Stutter had never once questioned Mamere, but now he and Lad were the only ones not wearing Thirteen. And they were the only ones not sleeping. They passed the night under the rock, dozing occasionally, but always waking to wonder if the slithering thing were even now stealing another son to eat.
In the cold of first light, Stutter sneaked from his hiding place and looked around. The other boys were still where they had rolled up the night before. He ventured farther, dodging from tree-trunk to tree-trunk in the direction that Royal had disappeared. Not far from the camp, he found the heir. Or rather, he found what was left of his brother. The clothes were covered in blood. His shoes and weapons were missing.
Trembling, he bolted for camp. The other boys were stirring when he returned.
