On the Meldon Plain (The Fourline Trilogy Book 2)

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Authors: Pam Brondos
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forward, afraid that if she looked back, she might change her mind.
    The tunnel curved, and Nat felt the familiar vibrations increase until they tickled the soles of her feet. The orb circled back to her every few seconds as if making sure she was okay. She took a couple of deep breaths and quickened her pace. The sphere was hovering above the membrane when she rounded the final curve. She stopped in front of the opaque surface and took another deep breath before reaching for her orb. After tucking it safely into her cloak pocket, Nat pressed both hands on the membrane. “Here we go, Sister,” she said and pushed through, leaving all doubt behind.

CHAPTER EIGHT
    Droplets of rain pelted the crumbling roof of the abandoned trapper’s hut where Nat had sheltered for the night. She sheathed her dagger and eyed the rusted-out traps clustered in the corner, wondering what had happened to the hut’s former occupant. She flexed her hand, working out a cramp from clutching the dagger hilt while she’d slept. A tingling sensation spread through her fingers.
    She pulled her hood over her head and bent down to remove a wire trap near the opening of the hut. She’d placed the trap the night before as a precaution against the Nala. The smooth wire wound into a tight circle in her palm. She slipped it into her pack and glanced around the ramshackle hut before edging through the broken door.
    A few paces from the hut, Nat released her orb into the air. It spun as if on an axis and warmed her face with its glow. At least I have you for company, she thought, feeling lonely after the long cold night in the hut. The orb dipped and bobbed, exposing a faint game trail with its light. She stepped onto the trail, recognizing it from Barba’s map, and ran into the woods.
    After a few hours of steady jogging, the game trail grew more difficult to follow. Nat paused near a stream, trying to remember any helpful details from Barba’s mental map of the forest. Why would Ethet be here? Maybe Barba’s information was wrong, she thought as she jumped across the thin, muddy stream swollen with rainwater. The eastern forest led to the upper coastline, the Nala’s main territory. This was the last place she imagined Ethet would come.
    Thinking of Ethet brought Soris to her mind. As much as she wanted to see him, she hoped he wasn’t with Ethet. Unless Annin had erased his memory, he knew now how Nat had lied to him and pretended to be a Warrior Sister when all she’d really been was a college kid from another world fumbling her way through Fourline. He had to hate her for it. She’d rather find and behead the Nala on her own and help Soris without him ever knowing. Maybe then she could feel a little less guilty.
    Thunder rattled across the sky. Nat paused. Between her hood and the storm, she’d never be able to hear approaching Nala. Dropping to a crouch, she unhooked her cloak, shoved it into her bag, and applied a thick layer of mud to the exterior of the bag. A little camouflage won’t hurt. She dug her hand into the bed of decaying leaves and smeared mud across her face, neck, and hands, covering any exposed skin.
    The game trail disappeared entirely not far from the stream. She glanced at the daylight above the tips of the pines. I guess I’ll go with my gut, she thought and jogged around a fallen tree. Cold rain trickled down her mud-encrusted face as she ran.
    Hours passed. The only thing she heard was the beating of her heart and the rain pattering against the pine trees. She stopped to sip from her water flask. Light filtered in front of her where the trees thinned slightly. Nat capped her flask and edged toward the light, trying to focus on the distant rumbling and not the ache in her shoulder.
    Nat stepped out of the tree line and found herself on a slab of rock jutting over a river. Raging water rushed through a small canyon. She crouched next to a cluster of boulders set above the river and watched the water flow, looking for a

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