“We’re being followed.”

The words sent equal parts of fear and hope rushing through Allison when she overheard them. Ubira announced the news for everyone to hear, though it was directed to the masked, hooded individuals they traveled with. The leader — Allison thought the woman was the leader, though she had a hard time telling them apart since they were all dressed the same — stared at Ubira for a moment, then gave a short nod. She turned to a pair of her fellow masked friends and gestured down the trail. They set off without a word.

There were close to thirty of the masked people, including the half of the group that had risen from the rocks and recaptured her, Professor Ruggs, Kattoh and Myri. After warning them against running, they’d bound the escaped captives’ hands and escorted them back to the remnants of the camp. Other smaller groups brought in escaped captives while Ubira spoke with their leader. Ubira seemed neither surprised nor bothered by the new arrivals. Allison guessed they must have been the friends he’d referred to. She also suspected that Ubira never meant for the slavers to live beyond the gathering with the new group, even before they’d attacked him.

In the faint light of the scattered campfires, Allison stared at the dead bodies of the slavers. Some of the masked people were going through their belongings or gathering up the Earth Badger caravan loot. The way they went about their business looked no different than if they’d been picking flowers or collecting firewood. Allison thought it was everything the slavers had deserved.

It irritated her to no end that they’d been so close to freedom only to get rounded up again. Some had made it, though. Out of the total group of captives between those taken in raids and the Earth Badger traders taken from the caravan attack, they looked to be about half the size. Allison prayed the rest made it to freedom even as a small part of her wished with all her heart she could trade places with them.

The masked people loaded up everything of value, though they seemed to want the scant supplies most, followed by the remaining human captives. While they went about their task, Allison studied them in the firelight. Each wore a carved wooden mask made of some sort of pale white wood. A line of red down from each eye socket, almost like they were crying tears of blood. The entire group wore long ponchos that almost reached their feet. These were a slate gray color the same as the mountain rock behind them. The ponchos all had hoods, which the group kept pulled over their heads, so only the white masks carved with expressionless faces showed. Each carried an obsidian knife and a club — a stick about as thick as a broom handle, with another chunk of obsidian wrapped around the top. About half had bows and quivers of arrows, which the masked people used to kill most of the slavers before they’d even seen what hit them.

“There are less than twenty slaves here,” the woman said in her flat voice. “Too many have escaped.”

“Enough remain for your needs,” Ubira said. He didn’t look phased by the upset woman or the fact he’d just come away from a fight in which he was outnumbered almost twenty to one and didn’t have a single scratch to show for it. Allison wished the new arrivals had been ten minutes later. Ubira might not have come out so well, then.

The woman surveyed the group of slaves sitting inside the guarded ring. When the empty sockets of the woman’s mask fell on Allison, she did her best to twist her face into a snarl of defiance. The woman paid no mind.

“Fire Bison and Storm Horse,” she said, as if ticking items off a grocery list. Good, we have the rest.” She gestured to Allison and Professor Ruggs. “What about those two?”

“Spirit travelers,” Ubira said. Allison heard a defensive tone in his voice and she saw the hand he held his stone staff grip the weapon tighter. “They are mine.”

The masked woman turned back to him. Allison could imagine her eyebrows raised in surprise at her coverings. “Indeed? And what do you plan to do with them?”

Shakraa swooped down like a specter out of the dark. She landed beside her master, red eyes blazing in the night. By now, she was as tall as Ubira and she hissed through the twisted fangs of her broad beak.

Ubira smiled. “That is none of your concern. I have fulfilled our agreement as promised. We should be going. There are others, Storm Horse and possibly Earth Badger now, too, that are searching for their loved ones we took.”

This time, the masked woman sounded genuinely angry. Her voice rose in a sharp, cracked hiss, sinister enough to rival Shakraa’s “How many?”

“Less than a dozen,” Ubira said. “I did not send Shakraa for a closer look, to protect our location. She sensed one of their Mana Beasts sniffing around from a distance yesterday, so they will be coming.”

“You did not say they had beastcallers with them,” the woman said. “How many?”

“Two,” Ubira said. “They will not be a threat. One is companion strength while the other is only a ward. I will handle them if necessary.”

