Roxanne took the other porters to see the crystals, while the three who'd just come back from there gathered their groups to return to the new spots. Merryl opted to go to Beyond The Marsh with Ariel, making several trips to take most of my regular group with her.

I turned to Liam and the other croc hunters—half of whom had come from other groups—who were watching me like eager hounds. "Ready to go? I can take eight and the cart to the sandbar first, just so you have some high ground to retreat to. Then I'll come back for the last twelve and make a detour to grab those weapons. By the way, if anyone gets bitten by a croc, you have to explain it to Grant, not me."

"I heard that." Grant's voice floated across the milling crowd of people behind me.

Most grinned in amusement. Eight separated themselves from the group and pushed the cart closer.

"Do you want us on the cart or hanging onto it?" Liam asked.

"You might as well jump in."

Within two heartbeats, eight men and women were in the cart. Several picked up wooden spears in case a croc was near the crystal.

With one hand on the cart and one on the crystal, I murmured, "Jungle Sandbar."

The air hazed around us, and the cart's weight didn't bother me as I dragged it with me. We blinked in the morning light as our view cleared. It was early enough that the crocodiles had only just started coming out of the water.

"If you stay up there, I'll head back for the others. Try to keep the crocs away from the crystal if you can."

They nodded or murmured in agreement, already turning their attention to the crocodiles while debating which ones were in the best positions for the hunt. I silently ported back home.

"Rest for five minutes," Grant advised me. "As excited as you are, I know you'll port straight from the Guard Station without a proper break."

I grinned at him, unable to even try convincing him that he was wrong. We both knew the truth, especially now that bouncing a twelve-group was a feasible endeavor for me.

"We'll make sure she rests between ports," a younger hunter reassured Grant.

I burst out laughing, as did a few of my regular hunters. Grant tried to turn his laugh into a cough without much success. The lad looked around in bafflement.

Eventually, Grant got himself under control. "If you can manage that, then you're more skilled than I am. Much like the dogs chasing rabbits, she'll work until she drops."

Cruz sent an amused look my way as he informed our latest recruit, "If she's very nice to us, she'll sit in the cart. But more likely than not, she'll keep trying to help us butcher, and we'll end up convincing her to carry small loads to the cart to keep her out of mischief."

"Shush, or I'm making you walk there," I grumbled in good humor, pointedly looking away from the hunter.

I didn't even have to see him to know he'd be grinning, as would the hunters I usually worked with. How long did I have to stay here? Oh yeah, five minutes. Which was about four minutes and thirty seconds too long with this group revealing exactly how well they knew me.

Their chattering about the hunt soon had me rejoining the discussion, although they immediately nominated me for the role of lookout in case a croc decided to sneak up behind them from the other side of the sandbar.

"Let's go before the others think I got lost," I said as I headed for the crystal. The twelve hunters immediately converged around me. As soon as they were holding onto me or each other, I said, "Guard Station."

The guards gawked at the large group as three ran to retrieve the spears and rope from our storage spot. Even though we wanted to take the axes, Jayce's group planned to chop firewood with them today.

"Best of luck," Weylan commented from his rocking chair.

"Thanks!" As soon as the hunters were back in the group and firmly anchored, I turned my mind to our ultimate destination. "Let's see if these things have trackers. Jungle Sandbar."

I was so excited that I barely noticed how much energy the heavy port took. The air hazed around us, then cleared, although I had to wait for the hunters to spread out before I could see past the wall of bodies.

The sun had risen slightly higher, coaxing dozens of crocodiles onto the shore to warm up. I frowned at the huge beasts. There were far too many for my peace of mind, and I clambered onto the cart for a higher vantage point. The hunters from the first group quickly joined their friends on the ground and began pointing to various crocs along the shore.

Cruz looked up at me. "All jokes aside, do you mind staying up there? At least until we drag a croc over?"

