“Who says they’re hiding?” Malia asked. She nodded in the direction of the hunter who’d come to stand beside Rastaban, chiding him for bothering the women. “If I’m not mistaken, that’s his lieutenant. He hasn’t done anything but hunt for days.”
“Rastaban’s definitely up to something. Send the scouts further into the valley. Rendezvous in seven days.” Shanka slithered back through the grass and to her horse. She rode back toward camp, mulling over what she’d seen. If Old Master was right, then Rastaban was secretly plotting something. If Old Master was wrong, Shanka was in for a long haul.
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