The mountain draak were smaller than those commonly seen in the flatlands and marshes, but they were faster and therefore far more dangerous. The scarcity of gensvolf also made Poco nervous, for the long-legged carnivore seldom abandoned an area unless the game was gone, or unless something far more dangerous than they drove them off.
The shadowed forest floor was springy with years of fallen leaves and layers of moss. As Poco walked, she could not help but wonder how many men, if any, had ever passed that way. As far as she knew there were no man settlements north of the Reaches. Man eventually might enter the strange brooding forest, she knew, but until he tamed the land he already held, he would probably leave such places to draak—and to whatever other creatures lurked in its shadowed valleys.
Dhal came up from behind. “Everything all right?”
Poco glanced at Taav, who was walking just ahead of her. “If you mean Taav, he is doing fine. If you mean me, I’m feeling edgy—and lonely.”
Dhal dropped his arm around her shoulders. “I’m here, Poco, and Screech and Gi. You certainly are not alone.”
“I know. It’s just this place, the trees, and the shadows. They seem to go on forever. We climb and climb and everything seems to stay the same. I am beginning to wonder if this mountain has a top.”
“It does,” he assured her with a smile, “and we will find it.”
“And when we reach the top? What then?” she asked.
Dhal’s smile faded. “We look for Jjaan-bi.”
“What if we don’t find it?”
Dhal looked at her; his face was a study in resolution. “We have to find it, Poco! Either we find Jjaan-bi, or we will have to try the world gate again.”
Screech chose the base of a large, climbable aban tree for their night camp. Following a supper of wild root stew and hot rayil tea, Gi and Screech refilled the water flagons from the small stream they had been following for three days. Poco and Dhal sorted through the wildland foods they had gathered along the trail. They had been lucky in their daily search for food, though Poco was growing tired of nabob root and clingor-vine soup; both were too bitter for her taste.
She sat with her back against the aban tree and closed her eyes, dreaming of draak steak and boiled nida and a tall glass of wine. In the past few days she had also developed a craving for jarri, a hard, crystal candy with a soft mint center, imported from Amla-Bagor.
Poco heard Dhal speak to Screech and Gi-arobi, who had just returned from the stream. She opened her eyes and looked at the derkat.
“Did you see anything, Screech?” she asked aloud.
He shook his head.
“Dhal, don’t you think it odd that we have not been bothered by any gensvolf since we entered the mountains?” Poco asked.
Dhal looked up. “Odd, yes, but explainable, I think. Draak and gensvolf both hunt the same game. With the number of draak we have seen these past few days, I would say that the gensvolf have sought a better hunting territory, where there is less competition for food.”
Poco glanced at the silent forest surrounding them; she continued to feel that they were being watched, a feeling that her companions had begun to share.
Night closed in. The forest was still but for the tiny rustling noises made by small night creatures. The snapping of a branch startled Poco. She opened her eyes and saw Screech adding branches to the fire.
“Awake, Poco?” Dhal asked.
She turned and saw him watching her from across the fire. His eyes reflected the gold of the flames. His expression betrayed his thoughts—he too was worried about the watchers.
Poco shivered in the chill of the night air. “How many do you think are out there, Dhal?”
He hesitated a moment. “More than one, less than twenty,” he answered.
They had discussed the watchers earlier that day. Dhal thought that the watchers might be men from the Reaches, out hunting—but if they were men, why had they not made their presence known?
Screech returned to his place beside Poco and signed to Dhal. “Best to keep double watch tonight.”
Dhal nodded. “Will you and Gi take fire watch, Screech?”
“Yes.”
“Screech, do you think those who watch us could be derkat?” Poco asked.
“No. I would smell them.”
“You don’t smell the watchers?”
“Smell them, yes,” he answered. “Draak smell, but not draak.”
Poco shook her head. “They smell like draak, but they are not draak; they number as many as twenty, yet they leave no tracks. What are we dealing with?”
