Hunters Unlucky Part 63

Tollee and Myla tried to grab a few mouthfuls of gra.s.s, but their immediate vicinity was soon picked clean. Tollee tried to catch sight of animals she knew, but those nearby were strangers, and the creasia growled every time anyone stood up or tried to move around.

In the middle of the night, they were roused again and hurried on through the forest. The journey in the dark felt surreal, running on stiff and painful legs, dizzy with thirst. Myla tripped repeatedly, and Tollee had to drag her to her feet. Tollee knew, from her time with Teek, that cats could see better in the dark than could ferryshaft. They were also more alert at night. She did not think escape under these conditions was possible.

By dawn, they'd reached the sh.o.r.es of the lake and were allowed to splash down to the edge to gulp water and tear at the fibrous reeds. It was poor forage, but it filled their bellies. Soon they were hurrying on again, along the edge of the lake, going south, away from ferryshaft territory.

Are they taking us to the southern plains? It seemed like a senseless thing to do, but nothing the creasia had done since the conference made any sense to Tollee. It was clear to her now that the ferryshaft were being herded by a relatively small number of cats-perhaps a dozen, aided by an indeterminate number of curbs.

We could get away, she thought. If we made an organized effort. But the cats wouldn't let them talk to each other, and exhaustion was a powerful deterrent.

We're too tired and too cowardly. Tollee considered the very real possibility that she would never see Storm or her home plains again. I don't want my daughter to lose her mother the way I did-seeing her eaten alive by curbs.

Chelby Lake contained a variety of small islands-many undoubtedly without actual soil. At evening, the creasia broke their silence for the first time and began ordering the ferryshaft into the lake, insisting that they swim to one of these small islands. Tollee was relieved to see the animals at the front of the group struggling out of the water. The foliage came down right to the edge of the island and she had thought, for a few horrified moments, that they were to be stranded, clinging to tree limbs in the middle of the lake.

Tollee could see that Myla was at the end of her strength. She had to drag her foal out of the water and through the weeds into the trees, where the herd was shaking itself off and getting its collective breath. Looking back, Tollee saw that the curbs and creasia lined the sh.o.r.e, but they had not swum across. In spite of everything, she felt a moment of immense relief. Ferryshaft were calling to each other, daring to raise their voices to locate their families and friends.

Tollee lay down beside Myla. The foal dropped her head on her hooves and lay insensible while the herd milled around them. Amid the chaos, Tollee saw other mothers and foals. She saw lone foals, too-some calling, some huddled still and silent. The herd was too exhausted to sort itself out properly, and most animals lay down as soon as they'd had enough water to take the edge off their thirst. Tollee was asleep before her head quite touched the ground.

Arcove's den was a warren of packed-earth caves among the roots of enormous, ancient trees that twisted among boulders. Storm was surprised and impressed by the hot springs that warmed and humidified the air. They sent up tendrils of pearly steam that created hazy curtains wherever the warmer water met colder air or other streams. Storm smelled pine and the peculiar odor of the springs. If not for the sounds of fighting in the distance and the nearer moans of wounded animals, it would have been a delightful place.

Sauny was impressed, too. "This is where they live?" she whispered.

Charder huffed over his shoulder. "Did you think creasia kings would live somewhere unpleasant?" After a moment, he added, "There are hot springs like this in the boulder mazes south of Leeshwood, in territory where ferryshaft used to roam."

They were challenged on their way in, but Charder came boldly to the front of the group and told the sentries who they were and why they were here. Arcove's creasia seemed suspicious, but ultimately more concerned about other cats than about ferryshaft. When they reached the main cave, a large, nut-brown female with dark points on her paws and nose came out to meet them. She seemed to know Charder, and she directed them all to the back of the main cave.

"Stay here," she said. "I cannot guarantee your safety anywhere else."

"Nadine!" someone bellowed. Not far away in the night, cats were screaming. Storm couldn't tell whether it was a threat or a sound of agony.

Nadine whirled away.

"That's Arcove's mate," said Charder quietly, "the highest ranking, the den mother. We can probably trust her."

"Storm..." whispered Teek, and Storm looked around to see several dozen anxious faces peering at them out of the shadows. He almost laughed.

She's put us with the cubs. That's a strange turn-around. Storm was fairly certain that Arcove's mate was old enough to have seen cubs killed by ferryshaft.

A couple of them looked to be about Teek's age. Most were a little older, and there was a small, fluffy pile of those who were a year younger.

A big cub with night-black fur approached, stiff-legged, watching Teek. Teek backed up against Storm, bristling. Most of the cubs seemed cowed by the awful noises coming from the forest and the agitation of their mothers. Wounded were beginning to trickle in, and some had truly horrific injuries. Storm didn't see any cats that he recognized, although it was difficult to tell in the shifting shadows. He wanted to ask someone about Arcove, but all the creasia seemed busy.

