Dagger's Point (Shadow series)

by Logston, Anne

  They waited while the strange-looking creatures approached, Jael watching intently for the first sign of one of them leveling a spear or drawing a bow, but the creatures did neither of these things. The creatures stopped a short distance away, gazing from Jael to Tanis with open amazement.

  Finally the foremost creature, a male, stepped forward, and Jael found herself looking into silver catlike eyes more than a head above her. The male hesitated, glancing perplexedly from the pendant around Jael’s neck to her sword, then back again. At last he extended one hand. Jael was surprised to see that his large hand had six long fingers rather than five.

  Equally hesitant, Jael reached out, expecting to take his hand; as soon as she extended her own hand, however, she found her forearm clasped firmly by the huge hand. Jael clasped his forearm in return as best she could, although her fingers could not reach around the muscular limb.

  “I am Wirax, leader of the Second Hunt of the grass hunters,” he said. His voice was low and melodious. “Who are you and what is your clan?”

  “I’m—” Jael hesitated again. “I’m Jaellyn, and my friend is Tanis. I’ve come seeking my people and my clan.”

  “What is your clan?” Wirax repeated slowly. “You are one of the mountain folk, are you not? You wear their symbol.” He indicated Jael’s pendant.

  “My father may be one of the—the mountain folk,” Jael said. “I’ve never met him or his people. I know only what my mother has told me of him. Can you help me find him?”

  “How can you not know your people and your clan?” Wirax asked as if he had not heard Jael’s last statement. “You speak our tongue. You wear their sign and have their scent.” He released her arm, then grasped her wrist, holding her hand up. “But not the same. You have not the look of the mountain folk.”

  Jael started to explain, then shook her head.

  “I’ll be happy to tell you everything I know,” she said. “But my friend is hurt and needs help, and we were both injured by skinshifters.” She braced herself as she made that last admission, fearing that these people, like humans, would react with typical fear or hostility, fleeing or driving them away, if not attacking.

  Wirax, however, only nodded.

  “We will take you to our camp, and our healer will tend your friend,” he said. “You can answer our questions then.”

  He glanced at Tanis, then at the ponies.

  “Your friend is weak and your riding beasts are weary,” he said. “My sister Vani and I will carry you. We carry the mountain folk sometimes on hunts to the dragon mountains. My folk will lead your riding beasts and follow.”

  Tanis looked alarmed at this suggestion, but Jael gave him a warning glance; it wouldn’t do to anger these people. Tanis reluctantly let her help him down from the pony, and when they turned, a tall female was there. Wirax helped Tanis onto the female’s back, and the female—Vani, apparently—took some of the rope from the saddle, passing it around Tanis’s back and tying it around her own waist.

  “Don’t try to hold on, young one,” Vani said, reaching behind her to pat Tanis’s leg. “Your arm won’t hold, and our camp is a good hour’s run.”

  Jael squinted doubtfully at the broad expanse of Wirax’s back. She was an accomplished rider, but Wirax was certainly wearing no saddle and his back, not at all like a horse’s, was a good bit taller than she was used to.

  Wirax, seeming to understand her dilemma, extended his hand with a smile. This time Jael gladly clasped arms with him, and with Wirax supporting her weight, Jael was able to scramble awkwardly onto his back. The fur was unexpectedly soft and thick.

  “I feel the strength in your legs,” Wirax said. “Do you need a rope?”

  “I think I’ll be all right,” Jael said. She awkwardly wrapped her arms around his waist.

  “Not like that.” Wirax took her hands and showed her how to hold on, her arms passing under his armpits and bending up to clasp his shoulders. “Thus, or you’ll bounce about. Hold fast, then, young one.”

  Jael gave a last backward look to be sure some of Wirax’s companions were indeed bringing the ponies. Then she had to devote all her attention to holding on as Wirax launched himself forward.

  Despite the rough beginning, Wirax soon fell into a smooth, rather rolling gallop of unbelievable swiftness. Jael felt the powerful muscles ripple under her legs, and his shoulders were strong and solid under her hands, his pelt soft. His scent was strong and fresh, and Jael suddenly felt her body warm to it, the smell and the feel of him. Jael shivered and held on tight, breathing in his scent as his hair blew back into her face.

