But if we don’t do it… Tollee doubted very much that Moro’s cull would stop at ten animals. He said he was going to make us comfortable on this island. How many would he have to kill…? Tollee shivered. We have to escape. We have to.
The herd began bickering as soon as the cats departed. Tollee noticed some of the elders eyeing young orphans. Trying to decide which have the fewest friends?
Some wanted to take a vote, but the entire herd had never voted on anything before. They couldn’t even effectively have a discussion. Tollee could hear animals quarreling in raised voices through the trees.
She looked at Itsa and Remy. Then, without speaking, they moved towards the lake-ward side of the island. As Itsa had said, the island wasn’t large. However, at the point where they emerged from the trees, they were out of sight of the mainland. Tollee could see what might be several other small islands in the distance. Or they might just be stands of trees with no soil. It had begun to snow, although it wasn’t quite cold enough for the snow to stick.
“Do you think they’ll swim after us if we just leave?” murmured Itsa.
“Well, they’ll definitely see us,” said Remy. “Once we get beyond the shelter of the island, we’ll be swimming in plain view. They could easily follow us along the shore.”
“We could swim to one of those islands,” persisted Itsa, “stay there until they lose interest, then swim to another island when they seem preoccupied.”
“Unless they just swim out after us,” said Tollee. She licked her lips. “I’ve fought with curbs. I’ve killed them in the water. I think the three of us might be able to make it…if the creasia don’t take an interest…but…” She cut her eyes at Myla and Teedo, who were chasing minnows in the shallows.
Remy looked stricken.
Our foals will never make it, thought Tollee. I’m not even sure they would make the swim…if we had to swim all day…if there was nowhere to get out of the water. Certainly if our enemies came after us and we had to fight for our lives… Our foals would never make it.
“I’m not going,” said Remy at once. She turned to Tollee. “I’ll keep Myla if you want to try. Maybe…maybe we’ll meet again…and if not, then you were right to go, because we can’t protect them here, either. But I’m not going.”
Tollee licked her friend’s nose. “There has to be another way.”
“I don’t think so,” murmured Remy.
“Tollee…Remy…” Itsa’s voice sounded strained. They turned to look and saw her staring at Myla and Teedo. The foals seemed to have discovered something in the water. They were standing still, rearing up a little, necks arched as if they wanted to look at it, but were afraid to get too close. Itsa had gone just a little farther along the bank towards them. Suddenly, the thing moved, and the foals dashed back to the bank.
“Mother,” whispered Myla, “it’s…like Teek…under the water.”
The thing rose up. Remy gasped. Tollee thought, at first, that she was looking at a muddy creasia cub who had somehow been lurking in the shallows. The animal was a little bigger than Teek, perhaps a year older. However, as mud slithered from its body, it became clear that something was very wrong. Loops of slimy, dull gray tissue were trailing from the cat’s belly. Here and there, a flash of pink appeared, but the wounds looked old and rotten. The cub opened its eyes, and they were green—as green as the lishty’s eyes among the carnivorous plants.
The animal took a staggering step towards them. All five ferryshaft retreated up the bank so quickly that they nearly ran into each other. Below them, the little cat opened its mouth impossibly wide and hissed. Tollee felt cold. The cub appeared to have grown a set of long fangs behind its incisors.
Myla whimpered. “Mother, what is it?”
“I don’t know,” said Tollee.
“Is it dead?” asked Teedo.
“I don’t know,” said Remy.
“It smells dead,” said Myla.
“I think it is dead,” whispered Itsa. “Like we are all going to be.”
Tollee rounded on her. “Don’t say that!” she hissed, but Itsa was looking out along the bank.
“Look,” she whispered. “Look at them.”
Tollee’s stomach did a sick flop. She followed Itsa’s gaze. Lumps and hillocks that she had taken for piles of mud or rock were half-covered bodies. She could see, now that she knew what to look for, the shape of an ear here, the tip of a tail there. Most were cubs or adolescents. All of them, if she watched long enough, were moving just slightly—trembling, jerking, twitching.
