Amy awakened to the sound of a clap. The sun was breaking over the far ridge of the Himalayas. Everyone else slept or, at least, she didn’t know what else Conomorg and Ita-Mudak were doing. They sat motionless, looking very much like large stone statues, completely out of place in the wild, high steppes of west-central Nepal. All except Anja, who was tearing around their campsite in a crazy rush, her nose to the ground. She had a wild look in her eyes.
“Anja!” Amy whispered, with as much authority as she could muster with a whisper. “Anja! Come!”
But Anja didn’t stop. She didn’t slow. Madly, she tore back and forth, with only the sound of her feet kicking loose grit and stone. Her ears were flat back against her head, which was angled upwards. Her eyes were wide.
What has gotten into her? The last time she had that look in her eyes was—Amy caught her breath the instant the thought crossed her mind—when the hybrid stepped into our house!
“Where’s Danielle?” Amy screamed. “Where’s Danielle?”
Within minutes, the entire area had been thoroughly searched. No sign of Danielle was found.
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