  The plain rolled past with amazing speed. The grass was green from the frequent spring rains, but Jael could well imagine that in summer, when there was less water, the grass would dry to just the color of Wirax’s fur. If the plains hunters folded their legs and lay in ambush in the grass, their eyes would just top the tall grass, and they’d be all but impossible to see.

  Far to the west she could see more clearly the mountains she’d glimpsed the night before. They were closer than she’d thought, but were veiled by a thick mist and Jael could not determine how tall they might be. She’d never seen such mountains in her life, and ordinarily the misty heights might appear grim and forbidding, but something in those mountains made Jael’s heart soar with joy. As clearly and instinctively as she’d felt at peace and welcomed when she’d set foot on the grassy plain, now she felt a pleasurable twinge of something very like recognition looking on those mountains, a feeling like that of homecoming.

  And wasn’t she in fact coming home, in a sense, after all?

  Ahead of them she saw a dark spot surrounded by what appeared to be huge mushrooms. As they approached, however, Jael realized that the dark spot was a camp of some sort, and the mushrooms were large hide tents. More of the grass hunters, as Wirax had called them, were coming from the camp to greet them, including some smaller ones that Jael decided must be children despite the perfectly functional bows and spears clutched in their hands. Soon Jael and Wirax were surrounded by a staring throng.

  Jael looked around for Vani, and was alarmed to find her nowhere in sight. Wirax seemed to sense her alarm.

  “Vani ran ahead,” he said. “Your companion lost his wakening some time ago, and she is a faster runner than I, so she took him ahead to Vedara, the healer. You can climb down now, Jaellyn.”

  Jael felt something very much like regret as she slid off Wirax’s muscular back. She’d never ridden a horse so swift.

  “There will be time enough for you to meet my clan,” Wirax said, raising his voice so the statement included his people as well as Jael. “For now I will take you to Vedara and your friend.”

  Jael looked back the way they’d come. There was a moving blob on the horizon, probably the others with the ponies. Reassured, Jael nonetheless stayed close to Wirax’s side as he led her into the circle of tents. She was rather embarrassed to note that Wirax had to slow his pace significantly to let Jael keep up with him.

  As they walked through the camp, Jael was reminded of the temporary villages made by some of the more nomadic of the el-ven clans. The tents were huge structures formed of stitched-together hides and mounted on solid frameworks of poles. Round holes had been cut at the top of the tents, cunningly covered by small upside-down V-shaped “tents” to keep out the rain and let smoke escape. The tents were bare of ornamentation on the top and sides, but patterns of brightly dyed beads had been stitched around the hanging flaps that served as doors.

  Inside the circle of tents was a smaller circle, and then another. At the center of the circle of tents was a cluster of six large firepits, and over each of these a large carcass of some sort of hooved quadruped was roasting.

  Everywhere she looked, Jael saw more of the amazing creatures and again she was struck by the reminders of an elven village. Here, too, the inhabitants were going about their everyday duties—caring for their young, mending or making weapons, weaving baskets, scraping or stitching hides, prepar
ing food, or simply lounging about talking. Jael was comforted by the casual appearance of the camp and the mild curiosity with which the inhabitants looked at her.

  Wirax led her to one of the interior tents, and Jael saw that Vani was already waiting outside the door flap, her legs comfortably folded under her. Wirax held aside the flap.

  “You may enter,” Wirax told Jael. “Vedara will tend your wound.”

  Jael took a deep breath and stepped forward; the flap was cut high for Wirax’s people, so there was no need to duck her head. The transition from the bright sunlight to the darker interior of the tent blinded Jael for a moment, and she had to stand blinking for several seconds before her eyes adapted.

  The interior of the tent was lit by animal-fat lamps, judging from the smell, and a good many of them. The floor was comfortably strewn with furs except for the small firepit at the center, where a low coal fire burned. At one side of the tent a cup-shaped depression had been dug into the earth, and this was thickly filled with furs, apparently a bed of sorts. Everywhere were small pouches and pots smelling of herbs, potions, and ointments, perfuming the tent with their powerful aromas.