“It would not do well for any of them to reach the temple,” the woman said. “No matter what their numbers are. We should leave.”

After two of the masked people disappeared down the trail, Ubira walked over to them. His face was still hid from the nose down behind his scarf. Allison wondered if he was angry at them for escaping, and what he might do after the promises he’d made to the captives the first morning after the village attack.

“Allison and Arthur,” he said like they were old friends. “I am glad to see you rejoined our little adventure. I was worried about you last night.”

“How could we say no?” Professor Ruggs said with a thin smile. “It isn’t often one gets to experience such exotic travel.”

Ubira’s shoulders rose in a silent chuckle. “That is what I like about you, Arthur: always optimistic.” He turned his attention to Allison. “And what about you?”

“What about me?” Allison said. “I hoped one of the slavers would stab you in the heart.”

This time, actual laughter filtered through Ubira’s mask. “And that is what I like about you, Allison: always speaking your mind. You should be careful what you say around our new friends, though. They are not as humorous as I.”

“And who are our new friends?” Professor Ruggs asked. “In all the commotion last night, I’m afraid we haven’t been introduced.”

A light shone in Ubira’s eyes. “They are… passionate believers, you could say. On the fanatic side, maybe, but they are undertaking a great work. One that we have the honor of being part of.”

He looked like he was about to say more, but before he could, the two masked people who’d gone back down the trail returned. They spoke in low voices to the woman, too quiet for Allison to hear from where they were. The top half of Ubira’s face seemed to twist in a frown at the secrecy.

“I need to speak with our new friends again,” he said. As an afterthought, he looked back to Allison. “Remember what I told you about your brother?”

“Is he with them?” Allison shouted to Ubira’s back. “Don’t you let them do anything to him!”

Professor Ruggs laid a comforting hand on Allison’s shoulder. Allison shrugged him off. “Don’t make me feel better,” she said. “What do you think is going to happen now? We had our chance to escape, and we blew it.”

“Sshh, Allison,” Professor Ruggs said. “Quiet your voice. We should not let these people hear us talking about escaping. We will get another chance. Until then, we have to be patient.”

Allison’s anger still simmered, but she listened to the professor. If Kellen was one of the people still following them, that meant he’d found her hoodie string. If she was careful, she might be able to keep leaving clues for him and whoever he was with. She’d watch the masked people just like she had the slavers and find a way.

To their surprise, the masked people didn’t resume their hike right away. Ubira, the woman and a few others spoke in a tight circle for a short time, apparently arguing about something based on Ubira’s hand gestured and the shaking heads of the others.

Allison shivered and wrapped her arms around Myri to keep her warm. Heights terrified the little girl. In certain spots where the trail narrowed, she’d sat down and cried until the professor or one of the older children carried her so the masked people didn’t beat them for moving too slow.

They’d stopped on a high saddle between two foreboding mountain peaks. Even at this height, Allison couldn’t see the tops, which were still covered by clouds. Nothing grew up here except patches of moss. Pale rocks stretched out in both directions, small ones that would offer no hiding places, even if they could sneak away at night.

The path ahead disappeared in the shale and loose rock, leaving Allison with no clue where they might be heading next. Another wall of stone rose up ahead of them, the back part of the bowl formed by the steep slopes ahead to the left and right. Surely they weren’t climbing over that, though? From their vantage point below, the mountains rose straight up and, even with ropes and climbing gear from earth, there seemed nowhere to go.

“I do not like it up here in the high places of the Wakar,” Kattoh said, rubbing his arms to warm them up. A brisk wind blew by, carrying a sprinkle of ice crystals and snowflakes off of one of the big snow drifts tucked into the steep crags of the mountain where snow stayed year round. “Where do you think we are going?”

“My guess is these cultists have a camp somewhere,” Professor Ruggs said. At the questioning looks of the children, he clarified. “That is what I’ve decided to name them. They clearly belong to some group or organization. It seemed fitting. I imagine after we make it over these mountains, we will start down the other side, or at least into a valley.”

