Wolf Captured

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Wolf Captured Page 59

by Jane Lindskold


  The ahmyndisdu frowned and tapped her chin with a forefinger on which the chewed nail revealed the anxiety she would not let enter her voice.

  "That is an interesting comparison, Lady Blysse. Drunkenness. I had not thought of it. But what could Truth be drunk upon? She has drunk nothing but blood from freshly killed game and water from the same pitcher from which I myself have eased my thirst."

  Firekeeper felt pity for the ahmyndisdu—an emotion she was not accustomed to experiencing for one who was, after all, nearly a stranger. Yet it was clear that Tiridanti was tremendously worried about Truth—and for the cat's own sake. Never once had the ahmyndisdu expressed an awareness that the great cat's illness might be a symptom of some greater attack on the human with whom she was most closely identified.

  "Rahniseeta say you wish me talk to Truth," Firekeeper said. "I will do this, but I ask one thing. You will not be able to understand how I talk, and I not wish to stop to tell."

  Tiridanti had not practiced divination for several years now without learning something about interpreting cryptic statements.

  "You mean we should listen quietly, and not ask you to translate."

  "As I say," Firekeeper agreed, knowing she was being perhaps a trace brusque.

  Although Firekeeper would never admit it to anyone save Blind Seer, the great cats rather intimidated her. In her childhood, Firekeeper had encountered pumas and bobcats both, but wandering wolf pups are fair game to other predators, so Firekeeper had never lingered to extend the encounter. More recently, she had spoken with great cats both Royal and Wise, but never without a lingering sense that the cats were luxuriating in a sense of self-importance.

  Tiridanti nodded. "You will be attempting something very difficult. The least I can do is keep silence. Do you wish us to leave?"

  Firekeeper shook her head and found a thin smile.

  "I think you here is good, in case Truth is unhappy with me."

  "I understand."

  Tiridanti looked at Rahniseeta.

  "I am not certain how to explain your extended stay here, especially when I am asking everyone else to stay away—and with keeping Lady Blysse's presence rather quiet. I can, of course, simply say that I divined it needed to be so, but… "

  Rahniseeta was already rising.

  "I had been thinking much the same myself, Ahmyndisdu. I will leave and make my own excuses."

  "Thank you, Rahniseeta."

  After Harjeedian's sister had left, Firekeeper lowered herself to where she would be at eye level with the jaguar. The burnt-orange eyes looked through her as if she were not there.

  "Truth," Firekeeper said. "Guhuarr."

  As so frequently since they had come to Liglim, Firekeeper was aware that this manner of speaking contained elements that she did not know how she would explain to another person. There were sounds, yes, and gestures, true, but there was a third element…

  Firekeeper shook her head as if she could physically clear these random thoughts. With Truth before her this was certainly not the time to let her mind wander.

  The jaguar's gaze was muddy with confusion, yet the eyes were not blank. They moved and shifted as if the jaguar sought to keep in view some rapidly moving thing none of the rest of them could see.

  Firekeeper slowly moved one hand in front of the jaguar's apparent field of vision, but Truth's eyes did not move.

  "Guhuarr," Firekeeper repeated. "Truth. Can you hear me?"

  The jaguar's black-rimmed ears flicked back and forth, as if Truth was trying to catch an elusive sound, not one spoken within a few fingers' breadth of her head.

  Again Firekeeper waved her hand in front of the jaguar's eyes. This time she was rewarded by the faintest shifting of the unfocused orbs in the direction of the motion, but it was nothing more than what might be granted by a butterfly fluttering on the periphery at a moment when the great cat was focused on more substantial prey.

  "Firekeeper," Blind Seer said from where he was lying to one side of the screened shelter. "You have tried eyes and ears. There are other senses."

  "I certainly am not going to touch her!" Firekeeper said. "No matter how distracted Truth may be, she is still a hunter. I would lose my hand—or more."

  "Quite likely" Blind Seer agreed, "but what about appealing to her sense of smell?"