  Tanis was lying on a sort of low table built of stacked blocks of sod and covered with hides. Tending him was a creature that made Jael hesitate near the door flap, almost afraid to move forward.

  In general form it was similar to the other grass hunters, but its pelt was not the uniform light tan color Jael had seen; rather, it was mottled in shades of black and dark brown with occasional patches of glistening white. Unlike the other grass hunters she’d seen, Vedara’s hindquarters were like the forelegs, ending in clawed paws. The ears at the top of Vedara’s head, too, were longer, swept up and back and tufted in white fur at the tips.

  Most amazing, though, were the four arms that sprang from Vedara’s shoulders, one set below the other, all working busily on Tanis.

  The long ears swiveled in Jael’s direction, shortly followed by the face, and again Jael almost gasped. Vedara’s face, neither dis-tinguishably male nor female, was built in planes so angular and exotic that Jael was uncomfortably reminded of Durgan and Cesanne. The eyes were slit-pupiled like Wirax’s, but they were a rich, tawny gold rather than silver. Jael thought she’d never seen a more exotic-looking—or beautiful—being in her life. It wore more gold jewelry than any of the others Jael had seen, including a marvelous bracelet in the shape of a dragon coiled around one wrist.

  “Come, and welcome, Jaellyn of the Four Peoples,” Vedara said, his—her?—voice as mellow and sweet as wind through el-ven pipes. “He has asked for you. Quickly; he almost sleeps.”

  Jael couldn’t bring herself to speak, but crossed the fur-covered floor and knelt on the other side of Tanis, taking his hand. Tanis’s eyes were only half-open, but he seemed to recognize her, squeezing her fingers weakly.

  “It’s not as serious as that,” Vedara told her, and Jael swiped impatiently at the tears on her cheeks. “Some blood has been lost, but most of his sickness is only pain and fear and weariness. He woke a little and showed me the potion you gave him for pain. I gave him another, a stronger one. He will sleep, likely until morning.”

  “Thank you.” Jael had to force herself to speak, and her voice was barely louder than a whisper. “Can you tell if he’s infected with the shifter sickness? Can you cure him?”

  “He carries the taint of the Unformed Ones, yes,” Vedara said, nodding. “But the taint is young and weak. I can slow its progress, but I have not the power of an Enlightened One to reverse that change. Come here and look.”

  Jael crept timidly around the table, Vedara moving aside to make room. The raw wound in Tanis’s side had closed noticeably and the bleeding had stopped, but the skin around the wound was an unhealthy grayish color.

  “The dressing you used was a good one,” Vedara told her. “There’s no infection but for the taint in his blood, and that I have slowed, as I said. There’s no immediate danger for him. Now I will see your own wound.”

  Jael stood, flushing despite herself. Now that she was closer to the strange creature, she realized that despite its delicately featured face, it was certainly male; first, it had no breasts, and second, Vedara’s fresh, musky scent affected her even more potently than Wirax’s had. Healer or not, Jael was embarrassed as she pushed her trousers down over her hips, glad that her tunic hung low enough to cover her. She sat down as Vedara indicated, trying not to tremble as the healer’s long fingers slid the tunic up her thigh to uncover the scratches there.

  What Jael saw made her forget her sudden desire. The claw marks on her skin were puffy and inflamed, the skin around them starting to show the same gray color as Tanis’s wound.

  Vedara, however, appeared untroubled by either the inflammation or the obvious signs of the shifter sickness. His long fingers probed the wounds very gently, and he smiled, patting Jael’s shoulder reassuringly.

  “You tended your friend with more care than yourself,” he chuckled. “But the Unformed Ones are dirty and their claws often carry disease—nothing that cannot be treated, of course. The Four Peoples are more susceptible to such infections than we, and to the blood taint of the Unformed Ones. Lie down, and I’ll clean and dress these.”

  Jael obeyed, once again miserably self-conscious, alternating between arousal and humiliation. The infection of the scratches bore poor testimony to her skill in field medicine, and the fact that both she and Tanis had become tainted with the shifter curse bore equally poor testimony to her skill as a warrior.

