Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 413
spilled open. "Damn," she said meekly. Then she grinned
crookedly at him. "Made it!"
Calandria pushed herself onto her elbows. "Steath
gauze," she croaked. "Where’zit?"
Axel grabbed the golden filigree she had been trying to
unwind earlier. He pushed himself to his knees and flipped it
open, letting it drape over all three of them, as Marya hauled
the survival bag in under it.
The creature that had built itself behind Marya turned and
looked in their direction. Axel forgot to breathe. He felt the
other two freeze too, ancient instinct kicking in to save them
from a superior predator. Slowly, deliberately, the thing
stalked toward them.
"Oh, shit." Axel fingered the laser pistol. It felt hot
under his hand; he wondered if it was shorting out too. It
looked like he would find out in a second, when he had to use
it.
The thing’s head snapped to the left. It paused, chin up
as though sniffing the air. Then it stepped over a log and
headed away. The gauze had worked.
Axel blew out his held breath. Of course the stealth
gauze worked--it was designed to fool the senses of the Winds.
At times like this, though, he found it hard to remember that
the technology of the Winds, including the swans, was a
thousand years older than his own.
Old, maybe. But not primitive. He sucked in a new
breath, and tried to will his racing heart to slow.
Soon six humanoid forms walked the clearing.
Everything they touched caught fire. They tossed downed trees
aside, and sent beams of coherent light into the treetops,
hunting high and low, but never noticing the three small forms
huddled right on the edge of the clearing.