Tollee was being very quiet. Storm suspected that she felt almost as conflicted as he did about Teek’s departure. She’d never argued about it, though. She thinks it’s the right thing to do, Storm told himself, just like everyone else. It is the right thing to do.
“Do you think Teek will ever come on a raid?” she asked, so softly that Storm hardly heard her.
“Surely not.”
“Surely,” agreed Tollee.
Will I kill him one day? Will he kill me?
“Don’t be afraid.”
Tollee jumped and Storm’s head whipped around. Roup had come up so quietly that neither ferryshaft had noticed. His glossy golden fur gave good camouflage amid the fall wood. Storm scowled at him.
“At least I didn’t pin you to the ground this time,” said Roup with a twinkle.
Storm had had some vague notion that his comfort around Teek would ease feelings of anxiety in the presence of adult creasia. That idea was immediately dispelled. Roup was easily a head over Storm in height and probably four times his weight. Storm’s every instinct screamed, Predator! He glanced at Tollee and saw that she’d crouched, ears flat, breathing quickly, hackles raised.
Roup looked away from them, towards Myla and Teek, playing tag among the tree trunks. Storm had gotten better at reading creasia expressions over the summer. He thought Roup looked sad. “What’s his name?”
“Teek,” said Storm. A sudden fear gripped him. “You’re not going to take him right now, are you?”
Roup looked at him, and now the expression was unmistakably pity. “Of course not. Does he know?”
Storm looked at the ground. “No.”
Roup looked back towards the youngsters. “Whose foal?”
“Mine,” said Tollee. Her hackles had settled a little, but her voice was not friendly. “Her father was killed by creasia.”
Roup did not pursue this. “Teek will go into my clutter,” he said at last. “We don’t raid.”
Storm tried to hide his relief.
At that moment, Kelsy came trotting out of the trees. “Storm, it’s time for— Oh.”
Roup stretched in what Storm was sure was meant to be a disarming gesture. His claws fanned in enormous crescents. “I just came to say hello.”
“You’ve said it,” said Tollee. Storm could tell that it would take a lot more than one friendly conversation to make her trust an adult creasia.
Kelsy’s raised voice had attracted the attention of the youngsters. Teek caught sight of Roup and came to a stop with his mouth agape. His eyes darted to Storm for threat assessment. The moment he saw Storm’s relaxed posture, he came trotting forward. “You’re Roup Ela-creasia,” he breathed.
Roup cocked his head. “So I am.”
“Storm made you think he was a telshee.”
Roup looked startled and then made a chuffing sound. He glanced sidelong at Storm.
“He likes stories,” Storm mumbled.
“Do you have hunting stories?” Teek asked, still eyeing Roup.
“I have a few,” said Roup. The corner of his mouth quirked up, and the tip of his tail twitched. “I think Arcove has more.”
Teek’s eyes went round. “Is Arcove here?”
“Yes,” said Roup.
Teek looked worried again. He glanced at Storm. “Will he hunt us?”
“Not today,” said Roup. “Today, he just wants to hear your stories.”
Teek came all the way up to Roup and sniffed noses with him. Then he ran around the whole group in an excited circle. “We’re going to meet Arcove! We’re going to meet Arcove!”
Roup shot Storm a bemused look. “What have you told him?”
Myla, who’d hung back, became suddenly bold and came up to sniff noses with Roup as well. Storm was relieved that Tollee didn’t decide to kick him.
“Can I come, too?” Myla asked.
“Not today,” said Roup.
Tollee said, “No,” in the same instant.
Myla looked disappointed.
“I’ll tell you all the stories,” said Teek. “I’ll come back and tell you.”
Tollee glanced at Storm with a look that said, Please go, before this gets any harder.
“Come on, Teek,” said Storm wearily. “Let’s go meet Arcove.”
Chapter 2. The Truth at Last
The traditional council ledge was on the ferryshaft side of the waterfall. The trail ascended the cliffs from a point just north of the trees and climbed to a ledge about a third of the way up.