  Firekeeper nodded. It was a good suggestion, and one she might have thought of on her own but for the human request that she talk to the jaguar. She cast around the screened room, looking for something that might break through the jaguar's isolation. She knew Tiridanti had been able to get Truth to eat, but that food alone had not been sufficient to break the firm grip of whatever held the jaguar's mind.

  She rose and turned toward where Tiridanti sat.

  "Have you spoken with Truth?" Tiridanti asked eagerly.

  "Not really," Firekeeper said with bare honesty. "I think she hears, but as if I call from across a vast distance. Do you have perfume?"

  Tiridanti blinked at Firekeeper in surprise.

  "Perfume?" she asked, saying the Liglimosh word very carefully, as if she thought Firekeeper might have meant something else. "Scented oil?"

  "That would do," Firekeeper agreed. "Or something that smells very strongly. Brandy, maybe, or even a foul scent like skunk. No food scent, though. I not want to make Truth hungry—not when I so close."

  The ahmyndisdu nodded. "I can see why you wouldn't want that. I do not have any perfume with me here, but I have some in my chambers. Let me go fetch it. I will attempt to return as swiftly as possible, but I may be delayed."

  Firekeeper nodded absently. "While you go, I will still try."

  Reassured, Tiridanti left quickly, and soon even the sound of her sandal-clad feet against the brick-paved path was lost to hearing.

  Blind Seer yawned.

  "Perfume was a good idea," he said. "I had thought about pissing on the jaguar's nose, but I think Tiridanti would have been offended."

  "As doubtless would have been the jaguar," Firekeeper said. "Drink deeply. We may still come to that."

  She resumed her place on the floor near the jaguar, watching as the great cat paced, continuing her attempts to break through Truth's distraction. Her success in this was slight, but she became certain of one thing. Truth was aware of what was said and done in her vicinity, but she was more aware of whatever other reality it was she saw in her visions.

  "It is as if," Firekeeper said to Blind Seer, "dreams and reality have changed places. Have you ever been dreaming and something has happened in the waking world and your mind has been so reluctant to leave the dream that it has taken the element of reality and woven it into the dream?"

  Blind Seer wrinkled his brow in confusion.

  "Not often," he said, "and then only little things, like dreaming the weather is hot because some two-legs is sprawled on top of me. Are you saying you can sleep through disturbances? Isn't that dangerous?"

  Firekeeper nodded. "Yes and yes. I have done it, and it is dangerous. Mostly for me it is as with you. A minor physical thing—like some four-legs' tail tickling me—weaves itself into my dreams so that I am not awakened. However, sometimes a sound such as distant thunder has woven itself into my dreams, so that I have dreamed of thunder."

  Blind Seer was clearly disconcerted.

  "Do not take offense, Firekeeper, but is this a human thing?"

  "I think so," Firekeeper admitted somewhat ashamedly. "But this is not important, not now. What I was trying to explain is that I think that for Truth the place of dreams and the place of waking have been exchanged. She hears and sees, but then translates these into her dreaming."

  "That makes sense," Blind Seer said. " When we were in Misheemnekuru, I spoke with several of the Wise Wolves about divination. They thought my name might indicate that I came from a diviner line. I had to disappoint them, but in the discussions I learned about the many forms of divination as practiced by the yarimaimalom. Apparently, divination of the future is often likened to a sort of dream, one
that foretells the various might-be's. A skilled diviner can sort these from each other, and offer advice based upon them."

  "So Truth," Firekeeper said, "may have set off to track a future and lost herself. Didn't one of the ravens say Truth had difficulty reading the future where I was concerned?"

  "It was Questioner who said this," Blind Seer replied, "but ravens were tied up in it. I wonder just how much those great gossips know?"

  "Worry about that later," Firekeeper said. "Right now I want you to worry about how you will keep my skin relatively whole as I try to bring Truth out of her dreams."

  Tiridanti returned shortly thereafter, bearing with her several flasks of perfume. The bottles were tightly corked and sealed with wax, but even so, strongly mingled floral odors flooded their vicinity.

  Firekeeper accepted a flask that smelled as if it contained every rose that had ever lived. The other smelled equally strongly of some southern flower, the name of which the wolf-woman did not know, though she had seen the small white blossoms starlike against the night.