  Vedara, apparently oblivious to the effect of his scent on his patient, gently cleaned the scratches with a liquid that burned like fire for a moment, then dressed them with an ointment that was as cool and soothing as the liquid had been burning and painful. He padded the scratches with a sort of soft moss, then bandaged her thigh firmly with a wide band of soft leather.

  “Your friend will not have the use of his arm for some days.” Vedara said, smoothing a last wrinkle from the leather. The touch of his fingers on her thigh made Jael shiver. “But you should have no difficulty. Once your Enlightened Ones have cleansed the taint from your blood, you can both be healed completely.”

  “I don’t know any—any Enlightened Ones,” Jael stammered, wishing he would take his hand away so she could put her trousers back on.

  “So Vani said.” Vedara smiled again. “You don’t know your clan, and your blood is not as theirs—at least to look at you. But we will help you find your kinfolk.”

  “Thank you,” Jael whispered. She sat up and hurriedly reached for her trousers. Vedara stopped her, however, taking her hands in two of his own, his other two hands cupping her face.

  “I smell your heat,” he murmured. “The scent of your kind acts as potently upon us as ours does upon you. Perhaps at one time in the dim past we were all one folk. But my folk and yours are not made for mating one with the other.”

  “I know.” Jael’s face was flaming now, and she wished miserably she could just sink into the earth beneath her. “I didn’t mean—”

  “Shhhh.” Vedara traced Jael’s lips with one fingertip. “Your desire honors me. The beauty of your inner self shines like the sun. I envy your mate.” He glanced over at Tanis.

  “Tanis? But we’re—” Jael stopped, confused. Just friends? Not anymore, not for some time. And more shame to her for almost forgetting him entirely in her lust for this strange creature, when she’d spent long nights wondering how anybody could be so foolish as to let the heat of their loins cloud their heads!

  “You’re right,” Jael said abashedly. “And thank you.”

  “You are most welcome, my bright one,” Vedara said fondly. “Now come outside and let my people speak to you and touch you and wonder at you and feed you, and let Wirax ask you far too many questions, and then you, too, can rest.”

  Jael scrambled into her torn pants and let Vedara lead her back out of the tent. Although it was only midafternoon and the sun was still high, the grass hunters had prepared a f
east for her and laid it out on low sod tables similar to the one in Vedara’s room. Some of the meat was still roasting, but the rest had been cut into joints and laid on the tables. Jael had not expected fruits of any kind—it was still spring, after all—but she was surprised that there were no succulent spring greens on the table, as she’d seen a good many of them growing on the plain. There was meat, flat rounds of bread, bowls of what looked like baked mushrooms, and a bowl of what appeared to be some kind of blood pudding, but that was all.

  Well, she’d never cared much for greens anyway.

  Following Vedara’s and Wirax’s example, Jael seated herself a little awkwardly on the ground at the low tables. She quickly saw the reason for their particular type of construction—when the grass hunters folded their legs under them, the sod tables placed the food at a comfortable height for the hunters’ long torsos. Jael quickly found that the only way she could easily reach the food was to kneel upright. It would certainly be far too embarrassing to have to ask Wirax for cushions to sit on—not that she’d seen any cushions in Vedara’s tent anyway.

  Jael quickly found that the deceptively simple food was as delicious and cunningly prepared as anything she’d ever tasted. The gamy meats were roasted to a turn and strongly flavored with seasonings Jael did not recognize. The bread was soft and nutty, perhaps made of some kind of starchy tuber. The mushrooms added just the perfect earthy flavor. To Jael’s surprise, there was nothing to drink with the meal but water, but the water had been flavored with some wild herb, fresh and tangy.

  Jael ate hugely, thinking guiltily of Tanis as she enjoyed the fresh, juicy meat and soft bread. Despite the seemingly festive occasion, the grass hunters were a casual people and there was little ceremony to the meal; hunters came, ate, and left as they pleased. To Jael’s surprise, despite the obviously friendly manner each of the grass hunters showed, except for Wirax, Vedara, and Vani, they gave Jael a wide berth. The youngsters, just like young elves, ran wild, snatching at food and running between the adults, occasionally pausing to stare wide-eyed at Jael.