The Prince Who Fell From the Sky by John Claude Bemis Page B

me.”
    Casseomae stood up to peer through the window. The wolves were retreating. She felt her head swimming and said, “Have you poisoned us to keep the wolves from having the cub?”
    “It’s not so strong in here,” Dumpster said.
    “It’s strong enough to make my tongue feel like pine bark,” Pang complained.
    “Oh, shut it, cur,” he said. “The effects will pass. But I spilled it right on some of those idiot wolves. They’ll have a time getting that stink from their noses, not to mention trying to scratchin’ follow us now.”
    Casseomae heard the wolves call to one another, the sounds growing distant. The cub was burying his face in her fur. “We need to leave,” she said. “I heard the wolves say that the Ogeema was coming.”
    “What?” Pang snapped. “You must have heard wrong.”
    “I didn’t.”
    “This is Gnash’s realm,” Pang said. “The Ogeema might hold sway over other pack chiefs, but he’d never enter another pack’s territory.”
    Casseomae growled up at Dumpster peering through the window. “Can we go?”
    “All right, then.” He slipped through the broken glass.
    Casseomae pushed against the door and it creaked open. Pang dashed out first, and as soon as he stopped on the wing, he whined, “Blessed Companions, it’s worse out here!”
    “Just watch out you don’t step in it,” Dumpster said from the edge of the wing. “It’s mostly under the passering, so just get all the way down here before you hop off.”
    Casseomae’s snout burned as she came out. She couldn’t smell anything besides the awful poisons Dumpster had released. She listened for the wolves, hearing only distant howls.
    “Come on, cub,” she called back. “Stay close.”
    The child emerged from the doorway looking around warily. He poked his metal stick out at the dark Forest and made a
pop
with his lips.
    The four hurried from the passering without getting any of the smell on their paws, and after they had traveled a time, Casseomae felt her head clearing.
    “That was pretty clever,” she admitted to Dumpster.
    He leaped onto her forepaw and climbed up to settle at the back of her head. “Of course it was,” he said. “I’m a rat, after all.”

CHAPTER TWENTY
    C asseomae worried as they journeyed along a rolling stretch of the Forest the next morning. Could the Ogeema himself really be searching for the cub?
    Pang gauged their direction with the rising sun. When he stopped abruptly, Casseomae felt her legs tighten, ready for battle. The cub, paying more attention now to the reactions of the other three, knelt and pointed his metal stick out protectively.
    “What is it?” Casseomae said. “I don’t smell wolves.”
    “Not wolves,” Pang said, looking around. A long line of ruined buildings stretched in either direction along a narrow trail. Several of the buildings had tall colorful treelike billboards and signs of plastic and metal rising from the ground. “I recognize this place.”
    “Scratchin’ good for you,” Dumpster said. “Now can we keep moving?”
    Pang trotted over to Casseomae. “We’re getting near the Auspectres.”
    Casseomae looked around at the ruins. “The witches live here?”
    “No,” Pang said. “But we need something first.”
    “What’s that?” she asked.
    “We need to bring them a carcass,” Pang said.
    “Oh, I see how this works,” Dumpster said, leaping down from Casseomae. “Very clever. They convince voras to bring them their catch rather than having to search the Forest for it. Got to admire their knack for taking advantage of the gullible.”
    “It’s not for food,” Pang said. “They divine the future from the carcass.”
    “You’re saying they don’t eat it?” Dumpster asked.
    “Of course they do, but if we don’t bring them a carcass, they’ll have nothing to use to answer our question.”
    “Well, it won’t be a problem,” Casseomae said. “There are kills all over the Forest. I smell some rotting elk nearby at this