Arcove did not respond.
“No…?” murmured Treace. “Well, it is puzzling to me why anyone would reject such a magnanimous offer. Did I mention you will be king on your little patch of ticks? Of course, I will require some token of your submission. You are currently hostiles in my territory. Your tails, I think. All of them. My creasia will remove them forthwith, and you may go your way. My cats may be by in the spring to shorten the tails of your new cubs, as well…assuming you survive. I wouldn’t want anyone to confuse the cats from our two Leeshwoods.”
Now the silence from Arcove’s creasia was one of shock. Charder was surprised himself. Clever, cruel, and humiliating, he thought.
Treace smiled at their stunned faces. “They say the best leaders provide an example. What will it be Arcove? A long life, and a short tail? Or a long tail, and a short life?” Treace’s voice lowered in a snarl. “Because if you don’t come forward and bend your neck to me right now, I swear we’ll kill every creasia at your back and give your bodies to the lishties.”
* * * *
Storm struggled beneath the surface of the lake. He’d gotten a few lungfuls of air at the beginning, but then his jaws closed around Quinyl’s throat, and he was determined not to let go. His hold wasn’t ideal. He couldn’t get any leverage. She had managed to end up on top, and her head kept breaking the surface despite his best efforts. He wasn’t sure how much air she was getting, but more than he was. Her sharp claws flailed, trying to open his belly whenever he fought to bring more of his body to the surface. The place where he’d fallen was very deep, so he just hung there with his eyes screwed shut as she thrashed and scratched above him.
Storm realized, gradually, that he was drowning. He had not planned to drown, but somehow he sucked in a breath of water. He almost let go of Quinyl, but then he thought of Eyal, and he did not let go.
Some part of Storm’s mind quieted in spite of his body’s desperation. I have befriended curbs and telshees and even creasia. I have flown through the air in the claws of an ely-ary. I have outwitted the greatest hunters this island has ever known. I have helped to raise two little ones, even if I did not father them. I have loved another ferryshaft, and I think that she loved me. Surely that is enough…enough of a life for anyone.
Storm was dimly aware that Quinyl’s thrashing had slowed. They were sinking together. He tried to remember how to swim. He tried to remember how to unlock his jaws, but he seemed to have forgotten both. He opened his eyes and saw the sunlight on the surface of the lake. It looked beautiful.
* * * *
Arcove took a step forward. His voice was ice-calm. “I made you a promise last fall, Treace. Do you remember what it was?”
Treace gave a disdainful sniff. The cats around him tensed.
“I said that if you did not stop making a nuisance of yourself, you’d die with my teeth in your throat,” continued Arcove. “Do you know how often I’ve broken my word, Treace?”
He wants to go down fighting, thought Charder. I can’t blame him. Charder realized that he needed to make a decision. Retreat into the cave and probably starve…or die fighting beside Arcove? He was surprised at how easily the choice came to him.
Charder stepped away from the cave’s entrance and trotted down the ramp. I suppose I am one of your officers. He saw Roup and Halvery gather themselves for the final charge.
And then Charder heard a sound that he’d never expected to hear again—the sound of an entire ferryshaft herd, howling. The noise floated up from the direction of Chelby Wood like a dream from the past. Charder knew with absolute certainty that there were not thousands of ferryshaft on Lidian. He knew, but, in that moment, he doubted. Because it sounded like thousands.
Arcove’s head snapped around. He looked west, towards the lake shore. Charder followed his gaze and saw animals running through the trees, their hooves creating an ominous, distant thunder and leaving a plume of dust farther out across the plain. Charder thought that he’d never enjoyed anything so much as the look on Arcove’s face.
Then Charder did what seemed natural. He answered the howl.
Treace’s cats, already unnerved, looked around wildly. Treace glanced back as though expecting ferryshaft to come charging out of the bushes. It was in that moment of distraction that Arcove flashed across the clearing like a descending eagle and slammed into Treace.
