The night sky was overcast, but there was enough moonlight behind it to give light to the Front Range, where Shaniah rode Demeter, trailing along with Hollister’s train. It was heading north, not into the mountains, and thus her horse had little trouble following it. Of course the stallion would not be able to keep up such a pace forever. But she had captured Hollister’s scent and she thought she would have no trouble tracking him.
He intrigued her even more, now that she had faced him in the open. To Archaics, humans were no more than enemies or prey. Viewed the same way a human might view a bear or elk. It had been hundreds of years since she had had close contact with a human in an adversarial way, and she couldn’t say why quite yet, but Hollister was different.
She thought most humans, especially males, were ugly. Hollister was not. His face was full of lines and angles, sharply cut, and his eyes were dark. Had she been so inclined, Shaniah would have said they were mysterious, yet that was not exactly right. There were a host of things at play there, not just mystery, but intelligence, integrity, and maybe mischief.
Although she was certain the man-witch with Hollister knew what she was, Hollister had shown no fear of her. Chee had wanted to kill her without hesitation; she could read it on his face. But Hollister had resisted. He had spoken to her. Tried to draw her in.
She remembered him on the plains four years ago. He had fought so desperately to save his men.
Now as she pursued the train, she wondered what Hollister had discovered and what course he was taking. She knew he was going to find Malachi. Of that, she was sure.