  Blind Seer sneezed, and backed away involuntarily.

  "I brought better than perfume," Tiridanti said with a smile. "These hold pure essences such as would be used to blend perfumes and incense for our temple. The stillroom keeper gave them over but reluctantly."

  Firekeeper accepted the flask that smelled of roses, motioning for the other to be set aside.

  "If this work," she said, breaking the wax seal, "the keeper will have these back unspilled."

  "What are you going to do?"

  "Truth walks in dreams," Firekeeper said without explanation. "I try and lead her back."

  Tiridanti frowned. "With roses?"

  "With roses to wake her," Firekeeper said. "Something you say help me—that Truth would eat if food is before her. I do not think she see it. She smell it."

  "I should have thought of that," Tiridanti replied, dismayed. "I've fed enough kittens. They suckle best after they can smell the milk."

  "Humans are nose-dead," Firekeeper said. "Blind Seer remind me of this. Now, stay to side and quiet. I not know if this work, but I know Truth has sharp claws."

  "She does," Tiridanti agreed. "She does."

  Without further comment, the ahmyndisdu carried a lightweight woven chair to a corner from which she could watch without being in the way. Firekeeper forgot her immediately. Her attention was wholly upon the jaguar. Truth's nostrils had flared slightly when the perfumes were brought into her vicinity, but that had been her only reaction. Was she already lost in a dream wherein inexplicably flowers were now blooming in profusion?

  Firekeeper knelt where Truth's pacing would bring the jaguar slightly to one side. As Truth was padding past, Firekeeper unstopped the bottle and held it directly beneath the tawny pink of the jaguar's nose leather.

  Truth stopped in midstride as if she had been physically struck. Her haunches bunched beneath her as her forequarters suddenly reared back. Her tail puffed to twice its size. She tried to roar, but what should have been an intimidating sound tapered off into a whine of pain.

  From the corner of her eye, Firekeeper was aware of Tiridanti starting to her feet, of Blind Seer's admonishing growl, but she could not spare attention for either. Truth's eyes had lost their focus on elsewhere, but Firekeeper could not be certain whether those potent dreams would claim her once more.

  "Truth!" Firekeeper said. "Listen to me."

  The jaguar lashed out at the perfume bottle with one paw. The claws were extended, each curled length sharp and cleanly polished. Firekeeper jerked back the flask, sloshing out a few drops of the aromatic liquid in her haste, but she need not have been so quick. The jaguar's blow was clumsy, lacking the eye-blurring speed that is the birthright of a hunting cat.

  So Truth is yet half in the dream, Firekeeper thought. Then I must draw her out.

  Thinking that too much more of the pungent scent might drive the jaguar away, Firekeeper stoppered the flask and put it away from her. Then she again moved her hand in front of the burnt-orange eyes. This time Truth tracked the motion more alertly, raising one paw as if to strike, then pausing, blinking bleary-eyed, striving to focus.

  "Truth" Firekeeper called, seasoning the note with the notes of a wolf's howl. "Truth, look over here. Here I am. Firekeeper. Remember me?"

  "Wolfling." The reply came faintly, as if Truth was struggling to recall speech. "I cannot see you."

  Firekeeper was both pleased and frustrated. She recalled how Questioner had said that Truth had been frustrated by her inability to predict Firekeeper's actions. If this was indeed true, and if Truth turned once again to the world of dreams, Firekeeper might lose the ability to reach her. Truth would simply incorporate Firekeeper's presence into her dreams and there deny her existence.

  "That's right" Firekeeper said. "The wolfling. The northerner. The one you cannot see. I'm here now, right beside you. Look and you will see."

  But already the glazed look was occluding the jaguar's eyes. In frustration, Firekeeper did what she would not have dared had she not been fairly certain Truth's reflexes were far slower than usual. Darting out one hand, Firekeeper grabbed the end of the jaguar's tail and twisted. She didn't twist hard enough to break the bones, only hard enough to hurt.

  Truth yowled. She pivoted, balancing on her hind paws, striking out with her fore. Firekeeper let go immediately, rolling back and out of the way, but even so a claw traced a line of blood across her upper arm.

