Book 2: Ambush

Anwen

‘Wake up!’ Candace yells through mind-link. ‘Right fucking now!’

I shoot up. Candace doesn’t curse. She’s never cursed before.

‘I’m here. Who are you, and what did you do with my sister?’

‘Shut up. I had a dream. You need to move everyone.’

‘Your dreams are bullshit,’ I reply. ‘You can’t see the future.’

Drowsy, I rub my eyes and look at Estrella, curled naked on the blankets we pulled out of our packs and wound into a lazy nest.

‘We don’t have time to argue. Just answer me one question: are you willing to be wrong about this?’

Estrella’s skin is warm and golden in the pre-dawn light. Vulnerable.

But Father always said Candace made up the shit about her dreams because she wanted to feel special. There were a few spooky coincidences, but nothing more.

‘I—’

My ears prick. There, just barely audible. The rhythmic ka-thump, ka-thump of paw pads over dirt. Someone’s running toward us.

Fast.