* * * *
When Storm opened his eyes, he saw water rippling gently against sand. He remembered the stream and the beautiful meadow where the dead played. He thought that he should rise and greet them, but he felt too tired at the moment. The world seemed very quiet. He couldn’t hear the bird song that he remembered from that place.
Then Storm noticed something about the ripples. They were tinged with crimson, and they left a dark scum on the sand in front of his nose. Someone was jostling him. All at once, the water ran out of one of his ears, and he heard a frantic voice calling his name. “Storm! Storm, please don’t be dead! Please! We’re here! We came! Please!”
Storm gagged up lake water. His head spun, and then he gulped in air. He tried to stand, but fell over and vomited again. Tollee was crouching beside him in the bloody mud. Storm saw two dead curbs and another floating in the water.
“I—” he gasped. “Quinyl—”
“I think she’s dead, Storm,” said Tollee. “If she’s the one you were choking when I dragged you out, she’s dead.”
“Said…she killed…Eyal,” gasped Storm.
“Yes,” said Tollee. “I know. I’m sorry. He’s part of the reason we’re here, though. Listen. Listen, Storm.”
Storm heard the howls, then. All over Kuwee Island and through Chelby Wood, ferryshaft were howling. He heard fighting and cats wailing, but above it all rose that strange music. Storm lay still and let Tollee lick the blood from his face and listened.
Chapter 27. Peace
Roup stumbled back into the caves around noon. Kuwee Island had been completely cleared of both enemy cats and the creatures that the ferryshaft called lishties. Treace’s corpse lay in the clearing at the top of the hill for all to see. Roup did not think Treace would awaken as a lishty. Arcove had left him in several pieces.
Many of Treace’s cats had surrendered immediately upon his death. A few—mostly his officers and those with little reason to expect mercy—had fled. Halvery had led a group of cats after them across the plain.
Most of the ferryshaft were spread out all over the island—resting or feeding or licking their wounds. Some of them had wandered down into the caves as well. Roup saw them scattered among the exhausted creasia, sleeping in the warmer air. The sight made Roup feel oddly content—as though uneasy ghosts were finally at rest.
Roup had not slept well since Arcove’s strange illness. With the battle won and Arcove apparently healthy, Roup felt unbearably exhausted, but he did not want to sleep alone. Arcove was still outside, dealing with the fallout from the battle. Caraca had been searching for Friendly last Roup saw her. Lyndi was helping to track down Treace’s remaining supporters. Roup decided he would visit his daughter, Mist, and her mate, Percil.
He found Mist alone in one of the strange, half-tumbled rooms, nursing her cubs. She asked immediately if Roup would watch them while she hunted, and Roup agreed. He curled up with the three small, warm bodies—less than a year old. They burrowed up against him, and Roup fell into dreamless sleep.
* * * *
“Remy went with Sedaron’s herd,” said Tollee, “because of Teedo. I don’t blame her, Storm. I almost sent Myla with her. I was worried about leaving her behind on the plain. She could have been killed by Treace’s cats as they fled.”
“I understand,” said Storm. They were stretched on the grass of the plain in the warm sun of late afternoon. Teek and Myla were chattering away to each other about the adventures of the last few days. Teek looked like he could hardly keep his eyes open, but the story was too good to stop telling. Storm was not pleased to hear that Teek had fought in the battle, bu
t he was impressed to learn that Shaw had saved Teek’s life. She never liked him. She threatened to kill him. Storm had tried to thank her, but Keesha wasn’t letting anyone near Shaw.
“I still can’t believe half of the herd didn’t come,” grumbled Sauny.
“I can’t believe half of them did!” said Storm. “And I’m sure that some of those ferryshaft will come back to their mates and friends once the fighting is over.”
“And some of them won’t,” said Valla. “We’re going to have two herds at least—perhaps hostile to each other.”
“I think it was like that before the creasia conquest,” said Storm.
“We’ll have three herds,” said Sauny. “Mine and Kelsy’s…and Sedaron’s.”
Storm grinned. “Are you sure you’re old enough to lead a herd, Sauny?”
“I led them into battle, didn’t I?”