  "Hah! There!" Firekeeper shouted, and to Tiridanti's ears it sounded like a wolf's howl, short and sharp. "Here I am, kitten. Can you see me now? Look with the eyes in your head. I am here. Here in front of you. You can't find me in the dream, but can you find me here?"

  Truth roared, a harsh staccato sound, strident and alarming.

  "I see you!"

  She leapt, but her muscles were still not wholly under her control, and Firekeeper danced clear.

  "Do you still see me, kitten?" Firekeeper taunted. "Come after me if you do."

  Truth sprang, burnt-orange eyes flaring brighter and clearer, and Firekeeper leapt so that a table was between them. Truth cleared the table easily, but now Blind Seer had joined the game. Coming around behind, he nipped at the jaguar's flank, darting away so that her striking paw met only fur.

  Truth roared in frustration.

  "I see you!" Then she faltered, one paw landing as if the jaguar had misjudged the location of the floor.

  "See with the eyes in your head!" Firekeeper said, desperation turning what had been meant as a command into a plea. "The other eyes are no good. They will lead you astray. Use the eyes in your head!"

  Blind Seer dealt in more direct persuasion. He struck three times, snapping painfully at flank and shoulder, always avoiding the retaliating claws—though once Truth hit and blood beaded in a thin line across his nose.

  Truth's paws darted and dashed, making crazy patterns all around her. It was as if she batted at moths or gnats—or at a dozen images, only one of which was real. Her frustration was growing, her growls and roars becoming bestial and incoherent.

  Firekeeper seized up the pottery water jar from the floor and emptied its contents over the jaguar's head. The jar was large and still mostly filled. The contents sluiced through Truth's thick fur and onto the tiled floor. The jaguar snarled, reared to strike, and then, in midmotion, froze.

  For a long moment, Firekeeper thought she had pressed too hard, that this final stimulus had been too much. Then she saw the last of the glazed look melt from the jaguar's eyes, saw the burnt-orange light again with the translucent glow of gold, and saw Truth steady herself, holding still for an eternal moment of calculation before methodically shaking the wetness from her fur.

  Firekeeper drew her arm across her face to wipe away the fine spray and noticed for the first time since it had happened the thin score where the jaguar's claws had sliced her. The wound was bleeding cleanly, so she as immediately dismissed it.

  "Truth?" she asked. "Can you hear me?
"

  The jaguar turned a baleful gaze on her.

  "I can and I do. The real question is whether you will be glad for it."

  Chapter XXXIII

  So you've already sold the mare?" Poshtuvanu's disappointment sounded genuine, even though he was quite aware the mare was no longer in the farmer's keeping. "Oh, well… "

  The farmer's evident unhappiness at disappointing a representative of u-Bishinti was not without an element of self-defense.

  "I notified u-Bishinti when the mare was foaled," the farmer said in a voice as thin and reedy as his build. "I even asked if the name Freshwater Pearl met with the disdum's approval. However, I never received any indication that I should hold on to her—and horses are expensive to keep, true white horses more than most, as I see it, what with their fair skin and the problems of dealing with stains."

  He didn't so much stop speaking as trail off into a rather insect-like whine. Derian glanced at Poshtuvanu, and saw from the other's slight nod that it was his turn to speak.

  "Can you tell me to whom Freshwater Pearl was sold?" he said. "White horses are very greatly valued in my homeland. I would pay much for her." Zira had suggested this approach.

  "If representatives of u-Bishinti ask too many questions," she had said, "it may create suspicions—especially since we didn't snatch up the mare when she was a foal. However, who knows what a foreigner will fasten on as important? Derian can press and pry. All that will do is make him seem different—and there's nothing anyone can do about that."

  Remembering the grin Zira had given him, and how she'd leaned across to tug a trailing lock of red hair that had slipped from his queue, Derian had to suppress a grin. Although Derian's request had been rather more usual than not, the farmer seemed hesitant to reply. Although Derian found himself wondering if this meant the farmer had been told to keep silent about the transaction, he realized there was a much simpler motivation.

 

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