Storm followed Roup and Kelsy out of the trees and across a grassy patch of plain to the boulder mazes. He glanced back once and saw the ferryshaft herd scattered over the plain to the east. He turned towards the trees and saw Myla, looking small and alone, and Tollee, a darker shape behind her. It’s for the best, he told himself again. Our species don’t mix.
Teek was scampering ahead, stopping to wait impatiently, and then dashing forward as soon as they reached him.
“What did you tell him?” repeated Roup.
“Everything except the raids,” snapped Storm. “I figured I’d let you explain that.”
Roup said nothing.
Liar, said a voice in Storm’s head. There’s one other thing you didn’t tell him.
Arcove and Charder were waiting at the foot of the trail. Teek would have dashed up to them, but Storm checked him with a word. The cub came running back and sat down at Storm’s side. Roup looked impressed. “Friendly and obedient. Maybe you should start raising mine.”
Arcove finished whatever he’d been saying to Charder and turned to give them his full attention. “Storm Ela-ferry.” He had a faint smile in his voice, which Storm found annoying.
“Arcove Ela-creasia.”
“Last time you were invited to a conference, you seemed inclined to make trouble…and then you left with something of ours.” He was looking at Teek.
Storm didn’t want to talk about that. “How do I know you won’t kill me?”
“There’s a peace treaty.”
“So I’ve been told, but I want to hear it from you.”
“I won’t hunt you for three days,” said Arcove. “I give you my word. Ask anyone on Lidian if I’ve ever broken it.”
Storm relaxed a little. At his side, Teek was glancing from Storm’s face to Arcove’s as though this were the best day of his life.
“And Teek?” demanded Storm.
“I don’t kill cubs,” said Arcove quietly.
Storm sighed. “In that case…there’s one who’d like to meet you.”
Teek darted forward, but he became shy at the last moment. Storm couldn’t blame him. Arcove would have made a leopard seal shy. Teek tucked his tail, bristling a little, and crouched. “Hello,” he whispered.
“He has apparently been weaned on stories of Storm’s chases,” said Roup.
“Oh?”
“Yes, don’t be surprised if he asks you to explain your failures.”
All the ferryshaft laughed. Charder, in particular, seemed thoroughly amused.
Arcove took it in stride. He looked down at Teek. “So…am I the hero or the villain in these tales?”
“Both, I think,” said Roup.
Arcove cocked his head at Storm. “Well. That is interesting.” He bent and gave Teek’s head a lick that nearly knocked him over. “Hello, Teek Ela-creasia.”
That seemed to unstop Teek’s mouth. “Storm says you can run really fast!” he said, bouncing up and down. “Have you ever been in Groth before? Did you know that an ely-ary—?”
“That’s enough,” interrupted Storm. Although I’m sure he’ll repeat it all later. “Let’s get this over with.”
The hike up to the council ledge was steep, but relatively short. It was a sheltered path worn into the cliff, almost a tunnel, with a rock wall that obscured their view of the plain until they reached the top. They had to go two-by-two, and the noise of the waterfall made conversation impossible.
However, by the time they reached the council ledge
they were high enough above the waterfall that they could easily hear one another again. Kelsy got right to the point. “There are about eleven hundred ferryshaft down there.”
“There should be about a thousand,” said Arcove.
“At least a hundred will die of natural causes this winter,” said Kelsy.
“And more than a hundred will be born this spring,” said Arcove.
Kelsy licked his lips. “I think I can control the breeding this fall.”
Charder rolled his eyes. “No, you can’t. I have tried everything you’re thinking, and, trust me, you can’t. Let him take a hundred. It will be less painful in the end.”
Teek sidled over to Storm. “What are they talking about?” he whispered.
“I’ll tell you later,” Storm said and hated the lie.
“Let me try with my own herd,” said Kelsy quietly. “I’m certain we can figure something out.”
“No,” said Arcove. “One herd. That’s not negotiable. I will entertain your breeding experiments, so long as it results in a thousand animals by this time next year. If not, the cull will be larger, and you will have a very bloody winter.”
