[Galaxy Of Fear] - 11(3)

“Sun falls,” Maga growled. “Time to move. You slow us down.”

Tash looked up at the sun. “Sun falls” to the Dantari meant exactly what it sounded like: the sun had reached its highest point and was now sinking. It was just past midday.

Maga took an angry step forward. “Offworlders always slow us down.” His companions growled in agreement and stepped forward, too.

As the Dantari crowded around her, Tash’s heart skipped a beat.

“That is not true,” said the cold, hard voice of Uncle Hoole.

Tash suddenly realized her uncle was standing beside her. She didn’t know where he had come from. Hoole, like most Shi’ido, had a gift for moving silently and smoothly, and by now she was used to being surprised by him.

The Shi’ido was as tall as Maga, and stared right into his eyes. “My niece and nephew are always ready to move when the tribe moves,” he said, “and we always move just as quickly.”

Maga blinked. He didn’t like Hoole. But he was frightened by Hoole’s shape-changing power. He wouldn’t dare attack the Shi’ido. Maga stared back at Hoole for just a moment, then turned away, grunting, “Tribe moves. Do not be slow.”

Then he and his followers trudged away.

Tash scowled at Maga’s broad back. “That guy really sets my scanners off. Why does he have to treat us so badly? It makes me mad.”

“We must be tolerant,” Hoole advised. “Remember, we are their guests.”

“I don’t get why these Dantari are always so concerned about starting on time anyway,” Zak observed. “It’s not like there’s anywhere to go.”

Hoole frowned. “It may seem that way to us, Zak, but we are on their world. They have their own customs. They are nomads, and it is their tradition to travel from place to place.”

“You’d think they’d get tired once in a while,” Zak muttered.

“Remember,” Hoole said, “the Dantari do not possess modern technology, and they know little about farming. They must continually travel across the plains in search of food.”

Even after nearly a month, Tash and Zak were amazed by how quickly the Dantari broke down their tents, rolled up their animal-skin packs, and started off. In minutes, the small village of tents had vanished completely. The Dantari began marching away from their campsite in a loose, straggly line. With no discussion, the tribe seemed to know where it wanted to go.

Walking in the middle of the crowd, Tash saw the line of low hills ahead grow steadily larger. Because the prairie was so flat, it was hard to judge the distance. Tash thought the hills were very far away, but the tribe reached them long before sunset. The slopes weren’t very high, but they were steep.

“How are we going to climb those?” Tash asked.

“Not climb,” one of the Dantari said, pointing ahead.

Tash spotted a crack in the steep slope. As they approached, she realized that it was a ravine that led straight through the hills and to the other side.

Without pausing, the tribe of Dantari marched single file into the gap, forming a line to fit into the narrow pathway.

“Uncle Hoole,” Tash asked, “how do they know where they’re going?”

Hoole shook his head. “I do not have enough information to make a guess,” he explained. “However, I believe they are following a traditional path. Their ancestors probably made the same journey, at the same time of year, for thousands of years.”

“Boring!” Zak exclaimed.

His voice echoed loudly in the ravine. A moment later, something rumbled in answer.

“What’s that?” Tash asked.

“More echoes,” Zak replied. “I hope.”

But the sound wasn’t an echo. It got louder by the second, until it sounded as if the mountain itself was roaring. Tash looked up. For a fraction of a second, she thought she saw a broad-shouldered Dantari standing at the top of the ravine. Then her view was blocked by a boulder that came crashing down the slope. Behind it came another, and another. There were hundreds of rocks bouncing and tumbling down on them.

“Avalanche!”





CHAPTER 2


The shout of warning was all Tash could manage. She stood rooted to the spot, watching a boulder twice her size bounce down the steep hillside, heading right for her.

She watched it bounce once. Twice. Three times.

There were boulders falling all around Tash. She didn’t know if she was paralyzed with fear or was just in shock, but she couldn’t move.

Luckily, Hoole could. As soon as the boulders started falling, Hoole’s skin rippled across his bones-the weird effect that signaled a shape-change. In the next instant, the Shi’ido had vanished, replaced by a wide-bodied, thick-legged dewback. Tash had seen the creatures once before on a visit to the planet Tatooine. They looked like giant lizards, and they were as strong as a dozen gundarks.