Shadow's Son by Shirley Meier, S.M. Stirling and Karen Wehrstein ...

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almost couldn't lift herself from the ground, retching. Her claws caught in something; he flinched back. "
Yaaaiiiigh! Demon!" And ran, thank Koru… She set her teeth, staggered to her feet and back behind
the tent just as someone with a lit torch ran around the corner.
Shit, I'm leaving a blood-trail—his, thank Koru. She wrapped her hands around her head, trying to
control the pain as she ran, dived behind a log that someone had thoughtfully left by a fire-pit. The alarm
was spreading out, fighting with the panic left by her spell. More torches flared alight.They'll cover this
ground like starving pigs rooting for truffles. They catch me, I'm raped and smothered as a demon
before their army … She held down her gorge through sheer will. An officer, properly armored, pulled
to a halt near her, with squires and bowmen.Shit, more light . Her strength was too spent to hide using
manrauq .
"Namas, call your men to order!" TheAitzas spoke calmly. "Infiltrators in the camp will be apprehended.
Demons, too; we have the Gods with us. Spread out and overlap with Laranas's and Simalanas's men on
either side,jump!"
As they re-lit one torch doused by the wind, Megan used the shadow to crawl back to the edge of the
infirmary tent. Her head was pounding as if her brain had turned into a giant heart, and she kept having to
fight not to throw up. She eased one of the pegs out of the ground. Floor was sewn to the walls and
enough slack… she crept underneath, the weight of the musty canvas pressing her into the dirt like a hand
covering her whole body, cutting off most of the noise of the search. The smell of moist dirt filled her
nose. She lifted the canvas just a hair-thin crack to peek out.
The corridors between the tents were crawling with searching Arkans, combing the ground, kicking
barrels, driving spears through bushes.No trouble. They aren't going to think anyone could fit under
here . All she had to do was wait them out.And at least I'm lying down . She pressed her eyes shut,
forced relaxation, wished this was an Alliance infirmary.
A dog barking.Koru, no . It got closer and more distressed, half whining, paws scratched the earth a
hand-span from her face. Just a camp hound, finding something its senses knew was wrong.Only a
matter of time , she thought dully,before someone hears, wonders, and checks… I'm so tired I can't
even hear the son-of-a-bitch's thoughts … "Go lie down!" she hissed in Arkan, hoping that would send
it away, but though it stopped barking it stayed. It sat down, still pawing at the dirt.
She inched along, worming her way through hoping nothing heavy was…shit . It was either a folding
table or a patient. At the motion of the floor he—a patient,fish-guts —shifted and groaned. She scanned,
squirmed out into a too-small patch of shadow.
There was an Arkan at one corner with a light. The dog came at her, growling. She mustered all her
strength, thought at it.Skunk ! It fled yipping.
The Arkan turned, at a sound like something with claws scrambling up the ash-tree. He saw the dog
running with its tail between its legs. He called without leaving his post. One of the commander's bowmen
answered. "What?"
"Something climbing, sir. Might have been a racoon… but it sounded too big."
"Raise the light a bit."
"Begging forgiveness, sir, I'm at full stretch now."