Elfhome

27: ON TRACK

Tommy was starting to think he was wrong. With Spot tucked behind him on his hoverbike, he’d followed the railroad tracks out for mind-numbing hours. Beyond the Rim, the tracks were the only sign of civilization. They cut through a virgin forest of towering ironwood trees. On either side of the iron rails were spell lights to keep down the ambient level of magic that would otherwise snare and tangle on the metal. Beyond the graveled embankments, he could pick out wards on stone posts, to keep everything from black willows to rabbits from wandering onto the tracks. Still, every few miles there was a massive skeleton of a saurus that had managed to blunder into the path of the train anyhow. For the first time, the massive axe-like nose on the Elfhome engines made sense to Tommy.

There wasn’t, however, a single sign of the oni.

Hoverbikes had amazing gas mileage since half their power came from magic. He’d filled his tank and strapped on a extra can behind Spot, but he was nearing the point where he would have to turn around or not be able to get his hoverbike all the way back to Pittsburgh.

Spot beat on his shoulder and pointed behind them.

Tommy skidded to a stop and looked back, the hoverbike rumbling loudly in the forest silence. They were running alongside a shallow river, the train tracks cut into the shoulder of a hill above the flood plain.

“Here?”

Spot didn’t answer, but his nose was working, trying to catch whatever elusive scent had made him stop Tommy.

Tommy turned the hoverbike around and slowly made his way back toward Pittsburgh, eyeing the landscape closely. The oni had been careful, but years of use had left small, indelible marks on the landscape. He hadn’t noticed them at fifty miles per hour, but at a crawl he could pick them out. The rocky embankment was bare of vegetation all the way down to the river’s edge. On the far side of the shallow water, there was a break in the brush, too wide to be a deer trail.

Tommy pulled up against the cliff, just in case a train came through, and shut down his hoverbike to conserve gas. The forest quiet pressed in on them.

Spot swung down off the hoverbike and pressed nose to soil.

“Is it the same group?” Tommy checked his pistol to make sure it was loaded, not that a dozen shots would help much if they were jumped by an entire platoon.

On hands and knees, Spot crisscrossed the embankment sniffing and then nodded.

“Do they still have the elf female?”

Spot nodded again.

“Is the kitsune with them?”

Spot shook his head, making his long ears flap.

Good. Tommy wasn’t immune to her powers. “How recent?”

Spot held up both hands to measure out a long time. The oni must have driven straight to the station and boarded a train just as it left. The oni were hours in front of them.

Tommy didn’t bother to ask how many oni — Spot was still having trouble counting past five.

So he was right that the oni were using the train to travel far out of Pittsburgh in large numbers. Yay, him; out in the frigging nowhere with a pistol and an eight-year-old. Somehow this didn’t seem like a smart plan.

Tommy considered the river and the far bank. The brush screened the area beyond now, but the leaves were already turning color with the approaching autumn. It was only a matter of time before all the leaves came down, leaving the far bank exposed. The oni camp was probably miles south from the track so there was no chance of it being discovered by train work crews. Hopefully it was far enough out that no one had heard his engine. This was as far as he could go on his hoverbike, though, without bringing the oni down on his head.

He turned in a full circle, looking for a place to hide the big bike. Someplace where the oni wouldn’t see it or stumble over it or even find it easily if they were looking. There were niches in the cliff running alongside the tracks. He could pop up and land on one of the larger ledges.

Spot tried to scramble back up onto the hoverbike when Tommy restarted the bike.

“No, stay here. I’ll be back.”

Spot gave him big hurt puppy-dog eyes but backed off. Tommy took the bike around the bend of the hill until he found a likely ledge. He raced the engine and then, dropping all power to the lift chain, popped up onto the wide shelf. Shutting down the motor, he unflattened the brush that he crashed through until the bike was screened from a casual glance.

Spot wriggled with joy when he saw Tommy trotting back down the track toward him. His cheeks were wet with silent tears.

“I told you I’d be back.” Tommy patted the boy on the head as Spot hugged him tight. “I need you to be a big boy. No crying.”

Spot nodded, rubbing his face dry against Tommy’s shirt.

They had to go quietly and carefully. The band of oni had fanned out, taking various trails so that none would be too heavily traveled. After the second ridge, two miles south from the river, they rejoined on one well-worn path. Five miles farther south, another wide trail crossed it.

Half-oni or not, Spot was still just eight. He couldn’t hike all day. Tommy detoured to the nearest hilltop where he could keep an eye on the path. Spot curled up beside Tommy and tossed and turned exactly enough to get his head into Tommy’s lap before falling asleep.

Tommy sighed, shaking his head, but didn’t bother to push Spot off. The only affection that the boy was ever going to get was from his own family. As he got older, even that would be less and less often.

While Spot slept, Tommy considered the crossroads. Where did the east-west path lead? It seemed to be running parallel to the distant train track. Was it simply that the oni had multiple stops where they could get on and off the train? It would be comforting to think so, because it meant he wouldn’t be caught between two oni forces if they continued south. There was only one train in and one train out every day, and both had passed through this area hours ago. If the east-west path led to other camps, though, there could be oni coming and going all day and even into the night. He considered heading back to Pittsburgh, but what would he say? He’d found a path?

After twenty minutes of resting, he shook Spot awake and they continued south. Another ten miles and two longer breaks, and they came to a second crossroad. Dusk was falling and Spot was starting to stagger. He lifted his head, nose working.

Tommy crouched down beside Spot and sniffed. Wood smoke lightly scented the air. They were getting close. “Follow me.”

Spot nodded, eyes wide. He might not be able to count, but he understood the danger of tracking the oni.

Tommy veered off the well-beaten path on the valley floor to push through the thick laurel that covered the steep hillside. At points they had to scramble up rock walls. When they reached the hilltop, he motioned to Spot to keep belly down on the ground. Tommy moved forward in a crouch along the ridgeline until he came to a drop-off.

In the valley below was a massive ironwood fort and beyond it hundreds of tents. Thousands of oni moved through the dusk. He could make out hundreds of cages holding muzzled wargs. In the far south of the camp, there was a huge pen. Whatever was caged there roared, the noise echoing up the valley like distant thunder.

“Shit,” Tommy whispered.

Spot tapped his shoulder and pointed off to the west. There was a faint smoke haze between them and the setting sun. Another camp lay beyond the hill. The path heading west from the crossroad seemed to lead toward it. Judging by the smoke, the western camp was probably as big as the camp just to the south. Tommy turned and studied the eastern horizon. Darkness was already spreading over the land, and light from campfires in a third site gleamed off a haze of smoke.

There weren’t thousands of oni hidden in the forest — there were tens of thousands. And somewhere, down in the spreading darkness, was one female elf.