Tollee hoped they were dead.
Chapter 17. Hide and Hunt
Kelsy watched the curbs uneasily as he trotted behind Sauny and Valla. He had a sense of having lingered too long away from his herd and mates. Ever since that moment on the plain, after they’d come down from the council ledge and seen the corpses, Kelsy felt as though he’d been moving underwater. The sight of those still forms had brought back memories of agonized moments by the lake more than a year ago.
Kelsy remembered Faralee’s warm body—so limp as he’d tried to drag her to her feet. I kept telling her to get up. And that was the last thing she heard. Me shouting at her to get up. In that instant, Kelsy had understood what war meant, and he knew that he never wanted one.
Focus! They had run wide of Treace’s cats—back towards the cliffs and then looping northeast. The highland curbs had only a vague knowledge of this part of the forest. The ferryshaft didn’t know it at all. However, their luck held as they ran on through the trees. No one challenged them. There was no sound of yipping at their heels.
They crossed the trail of the ferryshaft herd near noon. It was easy to follow—a broad swath of broken ground and bent saplings. The going was easier after that with a clear trail and underbrush beaten flat. They ran at the fastest pace they could maintain.
Kelsy was surprised that they did not encounter any dead animals. He smelled traces of blood, and it was evident that the herd had been moving at panicked speed. He even found offal in several places, but no bodies. Did the curbs and creasia eat them so quickly? It seemed impossible. Kelsy glanced at Sauny and Valla. They were clearly focused on the goal. He thought of mentioning the strange lack of bodies, but decided to save his breath.
The sun was slipping down the sky, and the cool air had grown cold by the time they encountered the first lowland curb. They came upon the animal suddenly—a scout, perhaps. The highland curbs fell upon it before it even had time to yip. Twilight was deepening towards dusk and the snow had started to stick by the time they encountered the second curb. They killed that one, too, but it had a companion. Kelsy caught a glimpse of the second curb darting away through the trees.
Eyal turned to Sauny and Valla. They were all panting from their long run. “I think we’re close,” began Sauny. “I smell the lake, and I think—”
“Agreed,” cut in Eyal. “We’ll go after that curb, try to kill it before it finds its companions. In all likelihood, we will fail, and they will be after us. I suggest we split up. You go find your herd. We will distract the curbs and any creasia who join them.”
“Thank you,” said Valla. “Be careful, Eyal.”
He gave a flash of teeth, and the curbs were gone.
Kelsy could smell the lake, too…and something else. Feces? Frightened animals? “We should get off the trail,” he said aloud, but he let Sauny take the lead, due east, angling away from the trail of the ferryshaft herd and straight towards the lake. They came out of the trees just as the first series of excited yips reverberated through the wood behind them.
Kelsy felt his heart begin to pound. Sauny and Valla struck out south along the lake, since that was the direction the herd had been going. Kelsy blinked. Up ahead, one of the little islands near shore was…glowing.
Sauny and Valla saw it, too. “What in the deeps?” murmured Sauny.
“It looks like acriss,” said Valla.
“It does.” Sauny’s voice sounded strained. “Do you think—?
”
And then there was a snarl behind them. Without pausing to look back, all three of them broke into a full gallop. Kelsy felt a sharp ache in his muscles—sore from a long day of running—but he ignored it. They tore along the edge of the lake at top speed in the last of the fading light. We can’t keep this up for long.
But it didn’t matter, because the breeze shifted, and he caught the scent of the ferryshaft herd—massive and earthy, complex with sweat and fear. On that glowing island…
Kelsy risked a backwards glance. Their pursuers were not as close as he’d feared. The island drew nearer. Without pausing to consult the others, Kelsy veered sideways and launched himself into the lake. He hit the water paddling furiously. An instant later, he heard a splash behind him and knew that Sauny and Valla had followed.