“I suppose so.” Storm hesitated. “Were…were you with Eyal when…?”
“No,” said Valla. “I’m sorry, Storm. The curbs said that he gave them a message for you.” She thought for a moment. “He said, ‘Tell Storm Ela-curb that this year, borrowed from death, was the best of his years.’”
Storm swallowed. “He called me that? He called me a curb?”
“That’s what they said. They were going to howl for him, but we told them to wait for you. We thought you’d want that.”
Storm laid his head on his hooves. He felt as though the sun had dimmed a little. “He was my friend…one of the truest friends I’ve ever had. He came out of nowhere, in a place I never expected to find a friend. And I guess…I guess he left the same way.”
Tollee drew a deep breath. “Is it better to have all the bad news at once?”
Storm shut his eyes. “Who else?”
“We should probably tell you how Pathar died.”
* * * *
Roup woke at evening. Someone was standing in the doorway of the little room. Roup thought at first that it was Mist, but then the cat took a few steps inside, and Roup saw that it was Halvery. He felt a trace of apprehension. He’d not been alone with Halvery since he’d told the secret of his past with Arcove dying at his feet. He’d had a sense that Halvery wanted to say something to him, but there hadn’t been time. Now… He wouldn’t just attack me, would he?
Halvery seemed to notice that Roup was awake and came on over. His posture wasn’t aggressive, although he didn’t look comfortable, either. “I meant to say something to you after Arcove’s fight with Treace in the Great Clearing.”
Roup sighed. “Are you about to challenge me? I suppose we should get this over with.”
Halvery twitched his short tail and looked away. “No.”
Roup cocked his head. Halvery was always direct and rarely tongue-tied. “Something else wrong? Not sure you can serve under a creasia raised by ferrysh—?”
“Stop,” snapped Halvery. “I am trying to apologize.”
Roup was shocked. He waited.
“I would have died,” said Halvery. “If I had fought Treace, I would have been lured into that curb trap. No one would have started running in time to save me. Your instincts were correct, and I was…not helpful.” He took a deep breath. “Last year, when Treace and Moro were testing their traps and you and Lyndi almost died in one…you kept me out of their territory…and that probably kept me alive.”
“Halvery…” said Roup gently, but Halvery only shook his ears.
“You have been an exceedingly patient commanding officer. I had no right to behave as I did, and I’m sorry.”
There was an awkward silence. Halvery still didn’t meet Roup’s eyes. “Well…have a good evening,” he said at last. “I think Lyndi was looking for you earlier. I’ll tell her you’re in here.” He turned to go.
He’s not even going to mention the ferryshaft, thought Roup in wonder. “Halvery, wait.”
Halvery paused in the entrance and glanced back at him.
Roup took a deep breath. He started to get up, but one of the cubs mewed, and Roup settled back down with the little animal between his forepaws. “Arcove and I didn’t exclude you from our private discussions because we thought you were incompetent or disloyal. But some of the things we talked about… I probably should have told you where I came from a long time ago.”
“No,” said Halvery, “you should not have.”
“That’s what Arcove thought.”
“I would have denounced you to all of Leeshwood as a ferryshaft sympathizer,” said Halvery. “Arcove was entirely correct not to trust me with that information.”
“You thought I was a ferryshaft sympathizer anyway,” said Roup. “I was. Sometimes I still have trouble sleeping during the day.”
Halvery came back into the room. He lay down on his belly so that they were on eyelevel. “Roup, I was jealous. I admired Arcove, and I wanted him to trust me the same way he trusted you. I see now exactly how foolish and unreasonable that was. You were the only person he could trust for years, his only friend. I don’t know why I expected to get the same treatment, just because I won a few fights with council members. I was young. That’s my only excuse.”
“I knew you admired his fights,” said Roup. “I should have talked about the early ones more. I know you thought I snubbed you when you were only trying to be friendly. I was afraid I’d give myself away.”