Sauny and Valla had lain down side-by-side, watchful, but willing to rest. Charder had lain down and put his head on his hooves as well. Kelsy seemed more restless. He paced. Storm fell asleep, listening to the back and forth clip-clop of Kelsy's hooves.

Chapter 13. The Next Morning.

Storm woke, disoriented and thirsty. Someone nearby was keening. The chilly air was rank with the smell of blood and offal. Storm raised his head, blinking in the pre-dawn light. He could see the confused shapes of dozens of creasia curled or sprawled on the floor of the cave. Sauny and Valla were still sleeping. Charder and Kelsy had gone. Teek was curled up against Storm. Storm managed, gingerly, to extract himself without waking the cub.

Most of the other cubs had left the back wall of the cave. Storm caught sight of some of them as he picked his way around the sleeping creasia. The keening was coming from the far side of the cave, where a cub nuzzled desperately at the unmoving form of a female.

As Storm made his way towards the entrance, he spotted others who would never rise again. Some were clearly sleeping, exhausted, but here and there Storm saw the unnatural stillness of death. Cats lay with their innards oozing out of gaping belly wounds, their blood thick and sticky on the cave floor, open eyes glazing. Some had all-but-lost legs. Some had died convulsing in their own vomit, and they lay in twisted shapes among their sleeping companions.

The bodies continued outside. Storm estimated that over two hundred creasia were sleeping in and around the caves. He tried to count them, but kept losing track. I can't tell how many are alive, anyway.

The first creasia Storm recognized was Halvery. He was lying beside the entrance, his fur stiff with blood, but clearly alive. He looked at Storm balefully in the wan light.

Storm hesitated. "How many did you lose?" he asked softly.

"What's it to you?" snapped Halvery, his voice rough with weariness.

Storm did not speak or move for a moment.

Finally, Halvery muttered. "This is why kings and challengers fight. One fight. Two cats. In order to avoid...all of this." The last words came out in a whisper, and he laid his head back down on his paws.

Storm inched around him and kept going. He took a drink at one of the streams, though it seemed strange to be drinking warm water. It had an odd taste, but he'd seen creasia drinking from it the night before, so he felt safe. Storm's stomach rumbled, and he realized that it had been two days since he'd eaten.

On the edge of the hot spring, in a little bend of the stream, Storm finally found Arcove. He thought that it was an odd place to sleep, although the caves were certainly crowded. The female from the night before, Nadine, was lying between Arcove and the other animals, fast asleep. Roup lay half curled around Arcove with his head draped over Arcove's back. He opened his eyes as Storm approached. Storm saw that Arcove was shivering. He was lying so close to the hot water that steam was condensing on his whiskers, and yet he was shivering as though he'd been lying in snow.

Roup got up, awkwardly, and Storm saw that he'd been raked from nose to tail by claws. The b.l.o.o.d.y tracks were stark against his pale fur. Storm couldn't tell how badly Arcove might be wounded from the fight. His black fur showed nothing. Storm suspected that the worst wounds were invisible.

"Arcove?" whispered Storm.

Arcove's eyes opened to slits. Storm didn't think he'd been asleep. He did not look at Storm, but stared blankly into the river. "What do you want?" His voice was so low that Storm had to strain to hear.

Storm sat down on the riverbank. He glanced at Roup, but Roup said nothing.

"You should go find your herd," said Arcove, his voice still whisper-soft. "The advice Shaw gave you was...accurate."

Storm didn't know what to say. He was saved from this dilemma by the sound of a not-so-distant ululating yip. Roup jerked up and looked around, but Arcove didn't even raise his head. Storm suspected that Roup was thinking of hundreds of lowland curbs charging into their sleeping company. Before Roup could sound an alarm, Storm said, "Wait." He listened hard. "That's not lowland curbs." He couldn't help but smile. "That's highland curbs. They're calling me."

Storm backed away from Arcove, Roup, and Nadine. He trotted west along the river until he found a spot narrow enough to leap across. The sky had brightened into dawn, but the sun had not risen yet over the cliffs when Storm found Eyal and his pack. He was not surprised to find Sauny and Valla already talking to them. He was delighted to see that they'd killed a pair of sheep, and everyone had obviously eaten their fill. Storm sniffed noses with Eyal and then tore into the food. He wished he'd brought Teek and made a mental note to take some back to him.

"Rumors are flying about you, my friend," said Eyal while Storm ate.

"Aren't they always," mumbled Storm around a mouthful of liver. "How are your puppies?"

Eyal grinned. "See for yourself."

Storm raised his head. Looking more closely, he saw that the pack included animals he did not recognize-a little lankier than their elders, but just as tall. "They grew fast!" exclaimed Storm.