I’m coming Remy, Teedo, Itsa. I’m coming. Even if I’m only coming to die with you.
* * * *
Treace was stunned. He stood in the largest of the ancient caves that had been den to creasia kings time-out-of-mind. He’d expected to fight a battle here—a bloody, difficult battle, but he’d expected to win. His cats—lean and young and fierce—paced around the caves, growling and muttering. They were well-rested, their blood was up, and they wanted to fight.
Treace stood in the empty cave and tried to re-order his thinking. Arcove ran away? I didn’t know he had it in him.
Not only had Arcove and his clutters run, they had taken females and cubs with them. Unbelievable! Treace had heard rumors that females fought in the battle the previous evening. Just Roup’s freakish beta, he had thought, not true females. Now, he wondered.
They even took their wounded. Or killed them. The only bodies left around the den were stiff and cold. There were quite a few of those, at least. They’re outnumbered, that’s certain.
“Sir,” growled one of his officers, “the subordinate animals… You need to speak to them.”
Treace licked his lips. They want a fight, and I don’t know where to point them. He wracked his brain. Arcove must have gone towards the cliffs. We would know if he went into the forest. But…there’s nothing for him at the cliffs! Nothing more defensible than here.
“What are the scouts reporting?” he asked aloud.
“Nothing, sir.”
Arcove’s cats are traveling with cubs and wounded. The only way they could avoid leaving a blood trail would be…
Treace spun around. He could feel the comforting warmth of the hot spring even from this distance—a spring he’d hoped would be his own. The snow drifted down serenely. Of course. It’s what I would do.
“They went in the hot springs,” said Treace flatly.
“Sir…?”
“They walked out under the cover of steam in the rivers that flow from the hot springs!” Treace was angry now. “They walked out practically under our noses!” He’d been sleeping less than two lengths from that stream.
His subordinate backed away. Treace shut his eyes and took a deep breath. “Rally the clutters. I’ll speak to them.”
He lingered a moment in the cave, thinking. It’s what I would do, but it’s not Arcove’s way at all. There’s something else going on here, and I’m not sure what, but it has Storm’s sneaky little hoof-prints all over it.
A strategy was forming in his mind as he trotted out of the cave and climbed up the tangle of roots, into the lower branches of the massive tree that sheltered the den. His cats were gathering below him, their eyes reflecting the red light of sunset, white teeth flashing. “Friends, we have been tricked,” began Treace. “Our former king has run from us. He and his few supporters have hidden themselves in steam and walked through our midst.”
A murmur began below him.
“Strange behavior for a king,” continued Treace. “Strange behavior for Arcove, who was known for his bravery in his younger years, but I can tell you why he did it.”
The cats below quieted.
“This has the mark of the wily ferryshaft known as Vearil,” said Treace. “This is not Arcove’s plan at all, friends. He has made a bargain with the ferryshaft to save himself. What do you suppose he has promised them in exchange for their help? Half a dozen cubs every spring? Half a hundred?”
The murmur below rose to snarls and roars.
“The ferryshaft leader, Charder, was also here last we knew,” continued Treace. “I will give you these beasts as your food animals. Arcove would give them to you as your masters. Which do you prefer?”
“We are with you!” roared one of the cats below. “We have always been with you!”
“Death to cowards!” shouted one.
“Death to ferryshaft and their allies!”
“In addition,” continued Treace over the racket, “Arcove has encouraged our females to behave unnaturally—fighting with males, carrying their cubs away from their dens. This will result in fewer mates for everyone. It will result in fewer cubs. This cannot be tolerated!”
Some of the cats below were already racing off in the direction of the hot springs. Treace jumped down from the tree. “We hunt!” he cried. “And what we catch, we kill!”