Charder spoke quietly. “What will you do with the ones who breed out-of-turn, Kelsy? Because they will. More than you think.”
Kelsy sighed. “I suppose we could cull just those.”
“So you’ll do it yourselves?” asked Arcove.
“No, of course not.”
“So, you’ll tell us who to kill? That will certainly make you a popular leader.”
Kelsy made a noise of exasperation. “The cull is already uneven. The lower ranking animals are more likely to be taken. They’re more likely to be hungry, to run slowly, to be on the edge of the herd. It’s obvious why the elders agreed to the cull. They are hardly ever killed.”
Storm’s head came up sharply. Suddenly, a great many things made more sense.
Arcove flicked his tail. “You are now one of those ‘elders.’ Yet you argue for something more fair. I think that speaks well of you, Kelsy, but you’re not telling me anything that seems likely to produce fewer ferryshaft by this time next year.”
Roup spoke. “What do you think, Storm?”
Storm was staring out over the plain. The herd certainly looks smaller from up here. “I think you’re creating a problem where none exists.” He turned to look at Arcove. “We don’t need you to regulate us. Leave the herd alone.”
“No,” said Arcove. “Anything else?”
Storm shut his eyes. The waiting seemed intolerable. Why can’t this just be over? “Why am I here?” he demanded. “So that I can watch you convince Kelsy of what you convinced Charder a long time ago? This isn’t a real conference. You have all the power. What do you want from me?”
There was a moment’s tense silence.
Arcove’s voice dropped to a murmur. “Tell me about Syriot.”
Storm felt that he should have seen it coming, but he hadn’t.
“You’ve been there recently,” continued Arcove, “as you keep reminding me. How many telshees are down there now, and what do they plan to do?”
“I’m not your spy,” spat Storm.
“No, but you would like me to do something for you,” said Arcove. “I’ll take the cub, and I’ll make sure he’s safe, but you need to give me something in exchange.”
Teek, who’d been looking confused, sat bolt upright. “What?”
Roup gave Arcove a frantic shake of his head.
Arcove looked surprised. “You mean he doesn’t—?”
“Take me where?” Teek whirled to face Storm. “What’s he talking about, Storm?”
Storm looked at Teek. Half a dozen lies struggled to come out of his mouth, but they all stuck in his throat. “You’re going back to Leeshwood, Teek.”
Teek’s big, dark eyes darted over his face. “No,” he whispered. “No, no, no.”
“Yes.” Storm tried to put both finality and compassion into his voice. “You’re not a ferryshaft, Teek. You won’t be happy in the herd. You don’t belong there.”
“But I am happy!” Teek’s voice had risen an octave. “I’m happy with you! I’ll go wherever you go, Storm.”
“The creasia will have all kinds of hunting stories,” Storm began, but Teek interrupted him.
“I don’t want their stories! I want your stories!” He was growing frantic in the face of Storm’s calm determination. “Why do you want to get rid of me? What did I do to make you want to get rid of me?”
Storm felt his composure slipping. “I don’t want to get rid of you, Teek. I just can’t keep you.”
Teek started backing away from him. “I won’t go. I’ll run away. I won’t come back until you say you’ll keep me.”
Storm followed him. “Teek, stop it.”
Teek was whimpering. “You don’t want me. You’ve never wanted me. You always tried to get rid of me. What did I do? What did I do, Storm?”
“It’s not what you did; it’s what I did,” Storm heard himself say.
“I’ll always be good,” Teek pleaded. “I’d never hunt you, Storm. I promise! I promise! Please—”
“I killed your mother!” Storm shouted. The words felt as though they’d always been there, crouching in the back of his throat, a hideous monster waiting for a chance to spring free. Storm wanted to run after the monster, to cram it back inside him, but he couldn’t.
There was a moment of perfect silence on the council ledge. Teek’s eyes had dilated until they looked completely black. He took another step away from Storm and stumbled.
Storm’s voice broke. “That’s why she never came for you after the Volontaro. I felt responsible for you. I felt…sorry for you. But I can’t keep you, Teek!” And I don’t deserve to.