Eyal beamed. "We have five new pack members. We lost two, but such is the way of things. We have you to thank for our safety over the winter, and we have not forgotten. We heard that you might be in some trouble."

Storm sighed. "The creasia are in trouble."

Eyal peered at him. "So I gathered. Why do you not leave them to their fate? Last we spoke, you seemed anxious to see Arcove feeding the vultures."

Storm looked at the ground. He felt tired of repeating the events of the last few days. Every time he thought about them, he came to a different conclusion. He glanced at Sauny. She was wearing the Shable this morning. The smooth, blue stone with its black pupil gleamed amid the red-gold fur of her chest like a third eye. "They're very brave," she offered.

"Creasia are brave," agreed Eyal. "It is a trait that curbs admire. However, they are not good at making friends among other talking animals. If you help them, they may not reciprocate later."

"Arcove keeps his promises," said Sauny.

Storm was surprised. Little sister, you have been growing up this summer. Maybe I have, too.

"And has Arcove made you any promises?" asked Eyal.

Good point.

"No," said Sauny.

"The lowland curbs helped to drive my herd somewhere into the forest for Treace," said Storm aloud. "We need to go after them soon. Can you help us with that?"

"That I will do gladly," said Eyal.

A curb began to growl suddenly, and Eyal's ears flattened. In the same instant, Storm caught the scent of brine and a smell he a.s.sociated with darkness and deep caves. A moment later, he saw Keesha's enormous form gliding through the forest like water pouring down a hill. Seeing Keesha outside of Syriot was even more alarming than seeing him in it. He carried his head at half the height of the average tree, and yet he moved with the speed of a summer snake. Shaw was with him, as well as half a dozen other telshees that Storm didn't recognize. The curbs stopped growling, but they looked uneasy, in spite of all the time they'd spent on the borders of Syriot.

Keesha looked utterly serene. His bright, blue eyes flicked around the group, and he lowered his head to a more friendly height just above theirs. "How is Arcove?" he asked genially.

"Unwell," said Storm. "He lost the fight. What did you do to him?"

"I was afraid that might happen," said Keesha. "But I'll sort it out. Where is he?"

"His cats are in and around his den," said Sauny cautiously. "You're not going to stroll in there, are you?"

"Of course I am," said Keesha, "unless one of you would like to tell him to come out and see me. He can see me there or see me here: his choice."

"I'm not sure how far he can walk," said Storm.

"That bad?" said Keesha. "Well, I will wait patiently. If he's not here by noon, I'll come and find him...and kill anything that gets in my way."

Chapter 14. Poison.

Arcove floated in and out of a fever dream. He knew Roup was there and that Roup was desperately worried. That knowing was worse than anything, but Arcove couldn't fix it. He knew that Nadine and Seeka and his other mates were already grieving for the cubs that would die tonight or tomorrow, but he couldn't fix that, either. He thought Charder came to see him, and that seemed odd. Charder, at least, should not expect him to make anything better. And yet, there he was, speaking words that Arcove couldn't quite follow.

The one thing he did understand with agonizing clarity was that he had lost a fight. Arcove had never lost a fight. He knew the consequences for losing fights. Leeshwood did not forgive such things. Not for a creasia king.

Arcove had never thought beyond losing a fight. It seemed particularly cruel that he should still be alive, watching his friends and followers grieve and struggle, trying to make decisions, when there could be no good outcome for any of them. He told himself that it was always going to end this way, that he'd known from the beginning that this day would come.

"Was it worth it, Roup?"

Roup's worried face swam into view. "Arcove? Are you awake? Halvery wants to talk to you."

Arcove tried to think of an answer, but he couldn't concentrate. "Was it worth it?" he repeated.

"What do you mean?"

Arcove spoke in a whisper. At least, he thought he did. He wasn't entirely sure whether he was speaking aloud. "We could have shared a den, two or three females, had cubs and never even known whose was whose. I'm sure we could have kept them safe from ferryshaft and other cats. We could have had smaller lives...longer lives... Your brother would probably still be around."

He knew he'd spoken out loud, then, because Roup's face crumpled. "Please don't talk like that."

"But I need to know," whispered Arcove.

Roup took a deep breath.

Anyone else would just tell me yes, thought Arcove, but you'll tell me the truth.

"Do you think you could have done that?" whispered Roup. "Walked away from the council? Knowing you could be king?"

Arcove shut his eyes.

"Am I sorry we didn't grab something for ourselves when we could have made things better for everyone?" continued Roup.

"Did I make things better?"

"You gave them sixteen years of peace."

Arcove didn't say anything.

Roup put his head down against Arcove's. "I don't think you're capable of walking away from a challenge like that, and I'm not sorry I followed you, Arcove." His voice broke. "I have never been sorry for that. Now, please, focus; we need you."