Prince Danny's Arc

Chapter 11 of 11

Danny crouched in the moss and listened. Shouts echoed from the field behind him. Boots crashed through brush, closer than they should be. The crumb trail glittered ahead, a bright line straight to his family. A line his pursuers could follow just as easily. He pushed forward, fast and low. A torn cloak hung snagged on mossy rocks near the path, dark with fresh blood. Not his. Not hers. A scout had been here, and someone had cut him down. The hunt had already entered the trees. Then he saw the footprints. Fresh, pressed deep in the soft dirt beside the crumbs. Bare feet. Small ones, and larger. His family's tracks, plain as a painted sign. Anyone with eyes would read them. The crumbs led the hunters. The footprints sealed it. Danny dropped to his knees and swept the crumbs aside with both hands. He scattered them sideways into the ferns, breaking the line. He scuffed the prints with his palms, dragged moss and leaves across them, smeared the trail into nothing. His hands shook. Behind him, voices grew louder. He followed what remained of the marks until the trees opened on a low log cabin tucked against a slope, roof bright with shingles, chimney quiet. He knocked their old signal on the door. It opened a finger's width. Allee's green eyes found his. "They're close," he said. "I broke the trail. It should hold." She nodded once. "Soon isn't soon enough," she said, and pulled him inside. The door shut behind him. For the first time in three weeks, his whole family stood in one room.