Taav looked up as she approached; then suddenly he was on his feet moving toward her. Screech followed— his left wrist was attached to Taav’s right by a stout piece of vine.
When Poco stopped, Taav knelt before her; he wrapped his arms around her legs and began to hum softly.
She looked from Taav to Screech, wondering what was going on. Screech signed a welcome, to which Poco nodded.
“What is this all about?” she asked Screech. “Taav acts as if he has been frightened.”
“Not frightened,” Screech said, as he untied the vine cording from Taav’s wrist.
Poco frowned. “Why the rope?”
“He tried to leave. Made humming noises, like now, and started walking. Happened twice. I tied him to keep him here. Little Fur thinks he was trying to follow you.”
Poco took Taav’s arms and pulled them apart, freeing herself. Taav stopped humming and lifted his head.
She stared down into his eyes and for a moment she thought she saw a flicker of awareness.
“Taav?” Poco reached out and brushed the hair from his forehead. “Taav, do you understand what I am saying?” She spoke in Ni, the language she suspected he knew and would use, if he chose to speak.
Taav opened his mouth, but no words were forthcoming.
“Try again, Taav,” Poco said softly. “You can do it.”
Taav did try, but the movement of his lips produced no matching sounds. His eyes filled with tears.
Poco pulled him close, comforting him as she would a child. When she looked up, Dhal was standing beside her.
“He understands, Dhal,” she said.
“So I see.”
“What are we going to do with him?”
Dhal touched the back of Taav’s head and stroked the straight, green hair. “We will have to take him with us, Poco. There is no other choice. We cannot leave him here and just hope he will be able to take care of himself.”
“I didn’t mean that.”
“What did you mean?” he asked.
“What Taav needs right now is a place to stay, somewhere quiet, where he can relearn the things he seems to have forgotten. What if we postpone our trip across the plains for a few weeks, and find a place around here where we would be safe? We could spend some time with Taav and you might even try healing him again.”
“We haven’t supplies enough to stop anywhere very long and I don’t like the thought of returning to Bannoc right away. Leaving bodies for others to bury does not make for welcome returns. I think it best we continue our journey while we can.”
“Do we leave now?” Poco asked.
“No. We will eat something, and rest a while. We can leave after supper.”
Later Poco woke to find Taav lying beside her; his eyes were open and he was watching her. She wondered if he had slept at all.
She sat up and glanced around the small glade. Nearby, Dhal was tending strips of meat that hung from a branch over the fire, and Screech was busy drawing a picture of something on the ground.
Screech dropped his stick and signed to Dhal. When Poco realized that the derkat was talking about their proposed trek across the plains, she got to her feet. Better find out what is going on, she thought.
She turned and extended her hand to Taav. “Come with me, Taav?” she asked in Ni.
Taav pushed to a sitting position and looked from her face to her hand. Poco waited, hoping that patience might accomplish what strength of will could not.
Taav timidly placed his hand in hers. She allowed herself a smile, which she quickly swallowed as Taav’s head lifted. She did not want him to think she was laughing at him.
Dhal looked up from Ssaal-lr’s dirt drawing as Poco and Taav approached. “Sleep well?” he asked.
Poco nodded and pulled gently on Taav’s hand as she sat down. “Sit, Taav. Dhal is fixing something to eat.”
Dhal and Screech watched as the atich-ar looked from face to face. Both of them sensed a change in Taav, but neither could tell what that change meant to their present situation. Was Taav going to be easier to control, or more difficult?
With her free hand, Poco signed to Screech and Dhal to go on about what they were doing. She waited a moment, then pulled on Taav’s hand a second time, silently inviting him to join her on the ground.
Free from the scrutiny of the other two, Taav sank to his knees; he did not let go of Poco’s hand as he settled back on his heels.
Ignoring Taav for the moment, Poco looked at the crude, dirt map. “Is that where we are going?” she asked.
