“I’m not trespassing on purpose. I was hiking and got lost.”
He twirled the flashlight.
“And what are you talking about with lions? There aren’t any lions around here. This isn’t Africa.”
His eyes narrowed.
“My mom’s probably worried I haven’t called her. Just help me out so I can go back to my car.”
The light settled on me. “There isn’t a road for miles.”
“I got separated from my camp.”
He turned around and sat down so all I could see was his back.
“Please!” I cried. “Help me out.”
The man shined the light on the trees above. “When you tell me the truth, I’ll let you out. But if you continue the charade, you’ll be in there for a long time.”
“You’re really scaring me!”
He looked over his shoulder at me. “You try my patience. Admit you’re not human.”
I folded my arms. “Fine. What gave it away?”
He got up and circled around. “Your shoes aren’t practical for walking in these woods. And I haven’t seen a gimlet in many years.”
“A what?”
He shined the light on my dagger. “It’s very small, and you have another on your belt. Why would a hiker need such weapons?”
I kicked at the wall. Who did this guy think he was?
When I heard a chain rattle, I staggered to the center and looked up. The man had moved out of sight, and I listened anxiously to a metallic tapping sound, like a hammer hitting a spike. Moments later, a chain ladder rolled into the hole. Not all the way down, but low enough for me to grab. I put on my backpack and reached for it.
“Hold on tight,” he said, pulling me up with impossible strength.
I tried to use my feet, but there was no footing. Once out, I crawled past where he’d spiked the ladder into the ground.
“Do you normally carry that around with you?”
He crouched in front of me. “When I check my traps, I do. How else would I get out?”
I lifted the flashlight and shined it on his face. He didn’t just have light eyes; they were yellow. His tattered clothes were layered, the long sleeveless coat made from real animal fur of different colors. When he stared at me, he really stared at me. My hair stood on end, and I knew right away he was a Chitah.
“Is my dark hair unsettling?” he asked.
“No more than the Overlord’s.”
His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“You’re a Chitah, right?”
He dipped his chin.
“Then you know the Overlord.”
“No leader would have dark hair like mine. It would be an abomination.”
