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trapped
    near the ground. A large cook fire burned in the central area. Many people scurried
    about either helping with breakfast or eating it. Tents fanned from the area, extending
    out until they reached the edge of the plateau.

    Squinting in the sunlight, I looked beyond the encampment’s border. Just the
    tops of the trees in the Illiais Jungle were visible. They reminded me of a time when I
    had stood on a platform built near the peak of the tallest tree in the jungle and had
    seen the flat expanse of the plateau for the first time. The sheer rock drop-off into
    the jungle had appeared to be an impossible climb. So why set up camp there? I
    wondered.
    Moon Man leaned next to me. “The camp is an illusion.”
    “Do you have enough warriors to attack?” I asked, thinking the illusion hid many
    more Vermin.
    “Every one.”
    “All—” The Sandseeds yelled a battle cry and dashed toward the camp.
    Moon Man grabbed my arm, pulling me with him. “Stay with me.”
    With Leif and Marrok right behind us, we followed the Sandseeds. When the first
    warriors crossed into the illusion, they disappeared from sight for a moment. The
    sound of rushing water reached my ears as the chimera dissipated.
    I blinked a few times to adjust my vision to what the Daviians had concealed. The
    central fire remained the same. But instead of many Vermin around the flames, there
    stood only one man. The rest of the camp was empty.

4
    WHEN THE ILLUSION disappeared, so did the expanse of tents and all the
    Daviians. The lone man standing by the fire collapsed before the Sandseed warriors
    could reach him.
    Evidence that a large army had camped here was imprinted on the ground.
    Although, by the time the Sandseed leaders restored order to the milling warriors,
    many of the Daviian tracks had been ruined.
    And the only witness had taken poison.
    “One of their Warpers,” Moon Man said, nudging the corpse with his bare foot.
    “He held the illusion and killed himself once it broke.”
    “If you can clear the area, I might be able to tell you where they’ve gone,”
    Marrok said.
    The Sandseed warriors returned to the copse of spine trees. Moon Man and I
    stayed by the fire as Marrok and Leif circled the camp. Marrok looked for physical
    evidence while Leif used his magic to smell the intentions of the Daviians.
    I projected my mental awareness as far as I could. If I sought a specific person,
    then I could reach them from far away, but with a general search my magic could
    only extend about ten miles. I reached no one in the plateau, and the bounty of life in
    the jungle was too overwhelming to sort out.
    When they had finished their circuit, Marrok and Leif returned. Their glum
    expressions reflected bad news.
    “They’ve been gone for days. The majority of the tracks head east and west,”
    Marrok reported. “But I found some metal spikes with rope fibers in the ground near
    the edge of the plateau. A few Vermin could have climbed down into the jungle.”
    I touched Leif’s arm. “The Zaltanas?”
    “If the Vermin can even find our homestead among the trees, they’re still well
    protected,” he said.
    “Even from one of the Warpers?” I asked.
    Leif blanched.
    “Are the ropes still there?” I asked Marrok.
    “No. The others must have waited and either cut the rope or taken it along with
    them,” Marrok said.
    “Do you know how many went down?” Moon Man asked.
    “No.”
    Leif said, “There were so many scents and emotions mixed together. The need
    for stealth and urgency predominated. They moved with a purpose and felt
    confident. The eastern group, though, had the most men and they…” Leif closed his
    eyes and sniffed the breeze. “I don’t know. I need to follow their trail for a while.”
    Marrok led Leif to the eastern tracks. I asked Kiki and the other horses to come
    to us. While waiting for them, Moon Man and the other Story Weavers split the
    warriors into two groups, and sent two scouts, one to the west and