It began to rain during the night, thundering onto the tent and creeping in under the flaps. In the gray, wet dawn the two hunters left the island and started south towards the city. They knew the track well and made good time. On the third day they turned off of the wide track that the sammads had used and moved instead among the trees on one of the animal trails. They had hunted here many times before and Herilak seemed to know every stand of forest and depth of stream. When they reached a dark and stagnant pond he stopped in the shelter of the trees.

“We are very close now. Beyond the water there was the swamp of the large murgu with three horns.”

“Nenitesk. Are you sure? I don’t think I ever entered the city from this direction before.”

“I am sure. ”

“They were always in the most distant fields, the furthest out from the center of the city. If we can locate them I think I can find the place with the death-sticks from there.”

There was a loud crashing from the forest ahead of them, followed by a hoarse bellow. Weapons ready they approached the outermost barrier of the city. The trees here were thickly grown and interlaced with vines, some of them growing poisonous thorns. This barrier stopped or turned away most animals—but not the one that had just passed. Branches were broken and undergrowth crushed; deep footsteps in the marshy ground were still filling with water. Stamped there by massive feet armed with sharp claws.

Herilak grunted in recognition. “The big killer marag.”

“Epetruk. It must have smelled the nenitesk. We must follow it—this is the best way to get inside the city.”

A great roaring and screeching ahead marked the encounter of the epetruk with its prey. But it was an evenly matched battle. As the epetruk circled about, the nenitesk turned always to face it with the large bony shield that protected its head. The epetruk was wary of the three long horns; smears of blood on one of them showed why. There was another bellow from the swamp as a second nenitesk lurched towards the battle. The epetruk, enraged though it was, had enough intelligence to see the danger. It turned its head back and forth and roared. Twisted about, lashing its tail as it backed away. The hunters, feeling very small and exposed, ran for the protection of the large trees beyond. Behind them the crashing died to silence as the epetruk retreated. Kerrick looked for a way out of the field, for any familiar landmark.

“That way,” he said. “We’ll have to circle about since we must stay away from the inner fields as long as possible.”