Dara wanted to see in him the protector from the prophecy, a resource the clan needed in a changing world. Radmila saw him as the end of the order she knew. In their own ways, both women were right.
Both were dangerous. The heavy bar scraped, and the door opened a little, letting in a wash of cold evening air. A young woman stood in the doorway.
It was Zora, the youngest of the three hunters who had taken him in the woods. She could not have been more than twenty. In her hands she carried a wooden bowl and a clay cup.
She stepped inside carefully, leaving the door open behind her. Her movements were stiff and wary, the way people approach a wounded dog they still think might bite. “Eat,” she said quietly, setting the bowl on the dirt floor a few feet from him.
“Mother ordered it. You’ll need your strength for tonight.” Max opened his eyes and pulled the bowl toward him without sudden movement.
Inside was boiled meat, tough and stringy, and water with a sharp pine taste. He ate slowly, chewing every bite.
Every calorie mattered now. His body was already running close to empty. And the coming night promised to be long.
The girl did not leave. She stood by the wall with her arms crossed, watching him with a mix of fear and curiosity. “What’s your name?” Max asked in an even voice.
She flinched a little. “Zora.” “Zora. Good name. Are you afraid of me?”
“Outsiders bring death,” she said quickly, like a line she had learned by heart, but her voice wavered. “You bring sickness. You burn forests. You take what isn’t yours.”
“I haven’t taken anything from you, and I don’t plan to. What’s the first trial?” Zora looked away, up toward the strip of light under the roof.
She was quiet for a long moment, then answered. “It’s a hunt. We call it the blind owl hunt.”
“They’ll give you a head start before the sun leaves the tops of the trees. You have to stay inside Black Ravine. If you cross the boundary, you die.”
“If you’re still alive at dawn and nobody finds you, you pass.” Max nodded. So: limited perimeter, night forest, no weapons.
“Who hunts me?”
“Radmila and three of the best trackers. They know every inch of that ravine.”
“You won’t be able to hide from Radmila in her own woods.”
“We’ll see,” Max said, finishing the water.
At that same time, on the far side of the settlement, Radmila was sharpening her knife. She sat in a large house whose walls were hung with bear skulls. The whetstone whispered against the blade in a steady, irritating rhythm.
Three other women sat in the shadows. Her inner circle. The elite among the hunters. “Mother’s lost her judgment,” one of them said darkly. Her name was Vlasta.
She was a large woman with a square jaw and cold, unblinking eyes. “A man from prophecy? A shield? Come on.”
“He’s an outsider. He’s iron from the dirty world beyond the forest. If we let him live, he’ll tear apart what our foremothers built.” Radmila ran a thumb lightly along the knife edge.
A bead of blood appeared on her skin. She licked it away and stared into the fire. “He won’t live.”
“But Mother gave him a chance,” another woman said uncertainly. “If he survives the owl hunt…” “He won’t,” Radmila cut in.
“Mother said he has to stay in Black Ravine. She didn’t say how we have to hunt him. We’re not playing children’s games.”
“We’ll drive him into the rotten bog at the north end. No cover there. Just mud and dead trunks. Once he runs that way, we close the ring.”
“And if he doesn’t?” Vlasta asked.
Radmila smiled, and there was no warmth in it. “He will. We’ll leave him one open path. He thinks he’s a soldier. Thinks he’s smarter than we are.”
“We’ll use that against him. Give him hope first. Then break him.” An hour before sundown, they brought Max out of the holding hut.
They had taken his modern clothing—jumpsuit, thermal layers, boots. In exchange they tossed him rough leather pants and a loose wool shirt that scratched like insulation. On his feet they gave him soft winter boots with no ankle support.
No weapon. Not even a length of cord. Dara stood in silence in the square, leaning on her raven-topped staff. Nearly the whole settlement had gathered.
The quiet was so complete he could hear the dry crackle of firewood in the pits. “Your time has come, outsider,” Mother said. “Black Ravine begins beyond the south palisade.”
“You have until the last light leaves the top of the Great Cedar. Then our best hunters will follow your trail. If you live to morning dew, you pass the first trial.”
Max looked up at the Great Cedar rising over the settlement. The setting sun was already touching its crown. Twenty minutes’ lead, maybe less, he figured.
He shifted his gaze to Radmila. She stood ten paces away with her bow in hand. Her eyes held absolute confidence.
Max said nothing. He turned and walked toward the southern edge of the settlement with an easy, loose stride. But the moment he crossed the tree line, his movement changed.
The casual rhythm disappeared. In its place came a low, predatory glide. Black Ravine was a deep fold in the land choked with fern, moss, and wind-twisted birch. The humidity was nearly total.
The air sat heavy and still, like a root cellar. Max moved quickly, but without hurry. He read the enemy’s likely plan as he went.ююю