“Whoever or whatever they are, I believe they are intelligent,” Dhal said. “And they are not about to let themselves be seen until they think the time is right.”
“Do you think they could be Ni?”
“Anything is possible, Poco. I just hope that if and when they decide to introduce themselves, they will do it peacefully.”
He glanced at Taav, who sat with his back to the fire staring out into the darkness. Poco followed the direction of Dhal’s gaze and felt a strange foreboding enter her heart as she looked at Taav.
Taav’s awareness of the watchers was disquieting. Until two days before he had shown little interest in his surroundings and had followed passively wherever his companions had led. But something had changed. Twice he had left the trail without warning, striking out in a direction that would take him back toward the foothills. Poco and Dhal had not thought too much about the occurrence the first time it happened, believing Taav had simply seen a bird or something that had caught his attention; but after chasing him down a third time, they had decided that Taav’s strange behavior was related somehow to the watchers, whoever or whatever they were.
“I wonder what he sees out there?” Poco said softly.
“With his eyes he can see no more than we can,” Dhal replied. “But I think he is using more than his eyes at the moment.”
“What do you mean?”
“Poco, I am firmly convinced that Taav is what Retath called a Sensitive and I believe that his special talent may lie in perceiving things that are invisible to others.”
“Such as world gates?” Poco suggested.
“Yes.” Dhal looked at the atich-ar. “Taav may not actually be able to see those who watch us, but I would bet that he could tell us something about them if we could get him to sign to us again.”
Poco shook her head. If only the derkat had not frightened him; if only she had the time to stop and work with him. She felt frustrated at her inability to reach Taav.
Gi patted her arm.
“Want something, Gi?” Poco asked, looking down.
“Poco sing?” he asked.
She smiled at him. “You never get enough, do you?”
“I think he has a good idea, Poco,” Dhal said. “Sing us a song. Perhaps you can take Taav’s mind off whoever is out there. Who knows, once they hear you sing they might like it so much that they will come visiting.”
Poco frowned. “Either that or they will start throwing rocks at us.”
“Sing,” Screech signed. “Make you feel better.”
Poco yielded. “What would you like to hear, Gi?”
“Sing song about Galen running, yes,” he answered.
Poco nodded. “Galen on the Run” was an old seafaring Song which had twelve verses and a hand-clapping chorus. She sang the first verse, then warned everyone that they were to help her with the chorus.
Screech kept the beat with his hands and hummed along as Dhal and Gi-arobi joined her in singing. By the time they had reached the seventh verse, Gi was up and dancing, his hopping so comical that Poco was having a hard time not laughing. The only one who seemed not to be enjoying himself was Taav, who still sat with his back to them. For once Poco’s singing did not reach him.
Suddenly he stood up and ran off into the darkness.
Screech was the first to move. He cleared the fire in one bound and was lost to sight a moment later.
D
hal grabbed up a lighted branch with one hand, his sword with the other. “Come on, Poco! No one stays behind!” he cried. “Gi! Stay with us!”
Following Dhal’s example, Poco scooped up Screech’s sword and another burning branch, then she and Gi-arobi headed into the darkness. Somewhere ahead Dhal was calling to Screech, warning him to be careful. Soon she saw the flickering light of his crude torch.
“I have lost them,” Dhal said, as she came running up.
Together they listened, straining to hear any sounds that would tell them which way Screech and Taav had gone.
Poco looked down. “Gi? Gi, where are you?”
The olvaar did not answer her call.
“He was just ahead of me, Dhal,” Poco said.
Dhal loosed a whistle that carried high and clear. Gi’s trilling whistle answered immediately.
Dhal turned toward the sound. “This way, Poco! Follow me and stay close!”
Poco silently cursed Taav as she jogged behind Dhal’s shadowy figure. We should have left him where we found him, she thought.
