Chapter 11: Dusk Raiders

I did not have much time and I did not waste it.

I ran down the cliff path to Hesper's den, snatched Tuck out of his nest and carried him back home, breathless, his sleepy head on my shoulder.

"Why are we running?" he mumbled.

"Because we're going to have a surprise for some visitors."

His eyes opened, bright.

"Visitors? Do they have presents?"

"They have rude manners," I said. "So we'll teach them."

Hesper arrived at the door, red-faced, a cleaver in one hand and a rolling pin in the other.

"Five of them," she said, panting. "I counted from the ridge. They'll be at the lane in a quarter hour."

"Can you hold the door?"

"I held it against a rogue bear in my youth."

"Good. Tuck, you're with Hesper."

I stripped the hearth and put every pot I owned on the fire.

Water in the big kettle, water in the stewpot, oil in the pan.

I found Ila's jar of hot pepper, the red dust, on the high shelf, and opened it, and tipped it into the pot of water.

Hesper watched me, her eyebrows climbing.

"It's rude," I said. "But it works."

At the camp, the cooks had a rule about hot oil and boiling water.

The rule was that you never carried either through a crowd.

I intended to break it.

The boots came up the lane.

I heard them stop outside.

Five shadows crossed the shutters.

"Ila Marrow," called a voice. "In the name of the clan, open and surrender the cub."

I said nothing.

"Open, or we break the door."

"Try it," I called back, and my voice was steady, and I was proud of it.

They kicked the door.

It held, and then it cracked, and then the top hinge screamed and tore free.

A hunter's shoulder came through the gap, and then a face.

I threw the first pot.

It was the pepper water, steaming.

Keep reading free with an account. Start My Panther Mate & Our Little Cub from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.