of safety, one even harder to assault than this one. I know
these woods, and you know I speak the truth. So why not
depart now before suffering any more senseless losses? It’s
a stupid leader who sacrifices his people for no gain.”
Muttering came from different places in the trees, proof
that Drom’s last words had hit home. Hathcar hastened to
respond.
“No matter if you lead them elsewhere. We’ll track you
down no matter where you go.”
“Perhaps you will. Or perhaps you’ll find yourselves
led into a trap. We of the forest have ways of defending
ourselves against you lovers of civilization. There are
hidden pits and tree-mounted weapons scattered through-
out my territory. Follow me and find them at your peril.”
This time the woods were silent. Drom nodded to
himself. “Good. They’re thinking it over, probably argu-
ing about it. If they come to their senses, we may be able
to get out of here without any more violence.”
Jon-Tom peered through the narrow slit in the stone.
“You think they’ll really react that sensibly?”
234
Alan Dean Foster
“I don’t know, but he knows I’m talking truth,” said the
unicorn softly. “I know this section of forest better than he
does, and he knows that I know that.”
“But how could we slip out of here and get past them?”
Drom chuckled. “1 did fudge on that one a bit. Yet for
all he knows there are a dozen secret passages out of
here.”
“If there are, they’re bloody well still secret.” Mudge
emerged from the crawlspace he’d entered and wiped
limestone dust from his shirt and whiskers. “Tight as a