“Something up ahead, Poco,” Dhal said. “It’s Gi—and Screech. He is down!”
A knot of fear tightened in Poco’s stomach as she ran after Dhal. A moment later she was kneeling beside Screech and holding a lighted branch close enough so Dhal could see what was wrong with the derkat.
Screech stirred. He rolled over and shook his head and struggled to sit up, but Dhal held him back.
“Lie still, Screech,” Dhal said. “Let me see what is wrong. No! Lie still!”
Screech growled but settled back onto the ground. Dhal laid his hands on Screech’s head and slowly moved one hand to the back of the dekat’s neck. A minute or so passed, then Dhal withdrew his hands.
“He will be all right, Poco,” Dhal said. “He just took a knock on the back of his head. No internal bleeding. Help me get him up. We will take him back to camp.”
“What about Taav?” Poco asked.
“He is on his own for the moment. We have done enough running around in the darkness. Come morning we will see if we can find his trail, but I am afraid by then it will be too late.”
“You think the watchers have him?”
“Taav didn’t knock Screech down, Poco. Whoever did it probably has Taav now.”
The thought of the gentle, passive Taav in the hands of the mysterious watchers made Poco feel guilty. “We should have watched him closer—tied him up.”
“It’s too late to start thinking about that now, Poco,” Dhal said. “Taav is gone and the only thing we can do now is try to find his trail in the morning.”
“Do you think we can?”
“I don’t know. It will depend upon Screech and whether or not he feels up to it,” Dhal answered.
Screech growled an affirmative.
The fire had died down by the time they returned to camp, but they could see that things were not as they had left them.
Dhal swore. “Damn them! They have taken our packs!”
Poco built up the fire while Dhal investigated.
“Food, weapons, they have taken everything,” Dhal snapped. “Poco, have you still got your knife?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that means we have two swords and one knife and not much else. I wish I knew who the watchers are.” Dhal turned to the derkat. “Screech, did you get a look at them?”
“No. They fell on me from above.”
“How many?” Dhal asked.
“Two. They ran when they heard you coming.”
“Did you hear them speak? Did they make any kind of noises?”
“No.”
“Gi, did you see—” Dhal looked around quickly, realizing that they were missing someone besides Taav. “Gi?”
Remembering the last time she had seen the olvaar, Poco plucked another branch from the fire and started back the way they had come.
Dhal caught her by the arm. “No, Poco, come back to the fire.”
“But Gi is still out there!”
Dhal looked at her, a worried expression on his face. “I know,” he said softly. “But there is nothing we can do in the dark. We will just have to wait for him to come back. Gi is smart. He won’t let himself be caught.”
“What could he be doing?”
“If I know Gi, he has decided to do some investigating on his own. If he is careful, he may just discover who these watchers are,” Dhal said.
Poco felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. And if he isn’t careful, she thought, we will have to rescue two instead of one. Damn it, Gi! Why didn’t you stay with us?
Chapter 19
POCO WOKE TO A HAND ACROSS HER MOUTH. “Wake up, Poco,” Dhal whispered urgently. “Gi is back.”
Poco opened her eyes and saw Dhal leaning over her.
She nodded and sat up as he drew away his hand. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the murky half-light of morning.
She saw Gi-arobi and reached out to brush a hand over the top of his head. “Are you all right, Gi?”
Gi whistled softly, reassuringly.
Dhal cautioned Poco to keep her voice low. “Gi says there are watchers all around us now.”
“Did he find out who they are?” she whispered.
“He says they have the form of man or Ni and they dress in draak hide.”
“Did you get close enough to hear them speak, Gi?” Poco asked.
“No,” Gi answered. “If draakmen speak, Gi not hearing it.”
“How many are there?” she asked.
“Many hand counts, yes.”
Dahl spoke. “Gi, did you see what kind of weapons they carry?”
Gi bobbed his head. “Long knives, some. Also hitting sticks.”
