He crouched beside me, his shoulder brushing mine as he examined the marks. “Good eye. They’re heading northeast, toward the clearing where the luminooks gather in the evening to hum.”
A rustle in the bushes behind us made us both turn. A woman in her thirties with short dark hair strode toward us, carrying camera equipment and wearing the kind of hiking boots and a khaki shirt and pants that had seen serious trail time.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said, slightly breathless. She pushed a few strands of her dark brown hair off her face. “I’m Ava Mayfair, traveling photographer and blogger. I was documenting the luminook colony when I heard about the missing child. I know this area well. I’ve been photographing here for over a week. Mind if I help with the search?”
Dungar glanced at me.
I nodded. “Glad for the help. I’m Riley and this is Dungar. Any chance you’ve seen someone’s tracks in the area?”
Ava’s expression brightened. “Maybe? About thirty minutes ago, I saw someone moving through the trees over there.” She pointed to the northern part of the plain. “I thought they were out for a hike like me.”
It could be Marcy; or it might not be her at all, but we’d check it out.
We continued walking together.
Soft humming drifted through the twilight air as we approached the feeding ground, a melodic sound that made my heart leap with hope.
“Marcy?” I called out.
The humming stopped.
We rounded a cluster of boulders and found a littlegirl in a small clearing, sitting cross-legged in the grass with a baby luminook curled in her lap. Both child and creature looked up at us.
“Oh my,” Ava whispered, already raising her camera. “This is magical.”
The baby luminook’s spines pulsed with blue light, casting an ethereal glow across Marcy’s dirt-smudged face.
“Are you Marcy?” I asked, approaching her slowly.
“I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”
“Your mom is looking for you,” I said. “We joined the search. I’m Deputy Smith, and this is Sheriff Dungar.”
The little girl looked between us, frowning at the photographer. “Mommy said it’s okay for me to talk to the police. Are you the police?”
I crouched down beside her. “We are.”
Marcy smiled and stroked the luminook’s tiny head. “I was singing to him. He likes it when I sing.”
“Would it be alright if I took some pictures for your family?” Ava asked. “This is such a beautiful moment. They’d love to have these memories.”
“I’m sure that will be alright,” Dungar said. “Just clear it with her mother once we’re back in town.” He lifted his radio and notified everyone that we’d found Marcy safe.
While Ava moved around us, taking photos from every angle, I sat on the ground beside Marcy. “Your mother is very worried about you.”
Dungar notified all the teams that we’d found Marcy and cheers rang out from those still searching. Afterputting his radio away, he stooped down in front of the little girl. “I see you’ve found one of our special luminooks.”
“He was outside the pen behind the barn,” Marcy said. “Too far from the others. I saw lights and I followed him here.” She gestured to the area in general. “But I can’t find any of the lum-a-ooks to bring him home.”
The wild ones had probably scattered when they saw her coming.
“His mama is probably looking for him back in town, just like your mama is looking for you. Can you tell me how you got here? Did you follow the path with the purple grass?”
She nodded. “I saw him from the fence. He was glowing and he looked sad.”
“That was very kind of you to want to help him.” Dungar held out his hands. “But baby luminooks need to be with their families, just like little girls do. May I take him?”
Marcy carefully lifted the luminook and placed it in Dungar’s hands. There was something sweet about a big burly orc cradling a delicate, glowing creature with such tenderness.