I gestured to the dozens of crocs. "I have no desire to be bait. There are way too many hungry mouths around, and these guys have a bad habit of charging across the sand."

"We're going to chase off most of them to reduce the danger," Liam reassured me.

I stood on the cart and kept an eye on the crocodiles as the hunters picked their weapons and readied our three coils of rope. The men and women spread out and began poking the crocs with spears to drive them into the water, skipping back if the giant beasts spun around with an open mouth and growling hiss.

Some crocs took a few pokes before they decided we were too annoying and slid into the water. A few stubborn ones were left where they were. Little by little, the hunters cleared most of the shore.

Three hunters poked a rather large croc with the end of their spears. It kept swinging around with an aggravated hiss and occasionally snapped at the spears. Water splashed as a second croc lunged out, making two hunters skip back even though they had been well out of its reach. More hunters went to help drive the fearless aquatic predators into the river. Eventually, only a handful were left on the shore, most of which were at the far ends.

Cruz wiped his forehead and leaned on his spear. "Whew. That took more effort than I expected, and we've only done the prep work. Which croc should we tackle first?"

"That one is the closest," another hunter replied, nodding at the croc twenty paces from us.

Half of the group took the Saursune weapons and rope as they converged on the unconcerned reptile. The other half stood back and waited to see what kind of help they'd need. This croc was easily twice my length; it wouldn't go down without a fight, and we all knew it.

I scanned the sandbar, noting that two more crocs had come out of the water. They were far enough away, but who knew how many were lurking nearby in the water. Any disturbance could have dozens of crocs emerging from the depths if they thought an animal had been caught. If we could get the croc away from the water's edge, they'd be less likely to come investigate.

The hunters uncoiled two ropes and passed one end to the second group to hang onto. One of the quickest individuals edged forward with the leather-wrapped rope nooses. The crocodile waited motionlessly, jaws agape. With perfect coordination, the hunter tossed the nooses over the crocodile's top jaw.

Its jaws crashed together as the hunters pulled on the ropes. The croc spun in death rolls as the hunters holding the ropes strained to keep the heavy creature away from the water. Spear tips flashed in the sunlight as the hunters tried to strike the spinning reptile's heart, lungs, and arteries.

With a powerful swing of its tail, the croc reared up and twisted away, almost yanking the rope pullers off their feet, before they hauled back on the ropes as one, keeping its head facing this way so it couldn't drag them toward the water. At least one of the spears must have found its mark since the sand beneath the crocodile turned scarlet as its struggles slowed. Finally, it went limp.

Those with spears dropped them and ran to help pull the ropes. With a lot of effort and using some driftwood as rollers, they dragged it almost the entire twenty paces to the cart. I walked back and forth on the cart—wishing I could help—but knowing they preferred me up here.

Even though they were sweaty and breathing hard, they burst into quiet cheering with backslaps and fist-bumps in lieu of loud high-fives.

We had caught a croc! What had once been an impossible dream was now a reality.

"These ropes made all the difference," Tib said as he removed the noose from the croc's jaw and unwrapped the leather to check on the grey cord, which was—surprisingly—undamaged by the ordeal it had gone through.

"Let's gut this one, and we can grab a second croc. Then we can butcher both at the same time," another hunter said.

I sat in the cart and continued my vigil as the hunters teamed up to roll the croc onto its back. With twenty people gathered around the carcass, there wasn't any room for an extra person, which somewhat mollified my desire to help.

As I scanned the shore and river, a flicker of blue among the trees across the river made me blink, but it was gone before I got a better look at it.

Even though I only caught a glimpse, I was fairly certain a Saursune had observed our hunt. Not only had they seen us use the weapons they'd given us, but it had been to hunt something much larger than a mere fish or wild pig. It was probably a bit late to worry about how they'd react to us killing something so much heavier than a Saursune.

The Saursunes had located us within an hour, proof that there was some sort of tracker in the weapons that the Guard Station's scanner hadn't detected.