Venya turned slowly toward the sound but saw nothing.
She tilted her head to listen better and closed her eyes.
She heard only the faint hiss of wind through the treetops.
She took a few steps and nearly jumped out of her skin when a bird burst from the undergrowth beside her.
Drawing a deep breath, she picked up the spatula she had dropped.
It was covered in tiny leaves and twigs.
“I’m getting paranoid.” Venya chuckled to herself.
She set the saucer down, crouched beside it, and began cleaning the spatula.
Then it came again.
A rustle, followed by labored, ragged breathing.
The breathing stopped so abruptly that Venya stopped breathing too.
She set the spatula on the saucer, then slowly pulled the knife from her apron pocket and flipped the blade open.
When the breathing started again, she turned toward the sound.
Knife in hand, she moved silently in that direction, keeping her body low.
Someone was in trouble, and against her better judgment, Venya kept moving.
She found a large lynx lying at the bottom of the hollow, staring up at her with glassy eyes.
The hollow wasn’t deep, but its rim was high enough to hide the lynx from view.
It was wide, with low shrubs bearing sparse white blossoms along its edges.
The damp moss at the bottom looked greener than elsewhere in the forest, dotted here and there with small rings of slender-stemmed, yellow-brown mushrooms.
Maybe moisture collected there.
Venya couldn’t see or hear the animal breathing.
At first, she thought it was dead, but then its eyelids fluttered shut and it let out a groan.
It curled its lips back, baring its teeth at her in a weak warning.
Instinctively she took a step back and raised the knife, ready to defend herself.
But the animal sagged and lowered its head to the ground.
Venya crept a little closer, keeping her body angled sideways to the lynx.
That way, she could spring away if it attacked.
The lynx lay in the hollow, curled up in an unnatural position.
The gray streak ran across its face.
It was the lynx she had fled from two days earlier.
Was it a coincidence, or had it followed her here?
Venya stayed still for a moment, considering whether she should back away as carefully as she had approached.
Just as she was about to move, the lynx let out a low groan and fixed its gaze on her.
It almost sounded like a plea, and maybe it was.
The animal had recognized her.
Venya was almost certain of it.
It tried to push itself up, but its legs gave out beneath it.
A faint yelp escaped from between its sharp teeth.
Venya slowly lowered the knife, though she didn’t put it away.
She couldn’t bring herself to just leave it, and she prayed it wasn’t the type to hold a grudge about the smack she’d given it across the muzzle.
She had hit it instinctively.
Then again, the scratches on her thigh were inflamed and oozing pus, so maybe she and the lynx were even.
The lynx shifted with a shudder of pain, revealing something beneath its side.
Venya drew back in surprise when she saw a tiny lynx cub pressed against its mother’s belly.
It had been hidden so well beneath her that Venya hadn’t noticed it before.
The mother turned her head toward her cub.
Venya could have sworn the mother’s gaze softened as she looked at the cub.
The cub lay completely still.
Was it alive?
Venya didn’t want to move too close and set the mother off.
Then one tiny ear twitched, and Venya heard a faint, squeaking breath.
She exhaled in relief.
Her hand automatically went to where her jeans pocket should have been, searching for a phone that wasn’t there.
It was as if she had stepped into nothingness.
She just stood there like an idiot, her empty hand slowly curling into a fist at her side.
Her nails dug into her palm, the sharp pain snapping her out of it.
There was no one to call for help.
She had wanted to call wildlife rescue to take over the situation, but now she would have to face it alone.
Nothing but her wits.
Absurdly, it reminded her of her job as a project manager.
At work, she was ultimately responsible for everything, including tasks assigned to team members who just happened to be conveniently unreachable.
Venya hesitated.
Injured or not, the lynx could still tear her apart in a second.
Then she nodded to herself.
She folded the blade closed and tucked the knife back into her apron pocket.
She carefully made her way down the slope into the hollow and edged toward the pair.
As she crouched down beside them, she placed one hand flat on the cool ground to show the mother she wasn’t reaching for the cub.
A cluster of sharp-edged black stones lay beside the lynx.
Their jagged edges looked like crude knives.
Tiny flecks of blood marked them, and a few strands of tawny fur clung to their rough surfaces.
This close, she could see blood seeping from the ugly wound in the mother’s belly.
The air smelled faintly metallic.
The cut was too clean and straight to have been made by a fall onto the stones.
Venya looked past them and saw a trail of blood leading through the forest.
The mother must have dragged herself here from somewhere deeper in the woods.
Someone had sliced the mother’s belly open with a blade.
She wondered if the cub was injured too.
She glanced over her shoulder and listened.
Nothing moved among the trees.
Whoever had done this was probably long gone, but the thought did little to ease her nerves.
Venya turned her attention back to the wound.
The only medicine she had was the resin she had just collected.
It was useless for a wound this severe.
She didn’t have the tools to stitch it up.
Or the skills.
She was a techie, not a vet or a nurse.
Damn it.
The lynx shifted, and a weak growl rumbled in her throat.
The wound gaped wider, revealing the slick curve of intestine beneath the torn flesh.
Venya’s stomach turned.
How had she managed to drag herself this far with an injury that severe?
Maybe it hadn’t been that bad at first.
The effort of reaching the hollow must have torn the wound open further.
There was no way she could patch that up.
None.
The mother was as good as gone.
She had no idea how she would keep the cub alive, but she already knew she couldn’t leave it to die.
She would have to ask the kids whether there was somewhere safe to take it.
Then the mother nudged Venya’s hand gently with her cold, wet nose.
Maybe she just wanted comfort.
Venya lifted her right hand to stroke her, then remembered her sticky fingers and quickly switched to her left.
The lynx’s mottled tawny-and-gray fur felt surprisingly soft and warm beneath her palm.
“I’m sorry I hit you.
I won’t do it again.
It was an accident,” she said, trying to keep her voice as gentle as she could.
The lynx didn’t understand the words, but that didn’t matter.
Surely she understood Venya’s tone.
The mother was clearly in pain, but her breathing eased a little as Venya kept stroking her.
Venya hated this.
Hated that she couldn’t do anything.
The mother’s gaze moved from Venya to the cub and stayed there.
The cub stirred, managed to lift its head, and gave its mother’s muzzle a weak lick.
The mother looked back at Venya.
Oh, hell, Venya knew exactly what she wanted.
“I’ll raise the little one myself,” she heard herself promise.
She tried to keep her movements slow and her voice calm, but her mind raced.
Keep the cub?
How would it even work?
She could barely take care of herself.
She didn’t have enough food.
Didn’t it need its mother’s milk?
She couldn’t do it.
Didn’t lynxes eat an obscene amount of raw meat?
She was not a hunter.
She was not a lynx mom.
Maybe the cub would reject her, and she’d fail before she’d even begun.
“I’ll take it with me.
I promise.” Venya swallowed and kept her hand steady on the mother’s fur.
The lynx’s body relaxed slightly beneath her palm.
Maybe the lynx trusted her.
Or maybe Venya just needed to believe she did.
Either way, she had made the promise, and she would do everything she could to keep it.
The lynx lifted her muzzle and let out a long, ragged cry.
Venya blinked.
For an instant, the gray streak across the lynx’s face seemed to shine.
Then the lynx’s head dropped and her body went still.
A flash of silvery light burst from her body.
Something cold surged through Venya’s hand and into her chest.
The force flung Venya away, and she landed flat on her back.
The world tilted beneath her.
Then she blacked out.
Support your favorite author(s).