Screech nodded and began pointing things out as he explained what obstacles they would face on the High Plains, such as, a scarcity of water until the spring rains came and a lack of cover in case of attack by gensvolf or draak. Also, there was the possibility that they would not be able to cross the plains without meeting one or two radgs of derkat.
Not long after Screech had finished describing their route, Dhal announced that supper was ready. He said, “Wake Gi, will you, Poco?”
She nodded and turned to look at the small ball of fur lying curled up beside one of their packs. She freed her hand from Taav’s grasp and reached for Gi, then noticed that Taav was watching her.
“Taav, would you like to wake Gi?” she asked in Ni.
Taav looked down at the sleeping olvaar.
“There is nothing to be afraid of, Taav,” Poco reassured him. “Gi won’t hurt you. He is a good friend. Go ahead, wake him so he can eat with us.”
Slowly Taav reached for the olvaar, his fingers extended.
“Gently now,” Poco said softly.
“Taav’s hand trembled, but he did not draw it back. Dhal and Screech watched Taav closely, ready to move quickly should the atich-ar do something that might hurt their small comrade.
Taav’s fingers brushed Gi’s back; at that soft touch the olvaar uncurled and sat up, golden eyes blinking away sleep. Taav withdrew his hand.
Gi stood suddenly, his glance darting from face to face. “What wrong?” he asked.
Dhal smiled at the olvaar’s confusion. “There is nothing wrong, Gi. It is time to eat again. Taav did not want you to miss a meal.”
Gi looked at the atich-ar, head cocked to one side. “Thanking Taav,” he said. “ Gi always hungry.”
After Poco repeated Gi’s words in Ni, Taav reached out and gently touched the top of Gi’s head.
“I think you have made another friend, Gi,” Poco said, pleased that Taav was beginning to react to those around him.
Their meal consisted of dried fruit, a handful of hiat nuts, several cups of hot rayil tea, and thin strips of roasted aybar, a heavy-breasted wild bird common to the area. Screech had caught the aybar earlier that day and had saved it for their evening meal.
They finished eating and while Poco and Screech packed their few belongings, Dhal went for the bomal. Screech slipped out of camp when Dhal whistled that he was ready with the mounts.
They decided that for the meantime Taav would ride with Dhal, and Gi-arobi with Poco. The multilayered saddles were built in a crescent shape, allowing plenty of room for two riders. They secured their packs across the saddle on the third bomal.
Dhal mounted first, and with Poco’s help he pulled Taav into the saddle in front of him. Taav leaned back against him and gripped Dhal’s arms as if he feared to fall off.
Dhal brought his right arm around Taav’s waist and pulled him close, giving the atich-ar a sense of security, and at the same time giving himself a good hold should Taav try to leave the saddle without warning.
Poco reached up and touched Taav’s arm. “You are going to be all right, Taav. Dhal will not let you fall.”
“Never mind, Poco. Let’s go. He will get used to it after a while,” Dhal said.
Poco put Gi up in the saddle first, then mounted behind him. Gi was fairly bouncing with excitement. One small furred hand latched onto Poco’s tunic sash, the other touched the reins which Poco held down in front of him.
“All set, Gi?�
� she asked.
Gi whistled an affirmative.
Poco smiled. “All right, sit down and hang on. If you get tired, let me know. Dhal has rigged a sling that will hold you safe.”
“Gi not needing sling,” the olvaar replied indignantly.
“Perhaps not,” she said, as she rubbed her thumb against Gi’s stomach. “But if you change your mind, just give a whistle.”
Gi bobbed his head, then turned to look out past the bomal’s horns. “Going now,” he said.
“Yes, now.”
The bomal were rested and set out at a good lope. They left the valley and turned north, following the trail of broken branches left by Ssaal-lr.
Several hours later their pace had slowed. Night shadows grew long as they left the rolling hills and tree-shaded valleys behind to enter a land of grassy swells. The scarcity of trees bothered Poco at first, but after a while, when her fear of a draak looming out of the tall grass failed to become a reality, she began to relax and listen to the sounds around her, the swish-swish of grass as the bomal cleared a path, the trill and chirping of small insects she could not name. The air was different too, warmer and drier, lulling the senses.
