“Kinri. Do you smell that? I smell blood.”
I flicked my tongue and whirled its forks. After a beat it was pressed against the roof of my mouth, and I only smelled the evil sulfur of the Berwem. I ignored it and grasped for the tastes at the fringes. Grape and chamomile? No. Boily crab meat? No. Faint sweat and blood blowing in from the distance — there it is.
What had happened? The lake was stingy with life. And for what it did allow, none were mammals. Was it something wandered and lost in the lake? Had it come here on purpose? Why here, and what did it want? Was it dead? Had something attacked it? But why —
“Follow me.” Hinte’s voice stole into my fluttering mess of questions. The command to do something felt so simple, so commonsense, almost not worth giving. But it worked.
Then I waved my tongue.
“Hinte?” I saw her turn back to me, fangs bared. “Are we going toward the blood? It might be — it’s dangerous. We should head back to town and —”