Halvery snorted. “Do not apologize to me. You have overlooked my near-constant antagonism for years. Anyone else in your position would have fought and killed me a long time ago.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” said Roup. “Arcove always said you were an excellent officer. In any other clutter, you would have been his beta.”
Halvery laughed. “Roup, why do you think I never challenged you?”
Roup was surprised. He didn’t say anything.
“Because I didn’t really think I’d win,” said Halvery. “You were fighting, too, all those years. You learned from Arcove.”
Roup smiled. “I did. Didn’t get to win very often, though.”
They were quiet a moment. Roup found himself casting about for something else to say. He’d never had such a friendly conversation with Halvery. Before he could think of anything, Halvery said, “The two of you make beautiful cubs.” His voice held a trace of friendly sarcasm.
Roup looked down at the fluffy creatures between his front paws. “I always thought so.” He was a little surprised that Halvery remembered—Mist was Roup’s daughter and Percil was Arcove’s son. The cubs were black, but one opened its eyes, and they flashed honey gold. The cub trilled and nestled into the curve of Roup’s paw.
“I’m surprised you and Arcove don’t have more cubs in common,” said Halvery, “the way you practically den together.”
“Well, I don’t have very many,” said Roup, “and they spend so much time with Arcove’s cubs, they think they’re siblings. Except Mist and Percil, apparently.”
“How many do you have? Living, I mean.”
“Four,” said Roup immediately. “You?”
Halvery laughed. “I would have to think about it…and ask around.”
Roup gave a snort of laughter that woke one of the cubs.
“Why don’t you take Lyndi into your den?” asked Halvery abruptly.
Roup frowned. “She’s a good officer, a good beta. She has a purpose and a function in my clutter. In a den, she’s an anomaly with no purpose. Why would I do that to her?”
Halvery rolled his eyes. “Well, you might do it to make her happy.”
Roup started to say something, but Halvery spoke first. “My mates cycle through my hunting clutters when they’re available. They can be den members and run in your clutter.”
Roup felt annoyed. “Yes, but your mates aren’t officers. You don’t like Lyndi as an officer because she’s female.”
“Now there you are wrong,” said Halvery. “It’s not that she’s female. It’s that she’s in season half the time, and it’s distracting! I don’t know how you keep your mind on yo
ur business.”
Roup swallowed a laugh. “Oh, it’s not really half the time, surely.”
“Three or four times a year, anyway,” said Halvery. “Female that age, not having litters? Got to be that often at least. I’m surprised you don’t have more fights in your clutter because of it.”
“They wouldn’t be in my clutter if they were prone to fighting each other,” said Roup. “They’ve gotten used to her. She mates with a few of the lower ranking males occasionally, I think. Everyone seems happy enough.”
Halvery gave an exasperated rumble. “I realize that she’s a good beta, and I’m not suggesting you get rid of her. But what’s stopping you from taking her into your den? Don’t tell me it’s because she can’t have cubs; you care less about that than any cat I’ve ever seen. And don’t tell me it’s because she doesn’t want to, either; I’ve seen the way she looks at you.”
Roup frowned. “Caraca wouldn’t like it…”
“Caraca doesn’t like not knowing where she ranks in relation to your female beta. You’ve created an unnatural situation. If you take Lyndi into your den, she and Caraca will sort it out, I promise.” Halvery hesitated. “You’re not a ferryshaft, Roup. You don’t have to mate like one.”
Oh, I don’t, thought Roup, but you knew that. He considered a moment. “As her superior officer, it doesn’t seem right…”
Halvery snorted. “That’s funny, coming from you.”
Roup looked at him blankly, and then suddenly he laughed. “You’re correct, of course.”
Halvery snickered. “I’m what? Could you say that again? A little louder perhaps?”
Roup smiled. “But, she’s never asked…”
“Roup!” exclaimed Halvery. “She’s too proud to ask! Would you ask?”
“Probably not.”
“Well, assume that she’s a little like you. She’s got to be, otherwise she’d never put up with you.”
Roup chuffed.
“You’re grooming her for a place on the council,” said Halvery. “I know that.”
Roup shifted uneasily.
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