Do you see him?” My eyelids flutter, but I do not open them. We marched hard all day. At dark, Gannajero gave us each a single cornmeal biscuit filled with walnuts, the first freshly cooked food we’ve had, and I was so grateful I gobbled mine down. Right after I brushed the crumbs from my hands and left them in a pile for the birds and mice, I fell asleep. “See what, Tutelo?” She is being very still, as though trying not to attract the attention of a predator that stands nearby. Her innocent young face with its large eyes and small nose are framed by straight black hair. “Out there, by the fire cherries.” I turn my head to look. There is a big grove of fire cherries twenty paces away. The branches have lost all of their leaves, and in the starlight they look like nothing more than spiky undergrowth. Fog moves along the ground and twines in the canopies of the trees. I don’t see anything unusual. Our guards stand ten paces away. The man I call Ugly because of the enormous scar that slashes his face leans against a tree and yawns.
