A glance behind told him that the party of Scabs had indeed split, half after him, half after the others.

Once again the Shataiki shrieked along the tops of the cliffs.

Once again he’d fled his comrades to split the Horde.

Once again he faced death.

What happened now was beyond his control. The canyon would either give him a way back up to the desert floor or end in a box.

He could hear the thudding of hooves behind him. They didn’t seem to be falling behind quickly.

Lover of my soul, save this tiny ant from the beasts. He whispered the common prayer in his mind. Then repeated it.

Elyon, lover of my soul, save this creature from the beasts.

The rock walls on each side rose higher, steeper. A box-end was coming—he could sense it.

Without warning, the cliff on his right suddenly gaped into a second smaller ravine. Johnis veered and thundered in. But he’d gone only fifty yards and turned a slight bend before realizing he’d made a mistake.

This smaller canyon ended here! Large boulders twice the size of his horse were piled at the end, blocking any passage. The walls on both sides were vertical, a hundred feet high. One particularly massive stone towered to his right, fifty feet high, but not high enough to reach the top of the cliff.

Dear Elyon, save this scrapper!

The muted sound of hooves on sand boomed just beyond the bend behind him. For the first time in his life, Johnis withdrew his sword with the intent to kill or be killed.

He spun his horse back and swallowed the fist stuck in his throat.

“You are not forgotten, Mother,” he said in a soft shaky voice.

“Psst.”

An animal was scurrying behind the huge boulder beside him, but Johnis cared more about the ten animals that were about to tear around the corner.

What would Father do in this situation? He’d always wanted Johnis to join the Guard. Well, he had—for about half a day, before being cut down by the Scabs. It would be the shortest time served in the short history of the Forest Guard.

“Psst. Pssssssssst.”

Johnis turned to the psst. A creature, maybe two or three feet tall, white and furry with bat wings and a cute face, stared at him with green eyes, beckoning him with a spindly finger.

Johnis was so startled that for a moment he forgot about the Horde.

“Hurry, boy!” the fuzzy white bat creature cried. “Are you wanting to be steak?”

“What?”

“This way if you want to live!”

The creature ducked behind the rock. Johnis wheeled his horse and hurried forward. A wide gap led into darkness, hidden from the canyon by the boulder. Large enough for a horse.

Johnis could barely see the furry white body of the bat waddling into the darkness. He held his breath and plunged forward into the crevice.