Page 27 of Caveman Alien's Terror

“That’s appropriate,” I growl. “This is serious. This is aboutgold. Just tell me what you know aboutthatgold.”

She visibly swallows. “I’m not sure if it was gold. I think she wore a thin bracelet. It was years ago. She left the tunnel, and nobody’s seen her since.”

“You said you’d never seen gold in the jungle,” I point out.

“I was scared. I didn’t remember. And I’m not sure it’s gold.”

“Where did she go?”

“I don’t know.”

“So her gold could be anywhere in the jungle?”

“There is a rumor…” she begins, then stops.

I reach out and place a claw under her chin to make her look up. “Go on,” I command between clenched teeth.

Her eyes widen. “It’s just a rumor. There’s probably nothing to it.”

I smile warmly and apply more pressure to the claw, making her wince. “If you don’t get to the point right now, I will tickle you with this, right here.Deep.”

“Some of the cavemen say that there’s a woman in one of the tribes,” Astrid rattles off. “A woman we don’t know of. I don’t know which one. There is a small chance that it’s Cora.”

I suspect that she’s not being entirely truthful. But it’s hard to tell when she’s this scared. “How many tribes are there in the jungle?”

“I only know of four or five,” she says. “But it’s not one of those.”

“Tarat’ex!” I bellow. “Come here!”

The outcast pauses his fruitless search of the camp and runs over. “Yes, Chief?”

“Which is the tribe that is rumored to have a woman?”

“A woman? We know the Borok and Tretter have women. And now, the Krast have one, too. Those are not just rumors, Chief. They were seen. I myself saw the one called Alba. This one here belongs to the Borok tribe.” He glares at Astrid, and I notice his eyes snagging on her chest and hips. It angers me.

I take a step to put myself between him and her. “Do not concern yourself with her,” I warn him. “The rumor was obviously not about Astrid.”

Astrid shrugs. “I said there was probably nothing in it.”

Tarat’ex looks at his two co-outcasts. “There was that rumor about the Ceremat tribe, of course.”

“Go on,” I command.

“There’s not much, Chief. The little boys of the Krast tribe said that the Ceremat tribe have found The Woman, the one from the prophecy. But it’s common for boys to make up such fantasies. I did it myself at that age.”

“Where is the Ceremat tribe?” I ask, getting exasperated about all this talk that goes nowhere.

“I’ve never been there, Chief,” Tarat’ex admits. “I think their turf comes up against the Krast turf. I don’t know on which side. Gulu’oz! Cret’ax! Where is the Ceremat tribe?”

But the two other outcasts also don’t know.

“So someone who may not exist might live with a tribe that nobody knows the location of,” I sum up. “And which may well also not exist. This is remarkably helpful.” I want to continue my rage, but I don’t have the energy. Curse this decrepit form!

“Sorry, Chief. We can find out, if you wish.”

I pick a stone up from the ground and consider throwing it at the lackey’s face. Instead I furiously start carving it from sheer gold hunger.

“It will be all right,” Astrid says, trying to soothe me. “We’ll find gold if there is any.”

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