Teek took another step back. He opened his mouth, but didn’t make a sound. Storm felt certain that the expression of hurt and betrayal on Teek’s small face would haunt him as no ghost ever could. Teek whirled and bolted down the trail.
Roup stepped in front of Storm before he could follow. “Let him go,” said Roup quietly. “I’ll track him down later. I doubt he’ll go far. For now…just let him go.”
Storm inclined his head. He didn’t dare look at any of their faces. “I don’t know how many telshees are in Syriot,” he said. “I don’t think Shaw plans to attack you anytime soon. I don’t think she wants anything to do with you. But if Keesha wakes…you’d better look out.”
“He’s asleep?” asked Arcove, and there was a note in his voice that made Storm raise his head. Caution? Fear?
“He’s been asleep since the end of the war,” said Storm. “He woke up and talked to me, though.”
“I’ll bet he did,” muttered Roup.
“What did he tell you?” asked Arcove, his voice still guarded.
“Only what you did on Kuwee Island,” said Storm darkly. He hesitated. “I found—” Should I not tell them this? But I don’t see how it can hurt anyone. And they seem to want some piece of information in exchange for taking care of Teek. Maybe this will be enough. “I found Coden’s blue stone in Groth. The Shable, Keesha called it.”
That brought them all to attention. Even Charder turned from where he’d been looking over the plain. Arcove spoke. “You found…the Shable…in Groth?”
“Keesha and Shaw seemed as confused as you are,” said Storm. “I’d tell you that Coden’s ghost gave it to me…if I thought you’d believe that.”
Roup looked like he wanted to know more, but Arcove spoke again. “So Keesha has the Shable now.”
“Yes.” Storm took a deep breath. “Is that enough? Will you take care of Teek?”
“We’ll take care of him,” said Roup quickly. “You can even come and visit if you like.”
Arcove shot him a warning look as though to say, “We’ll discuss this later.” He turned back to Kelsy. “So. Raid or not raid, Kelsy? I told you I’d let you try this year, so it’s your decision, but there will be a lot of killing next winter if you can’t contr
ol them. And if you try to start a new herd without my blessing, I will kill you and every one of your followers. Do you understand?”
Kelsy seemed untroubled by the threats. “I understand, and I’d like to try to control them without raids.”
“So be it,” said Arcove and, behind him, Charder gave a deep sigh.
“Storm,” said Arcove, and Storm fancied he could feel the weight of Arcove’s gaze like a heavy rock on his shoulders. “I would like you to rejoin your herd.”
Storm watched him warily. “What do you mean?”
“I mean exactly what I said. I do not approve of rogue ferryshaft. They tend to be the seeds of new herds. Is your sister still in Syriot?”
“As far as I know,” said Storm carefully. No need to mention Valla.
“Then I would like her to rejoin the herd as well. Tell her.”
“And if we don’t?”
Arcove’s tail lashed. “If you don’t, I will send creasia to hunt you. However, if you rejoin your herd and do not incite them to break treaty laws, I will treat you as any other ferryshaft.” He glanced at Roup. “Perhaps you might even come and see Teek.”
You’re going to use him to control me, thought Storm with a sinking feeling. At least you haven’t threatened him. Yet.
“I’ll think about it,” he said.
“One of our rules stipulates no contact with telshees,” said Arcove.
“I heard what you said,” grated Storm.
“As long as you understood what I meant.”
“Do you always get your way?” Storm demanded.
“Usually,” said Arcove. “Charder, you’re being very quiet. Do you have anything to add?”
“No,” said Charder. “And I think we should go down. The herd is behaving oddly.”
Storm followed his gaze, but the plain looked as it had before. Only now he understood what Charder meant. The herd looked small because it was small. Most of the ferryshaft must have gone into the belt of trees by the river. There were not nearly enough shapes on the plain to account for eleven hundred animals.
Arcove was looking down as well. “Agreed,” he said after a moment, and Storm thought he sounded puzzled.
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