Seeds of Earth

  the epicentre of that deadly retaliation but she had to

  armour her mind against grief and focus on how to snare

  the other Ezgara and keep him alive ... then something

  came back to her, an image caught by her Enhanced-cre-

  ated perfect recall - the bright heat that flared in the

  bound Ezgara's mouth, and the way the skin of his neck

  and upper chest split along white-hot lines. She recalled

  that instant before the vithni link broke, the intense con-

  centration in the man's face, the relentless effort - if these

  Ezgara could trigger that self-destruction at will, then

  their remaining quarry would have to be subdued

  quickly then rendered unconscious before a second oblit-

  eration could take place.

  Listener Josu was waiting for her on the meeting

  branch of a small harvest town called Sweetseed - it was

  really four large branches interwoven over a pool, plat-

  formed with mats and decorated with fragrant blooms

  and flowering creepers. The townsfolk stayed out of

  sight, except for an elder Scholar who brought cups of

  emel juice on a tray for them both then went back inside.

  'We have stayed our hand as you instructed,

  Pathmistress,' Josu said. 'Are the intruders more dan-

  gerous than you thought? We heard a loud explosion.'

  Cat explained what she had seen and what she knew,

  about which Josu was initially sceptical until one of

  Okass's scholars arrived to report the tragedy. Seven

  Uvovo were dead, including Listener Okass, and when

  questioned he confirmed Cat's account, his words

  emphasised by his wounds.

  'We must take this other one alive,' Cat said, even as

  doubt gnawed at her. Seven dead, from my negligence. 'It

  is vital that we find out the Hegemony's intentions, even

  if it's only the wee bit that a soldier might know, and I

  want to know more about these Ezgara - if they're

  Human, we've got to find out where they're from.'

  'They have fearsome strength, Pathmistress,' said the

  young scholar. 'How can we overcome the other one?'

  Nodding, Cat turned to Listener Josu. 'We cannot

  afford to have him conscious when we capture him. He

  must be put to sleep quickly.'

  'A powder for breathing or a liquid for under the skin?'

  said Josu.

  'A powder might affect those restraining him,' Cat

  said. 'So, a liquid - do you have something in mind?'

  Josu smiled. 'Ortka root - it is common to this area

  and its core sap is easy to extract. For the Uvovo it

  relaxes the muscles and thoughts but for Humans it is a

  mind-taker.'

  'And how quickly does it act?'

  'I once saw a Human treated with it, an elder female

  who had injured herself while travelling far away in

  Segrana - it took effect in four, perhaps five heartbeats.'

  Cat nodded. 'Well, this guy is young, fit and well-

  trained, so have several doses prepared.'

  After that they moved swiftly on from Sweetseed,

  Listener Josu racing ahead to organise the gathering of

  the ortha while the young scholar returned to his injured

  comrades and Cat progressed at the trictra's more sedate

  speed, a tense anxiety thrumming in her neck and shoul-

  ders. The further the hunt moved away from the site of

  the explosion, the more forest creatures were out and

  about foraging or engaged in hunts of their own.

  Focusing her mind on the bond with Segrana, her senses

  widened and spread outwards, showing her glimpses of

  what Segrana saw, the sounds she heard, and other sen-

  sations for which taste and smell were only

  approximations. Just as she could still feel the deathpain

  of the Uvovo killed by the Ezgara self-destruct and the

  sorrow of the others' loss, she could also sense the

  second Ezgara, his passage through the green weave of

  forest-floor undergrowth, his relentless, crushing pace.

  Segrana knew, felt him journeying through her but she

  needed Catriona to look, to see, to find and not to yield.