Shouts from the cultists brought the captives to their feet. With the woman and Ubira in the lead, they started on a winding path up the far end of the bowl. Allison’s legs felt like spaghetti noodles. The climb took most of the afternoon and by the time they reached the sheer cliff face, Allison’s toes were numb, her teeth chattered, and her stomach roared with hunger. Since they were on an east-facing slope, the sun had already disappeared overhead. Allison could still see its light stretched out on the peaks and plains far below them, but they were already in the shadow of the mountain and would not feel sunshine again until morning.

To Allison’s surprise, a series of woven baskets sat at the base of the cliff. Long, thick ropes rose from the tops of the baskets to an unseen location overhead, at least fifty yards or so. The cultists handed out a small amount of dried meats and berries for the captives to eat, then passed around a wooden canteen, forcing each of them to drink. Allison wondered if it was the same thing they’d been forced to choke down on the plains, but when it was shoved in her face, she knew it was different. The smell was just as bad, though this smelled like a mixture of skunk and the really bad cologne Kellen had worn his first two years of high school. Allison tipped back the contents and took a drink. It tasted just as bad as it smelled and burned her tongue and soon as it touched it. Out of reflex, she coughed and spat it out over the rocks between her feet.

The blow came before she had time to look up, an open-handed slap that made white spots blossom in her eyes and caused her to cry out in pain, tears streaming from her eyes.

“Have a care!” she heard Professor Ruggs shout. “She’s just a girl.”

Without a word, the masked cultist shoved the canteen under her nose again. Even through the daze, she got the message and managed a small swallow of the nasty drink. As soon as it hit her stomach, a warmth rushed through her limbs that almost made the horrible taste worth it.

“Are you okay?” Kattoh asked. For once, and most likely because of the drink, his stick-like frame was no longer quivering from the cold.

“I’m fine,” Allison said through gritted teeth. She touched the side of her head with her fingertips and soothed the pain a bit.

When the cultist with the canteen finished his round among the captives, a group of six of them were herded into the big cages. As Allison watched them climb in, she realized the baskets were made of bones lashed together, bones that made the ones in their livestock graveyard back home look like chew toys for little dogs. Loaded inside, the cultists lashed the door shut and waved a torch overhead. The cage of bones wobbled, then rose from the ground, bouncing against the cliff side every few feet as it did.

“I don’t want to go in there,” Myri cried, clinging to Allison. “Don’t make me!”

“Hey now,” Allison said, “We’ll go together, okay? It will be fun. And I’ll hold you real tight!” As Allison said the last word, she wrapped Myri in a tight hung and laughed into her neck. The little girl let out a small whimper.

“Tell you what,” Allison said. “You stay right here and keep your eyes closed. When we get to the top, I’ll tell you to open them. How does that sound?”

Myri nodded, her face already buried in Allison’s neck. With some effort and help from the professor, Allison climbed to her feet holding the girl. Taking careful steps over the loose rock, she, Kattoh, Myri and the professor climbed inside the cage as it bumped off the ground. The four of them just fit, sitting cross-legged and facing one another. Through the bars of bone, Allison saw the cultist leader wave the torch back and forth and they rose off the ground with an unbalanced jerk that almost sent her flying into Kattoh. Professor Ruggs held out a hand and caught the two of them, Myri still wrapped tight around Allison, her face hidden.

The journey up the cliff side felt like one of the cheap carnival rides that came to their local county fair each year: jostling, nerve-wracking, and likely to break and kill the passengers at any moment.. Allison glanced down just once, The light from the torch was a tiny ball below, and the people looked like dolls. That was enough. Like Myri, she closed her eyes for the rest of the trip, too.

At the top, another dozen cultists, with the same masks, clothes, and weapons, waited to collect them. In the fading light, Allison looked to her left and saw a tunnel heading into the side of the mountain, its end lost in the encroaching darkness. By the time the last cage of passengers made it to the top, night had fallen and cold, uncaring stars twinkled down on them. Allison’s breath caught in her chest as she looked out over the rocky plain below. She imagined she could make out a tiny group of figures picking their way across the barren slopes far below. She said nothing, hoping none of the others noticed.

“What the ones following us?” Ubira asked.

The woman in charge stared out over the mountain pass below before answering. “There is a place ahead where we will deal with them.”