Poco turned and looked at Dhal. They had been riding side by side for some time and had not spoken five words to each other. She thought Dhal’s eyes looked heavy and wondered if he had slept at all that afternoon. Taav seemed easier in the saddle, but Poco was not sure if that was due to acceptance or simple exhaustion.
“Is everything all right?” she asked, catching Dhal’s eyes.
Dhal nodded. “My arms are getting tired but he is quiet.”
“How much longer do we ride?” Poco asked.
“Screech will find us a place to camp. We will stop when we catch up with him,” Dhal answered.
“What about the bomal?”
“They should be all right as long as Screech keeps his distance. They may smell his scent in the air, but I do not think they will panic unless he comes close.”
“I don’t like us to get too far apart. There is safety in numbers.”
“Don’t worry,” Dhal assured her. “Screech will stay as close as he dares.” He paused. “He loves you very much, you know.”
Poco smiled. “Jealous?”
Dhal looked at her, his face sober. “Yes, sometimes.”
Poco was surprised that Dhal had taken her teasing seriously. She reached over and put a hand on his arm.
“I love you, Dhal, more than anyone I have ever loved before. I love Screech too, but it is a different kind of love. Should I be jealous of the love you feel for Gi?”
Dhal glanced at the olvaar, who was fast asleep in the saddle. “No,” he said. “I guess I am just being foolish.”
Poco smiled again. “Foolish I can deal with. Jealous, I can’t.”
Chapter 10
POCO LOOKED UP AT THE HEAD-HIGH GRASS THAT SURROUNDED their camp; it was brown and brittle and had a tangy, grain smell. As soon as the spring storms came, the old grass would succumb to high winds and torrential rains, and that which was brown and dead would spring to life again, green upon green until land and sky merged together in a haze of new color.
Taav retrieved his blanket from the pile of saddles and packs, and crossed the trampled grass of their campsite. He unrolled his blanket next to Poco’s and sat down, ready to begin his evening lesson.
Poco looked past Taav and saw Dhal sitting astride one of the bomal. He was checking the surrounding territory; from the ground, it was often impossible to see out over the top of the grass.
They were three weeks out of Bannoc and as far as they could tell, they had not been followed. They had also been lucky not to run afoul of any of Ssaal-lr’s kin, though they had seen signs of their passing. Ssaal-lr, who still ranged ahead of them each day, had cautioned them to remain alert at all times, for the occasional great swaths of trampled grass were signs that the derkat radgs were on the move in that territory.
Their trek thus far had been a lonely one, but Poco did not complain, for they finally had a respite from the tensions of being hunted. As minds and bodies began to relax, both she and Dhal had turned their attention to Taav, whose progress so far had been gratifying. As his mental reactions grew sharper by the day, Poco could not help but feel that they had made the right choice in bringing him along.
She looked at Taav and smiled. “Avto, friend, Taav,” she signed. Though Dhal believed that Taav would be able to speak eventually, he thought it wise to have Poco teach Taav the rudiments of signing so he could begin to communicate.
As Poco began the night’s lesson, she noticed that Taav’s face, arms, and legs were dirty. His clothes were little better, with food and grass stains vying for attention over several large holes in his pants at thigh and knee. He also had lost the lacing at the neck of his tunic.
Poco shook her head, realizing that she was not much cleaner. They all needed a bath, and time enough to spend a day washing and drying their clothes. There were times when she wondered if her life would ever again take on a semblance of order.
Poco returned to the job at hand and went over some of the easier hand signs, watching as Taav imitated the movements. She repeated the signs she had taught him the last few nights, then put several words together to form a sentence. She spoke as she signed, reenforcing the signing by sound; the language was always Ni.
“Where is Dhal?” she signed.
Taav turned and looked behind him. “Dhal horned ones,” Taav responded, meaning Dhal was with the bomal.
Poco nodded. “That is right. Where is Gi?”