Chapter 18. Choose
Storm had hoped that they would reach Kuwee Island before dark, but they were still quite a ways out when dusk began to settle on the landscape. Arcove’s creasia were flagging. The snow had begun to pile up, and the air felt icy on partially wet skin. For a time after they left the stream, Storm worried that the water had been too high a price to pay for escape. Those who could not run to get warm fell behind first. Some of the wounded died. The cubs under three were not able to sustain the pace, but they grew cold when they were carried. Storm insisted that Teek run from time to time, but he could tell that the cub was exhausted.
And we still have to cross the Igby.
Once they reached the big river, Arcove elected to run east towards the lake along its bank, rather than cross immediately. Storm suspected that he intended to cross at the delta, where the water was shallowest. It would make their entire journey a little longer, but it would avoid the brutal swim that would otherwise claim many of his followers.
As darkness fell, Storm began to imagine that he could hear wailing creasia rally cries behind them. How long will it take Treace to realize he’s been tricked? How long to realize where we’ve gone? Once Treace figured it out, Storm had no doubt that he would come after them more quickly than they could run away. He’s not traveling with cubs and wounded, and his cats are the youngest males in Leeshwood.
Storm was surprised, as he jogged along in the dark, to find Arcove suddenly beside him—a shadow of a shadow. The moon was peeking over the cliffs behind them—nearly full and yellow as a cat’s eye. “Is that your luck or mine?” asked Storm.
Arcove chuffed. “We may need both tonight.” He hesitated. “Walk with me a moment.”
Storm felt uncertain, but he angled away from the group, into the edge of the trees. “Do you want us dead?” asked Arcove.
Storm thought it was a strange question, considering the circumstances. “If I did, I wouldn’t be out here.”
“You want peace?” asked Arcove. “No more raids? And creasia still alive on Lidian?”
Do I want peace without revenge? That’s what you’re asking me.
“Yes,” said Storm. He was surprised that the answer came so easily.
“Because of the cub?” asked Arcove.
“Yes,” he said again, although the real answer was more complicated.
He could feel Arcove’s eyes studying him in the darkness. Storm kept his own eyes on the ground ahead. “I can’t see as well as you can,” he ventured after a moment. “Can we get back out from under the trees before I trip on a root?”
Arcove ignored his request. “Roup will probably ask you what happened in Syriot…and afterward. If you want what you claim, don’t tell him. Never tell anyone. Will you promise me that?”
Storm did peer at him, then, but there was nothing to see. Even the reflection of his green eyes wa
s lost in darkness with the moon shining behind him. “Are you…alright?” asked Storm. Are you already sick again?
“Yes or no?” persisted Arcove.
“I won’t tell him,” said Storm. “I can’t vouch for what Sauny will do, and Charder—”
“I’ve already spoken with Charder,” said Arcove. “I would appreciate it if you would talk to your sister.” Then he was gone, gliding back into the light of the hunter’s moon as it rose above the cliffs.
* * * *
Tollee thought that the elders had made a decision. She did not know what. She did not care. She had decided that, at noon tomorrow, when most of the creasia were napping, she would try for one of the small islands. She would take Myla, and if they died, so be it. Her friends did not agree with her. Remy was unwilling to risk Teedo’s likely death. Itsa flatly refused to go into the water after seeing the things along the shore.
“What if they’re in the lake?” she asked. “What if they can swim? What if there are more lishties?”
“They don’t seem very mobile,” replied Tollee carefully. “I think lishties prefer sea water, and we don’t even know whether the dead cats can hurt us.”
“Did you see the fangs on that cub?” demanded Itsa. “I think it could have come after us if it had wanted to. I think it’s guarding the edge of the island.”
They quarreled on and off as they tried to find food for themselves and their foals. There was still enough forage without risking the carnivorous plants at the center of the island. But if we’re here for more than a few days, we’ll strip this place clean, thought Tollee. We have to run now, before we grow weak with hunger, before we start fighting with each other over food.
Moro came at dusk. This time, he brought eight creasia, and they herded the ferryshaft together around the clearing. Tollee told herself that she would not watch. She was glad that Myla was too small to see over the backs of those in front of her.
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