“Did you see Taav?” Poco asked.
Gi shook his head. “Looking but not seeing.”
Screech walked around behind Dhal. The derkat had been pacing restlessly, his attention on the nearby trees and bushes.
Poco turned to Dhal. “What do we do?”
“Wait until it gets lighter; then if they don’t come to us, Screech will have to try and find Taav’s trail.”
“If he cannot?”
“Either we go on without Taav, or we sit down and wait until the draakmen get tired of hiding and decide to make their presence known.”
They chose to wait. But when the shadowed light under the trees finally showed glints of sunshine, Dhal signaled Screech that it was time to go. “No sense in waiting any longer,” he said. “If there is any finding to be done, it looks like we have to do it.”
Screech growled softly. His tail twitched back and forth with impatience.
Poco and Dhal trusted to the keener senses of their two furred companions to warn them of danger, but as they walked along, they kept an eye on the branches overhead, remembering that Screech had been attacked from above.
Twice Screech crouched close to the ground, sniffing for Taav’s scent. The second time, he turned and signed that he had lost the atich-ar’s trail.
“Stay where you are,” he told them. “I will circle.”
Gi, Dhal, and Poco drew close together and stood quietly watching as the derkat walked a wide arc ahead of them. Screech widened the pattern, extending his search until he moved out of sight around a large clump of bushes near two aban trees.
Suddenly a derkat cry of rage filled the air. Dhal, Poco, and Gi ran toward the place where they had seen Screech last.
Poco swore. “Damn it! I knew we should have stayed together!”
A few seconds later they pushed through the barrier of branches and came upon a scene neither would ever forget: Screech was rolling on the ground, claws and teeth tearing at the vine which covered him.
The six men who controlled the netting, if men they were, were having a hard time holding down the derkat. The strangers wore leggings and sleeveless tunics made of tanned draak hide; their masklike head coverings, which obscured all but their mouths and lower jaws, were also made of hide.
“They are un
armed, Poco!” Dhal cried, as he started forward. “Use your sword!”
There was no time for thought. Poco followed Dhal as he closed on the draakmen.
Poco raised her sword and came up behind one of the draakmen holding Screech, but before she could strike, something dropped in front of her, knocking her sword ddwn. That blur of motion solidified into another of the draakmen, armed with a stout branch that he whirled in front of her face.
Ducking, Poco lashed out at the draakman’s legs. He stepped to the left and blocked her sword with his staff. The thunk of metal against wood was audible even above Screech’s yowling.
Fingers stinging with the shock of the counterblow, Poco jumped backward as her opponent aimed a blow at her side. She brought her sword up to a guard position, trying to ignore the hideous mask as she concentrated on the staff the draakman wielded so dexterously.
Out of the corner of her eye, Poco saw that Dhal was having a similar problem—only doubled! She danced back a few steps to give herself a moment’s breathing space. Her opponent followed, his staff flipping from hand to hand and always before him, ready to block her next thrust.
Gi whistled a warning just as the draakman facing Poco lifted his voice in a high fluting call that brought more reinforcements.
A moment later Poco was grabbed from behind. Recalling some tactics she had learned from one of her friends on the docks, she stamped down on the draakman’s foot. He grunted in pain but did not let go. Poco doubled over and drew the draakman off balance, then twisted out of his hold.
She turned just as the first draakman came at her from the side to hit her on the left shoulder with his staff. She cried out and fell to the ground, pain lancing through her chest and neck. She felt herself sliding into a darkened world and fought to remain conscious.
Her next awareness was of a solid weight sitting on her back. She tried to roll over, but failed to dislodge the draakman who straddled her body. One of the draakmen picked up her sword. Another went past her to help with the net holding Screech.
As she was hauled to her feet, Poco saw Dhal on the ground, also a prisoner. He looked at her and for a moment she saw anger on his face; then it was gone, replaced by an alertness that told her that he was already searching for a way out.
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