“Gi go derkat.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Take food derkat.”
Poco smiled, pleased with Taav’s answers, for they proved that he was thinking, and that he did understand the signs he was learning.
Dhal finished hobbling the bomal and joined them. Poco moved over on her blanket, offering him a seat beside her.
Dhal signed to Taav as he sat down. “May I join you?”
Taav frowned, not understanding.
“You signed too fast, Dhal,” Poco explained.
“Sorry,” Dhal said.
“Never mind. Do you want to practice with us?” she asked.
“Yes. I still do not understand half of what Screech says when he signs,” Dhal answered.
Poco started with action verbs, signing and explaining at the same time. She then suggested they play a game where Dhal and Taav took turns pointing at something; she would name it using sign language.
The derkat used body language and sounds, such as coughs and growls, to reenforce their signing; so acquiring a good command of the derkat language was something that required a lot of practice. Sometimes the signing grew quite complicated and both Dhal and Taav became confused.
Poco touched Taav’s arm, drawing his attention from Dhal, who was practicing the sign for danger and adding symbols for draak, gensvolf, and storm.
“Taav happy speaking with his hands?” she signed.
Taav hesitated, as if thinking it over; then slowly his fingers moved in answer to the question. “I happy speaking hands.” No smile attended his words.
She looked at him, wondering if the atich-ar even understood what happiness was. What thoughts lay behind the waiting expectancy she saw in his eyes?
Suddenly Taav lifted his hands and signed to her. “Shadow talker... talk me?”
Poco repeated the words in her mind, trying to make sense out of the message.
Dhal’s voice broke into her thoughts. “What did he call you? I missed the first symbol.”
Poco frowned. “The first symbol was shadow, the second was talker or singer. Shadow singer, sing me. Is that what you wanted to say, Taav?”
The atich-ar nodded and pointed at her. He then opened his mouth, and moved his fingers in the symbol for sound.
“I think he is asking you to sing, Poco,” Dhal said.
She nodded. “I know, but where does he get Shadow Singer from?�
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Dhal shrugged. “Maybe that is the way he thinks of you.”
Another thought occurred to Poco, one she was reluctant to voice. The last two times she had sung to Taav, he had become so caught up in her singing that he had slipped into a trance.
“Poco, what is wrong?” Dhal asked.
“I think that I will have to be careful about the songs I sing when Taav is listening.”
“What do you mean? He likes to hear you sing. So do I. It has been a week since you last sang.”
“And do you remember what happened that night?” she asked.
Dhal glanced at Taav. “You put him to sleep if I remember right.”
“Taav was not asleep, Dhal. He was in a trance of some kind, a trance caused by my singing. When I went to say good night to him, he was lying there with his eyes open. The moving shadows I saw in his eyes mirrored the words of the last song I had sung. I had to slap him to bring him out of it.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
Poco shook her head. “I don’t know. I should have. It has happened twice now. Once, before we reached Bannoc, that day Taav and I spent several hours up in that tree; then again last week. I told you about the first time.”
“Yes. I remember now.”
“He is like an empty slate, Dhal. I can draw my songs on his mind and see the results in his eyes. No one else has ever been affected that way.”
“I have seen your chalk pictures live, Poco,” Dhal said.
“Yes, but I have never put you into a trance!”
“Perhaps we are both reacting to your singing, but in different ways. I told you once before that I thought your songs were a form of Ni energy.”
Taav was becoming impatient with all the talk. He reached out and touched Poco’s arm. “Sing me?”
“Go ahead,” Dhal said. “Sing him a song. He would not ask if it bothered him.”
“What if I put him into a trance again?” she asked.
“What if you do? He came out of it all right each time.” Dhal smiled. “Come on, sing us a song.”
Poco shook her head in defeat. “All right, something light then.”
She searched her memory for a song that she hoped would entertain without bringing her special gift into play. She chose a rousing dock song with a repeating chorus which Dhal joined her in singing. Taav clapped his hands in time to the beat, enjoying the song even if he could not sing.
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