate himself. Though he did stick some of the pieces into his mouth when Fraken looked away. Herilak chewed the meat without thinking about it, wondering what he would find on the island in the morning. He lay awake a long time that night, slept restlessly, then awoke while there were still stars in the sky. He took some cold meat from the ashes of the fire and bit off a piece, went to wake Hanath.

“I want you to come with me. I’ll need help crossing to the island.”

Morgil awoke when Herilak spoke. “What about me?” he asked.

“Stay with the sammad. Smoke as much of the meat as you can. We’ll be back as soon as we see if there are Tanu out there. If there is a sammad Hanath will come and tell you.”

It was a cool morning and they moved swiftly down the trail to the water’s edge. Hanath lifted his head and sniffed the air.

“Smoke,” he said, pointing at the island. “Coming from over there.”

“I thought I smelled it last night—and look here, these marks. A raft or a boat has been pulled up onto the mud. There is someone on the island, there has to be.”

“How do we get across?”

“The same way . . .”

“See—something is moving over there, under the trees.”

Both hunters stood motionless and silent, peering at the shadows under the distant trees. A bough was pushed aside and someone emerged into the sunlight, then another.

“A hunter and a boy,” Hanath said.

“Two boys, one big enough to be a hunter.”

Herilak cupped his hands before his mouth and called out an ululating cry. Both boys stopped and turned—then waved when they saw the hunters. Then they turned and disappeared back under the trees.

Kerrick looked at them when the boys came running down the slope, shouting, so out of breath they could barely gasp out the words.

“Hunters, two of them, over the water.”

“Were they Tanu?” Ortnar asked, dragging himself up.

“They had hair just like ours, and spears,” Harl said. “They are Tanu hunters.”