Daybreak by Ellen Connor Page A

slight smile and checked her own weapon. One day she wouldn’t need to carry one anymore. One day. On a day of peace.
    But that seemed far off.
    With a nod toward her animal guardian, she crested the dune. It took no more than a minute to pull within human eyesight of the unknown trio. Tru prowled between her and Adrian, then set off at a casual lope to circle around from the other direction. Not so far that he’d be out of leaping distance. But far enough that the man with the rifle would need to split his attention between human and beast.
    The darker woman spotted them first. She locked eyes with Pen, and again that fissure of recognition threatened to unnerve Pen’s concentration. Tall and slender, but with a nicely athletic build, this woman did not look like the malnourished sex slaves Pen had often aided. She held herself with a warrior’s confidence, larger than life in the way Jenna had been to Pen’s nine-year-old eyes. High, wide cheekbones offset her dark and inquisitive stare.
    The act of lowering his rifle brought the man back into focus. Pen blinked and hefted her own weapon. “Don’t move,” she said.
    A quick glance to her right showed that Adrian, too, had the man in his sights. His hands didn’t tremble as he kept the rifle level. Look what Tru has accomplished.
    In just three days. What could a boy like Adrian learn with a lifetime of such guidance?
    But Pen shunted that impossible thought away as quickly as it appeared.
    “No one wants a bloodbath.” She tipped her head to the man’s right. “And he’s one of us.”
    The man didn’t look at Tru, but the two women did. The shorter blonde one, who on closer inspection appeared too small to be fully grown, watched the lion lazily circling their position.
    Gaze still steady on Pen, the other woman raised her hand and laid it slowly, carefully, on the barrel of her companion’s weapon. “Put it down, my friend. Nothing to fear here.”
    Pen didn’t exactly agree. Adrian could panic, or Tru could twitch his tail the wrong way. Fear was everywhere in their little circle—everywhere but in that woman’s impossibly dark eyes.
    “We’re heading north,” Pen said. “Not looking for trouble, don’t want any following us either.”
    “Neither do we. Perhaps we can make introductions?”
    Something about the woman’s voice was hypnotic, as if she’d worked for years to find the perfect soothing pitch. That might have been her magic, but Pen didn’t believe it. She was capable of more. The only question was whether that something else constituted a danger.
    Pen inhaled past a bubble of panic. She wasn’t a leader. She didn’t have the control for it—her magic was too unreliable. Adrian . . . Tru . . . They depended on her to make the right decision.
    But this moment had nothing to do with magic. Just people. Just a judgment call that could mean their lives.
    “My name’s Pen. This is Adrian and the lion is Tru. We’re heading north to a camp. Maybe you know something about it.”
    “Arturi Mäkinen’s camp.”
    Pen blinked. “That’s right.”
    The woman offered a brilliant white smile that contrasted with her complexion. “Good. You’re just the people we were coming to see. This is Jack, Shine, and I’m Zhara. Arturi Mäkinen is my husband. And you, Penelope—I’ve been expecting you.”

TWELVE
     
    Tru shifted to back to human.
    In lion form, while he retained memories, he wasn’t exactly himself. He lacked the ability to make logical decisions. Needs became simpler and more primal. This situation called for human sophistication. So at Pen’s cue, he responded. She and Adrian stood at an impasse with the three newcomers, while he quickly dressed. He didn’t think the confrontation would come to bloodshed. These people wanted something from the Orchid.
    Big surprise. Everyone seemed to.
    “Better?” the tall woman asked.
    Tru smiled lazily. “It is for you.”
    Zhara turned to Pen. “Arturi bade me go and guide