  Thus Cat caught flashes of him in the gloom with

  the eyes of a bird or a reptile or a baro, his speed slow-

  ing gradually, since he probably reckoned that he had

  outstripped his pursuers. By now, Cat had caught up

  with the body of Josu's scholars, who deferred to her

  with a reverential attitude she didn't feel was justified,

  yet she was too preoccupied to make a show of disap-

  proval. Then Listener Josu arrived with two local

  Listeners, one short, one tall, both Of them wizened

  but wiry. Also he brought three cloth pouches, each

  containing four reed stalks, their tips sharpened, fire-

  hardened and soaked in gleaming ortha sap. These he

  gave to three trusted scholars with the instruction that

  the intruder be struck on his bare skin with three

  stalks. Then he introduced the two locals to Cat - the

  tall one was called Gruanu, the short one Hiskaja -

  and pointed out that they knew of an ideal place for an

  ambush. Cat listened, questioned them and Josu,

  thought on it for a moment or two and gave her assent.

  'Don't forget, Josu,' she said. 'We need this one alive.'

  'This we understand, Pathmistress.'

  Half an hour later, the final moves of the pursuit were

  played out among the shadowy trees that clustered near

  the foot of a sheer, mossy cliff. In the murky gloom,

  groups of Uvovo converged on the Ezgara's position

  only to veer off or retreat, feints meant to distract or

  startle. Then another group made their way from

  branch to branch overhead, moving above the intruder,

  prompting him to open fire - when he did so, they

  dropped nets full of leaves, small forest creatures and

  even a pagma nest or two to confuse him while the

  Uvovo on the ground started racing towards him from

  all directions.

  Realising the danger, he swung his autorifle down

  and fired off an arc of razor splines, not seeing the pair

  of Uvovo swinging down out of the branches. They

  crashed onto his shoulders and knocked him to the

  ground. He twisted as he fell, lower arms producing

  blades that hacked and stabbed, slashing one Uvovo

  open diagonally from shoulder to hip while the other

  rolled and ducked out of range.

  He had barely got to his feet when two more Uvovo

  burst up out of the ground and ran at him, dragging

  between them a rope that hooked his feet from under

  him. He fell, arms flying wide, and one daring Uvovo

  lunged in with a weighted sticky net, tangled it around

  the Ezgara's weapon and wrenched it out of his grasp.

  After that it was almost a free-for-all with most of the

  Uvovo diving on the intruder, trying to tie up his limbs

  and subdue him.

  Cat had guided her trictra onto a tree branch over-

  head and watched as they bound up his artificial lower

  arms then pulled off the helmet and armoured jacket,

  coping as swiftly as they could with unfamiliar clips and

  fastenings. As soon as the man's n
eck and chest were

  uncovered, two of the pouch-carriers came in close, the

  third lying wounded off in the dark. Three drugged

  reeds punctured the man's skin, then everyone hurriedly

  retreated to watch from about 20 feet away. The Ezgara,

  who was definitely Human, writhed and struggled

  against his bonds but his movements quickly slowed

  until only his head was moving, sluggishly shaking from

  side to side as if in denial, his mutters slurring and even-

  tually falling silent, motionless.

  Then began the wait. Cat knew that it had taken

  roughly five minutes from the point when the first

  Ezgara was captured to his self-destruction, so she was

  determined to let fifteen minutes elapse this time. Silence

  fell in the darkening jungle, abandoned by larger crea-

  tures chased away by the violent confrontation. At last,

  when the vigil was over, Listener Josu approached cau-

  tiously while Cat directed her trictra down to the forest

  floor. A couple of the Uvovo brought out ineka beetles

  so at least there was a little light.

  'He is unconscious, Pathmistress,' Josu said. 'And he

  will remain so for the rest of the night.'

  Four or five hours, Cat reckoned as she knelt beside

  the sleeping man. I hope that's enough time to get that

  bomb out of you.

  He was handsome, in a graze-cut, square-jawed way,

  dark-haired, thick eyebrows, quite full lips - in fact,

  there was a vaguely Scandic look to him. Peering closer,

  she saw that he had a small symbol tattooed just

  beneath his right ear, a red wolf's head. Then she laid

  her hand on his chest, just below his neck, but as soon

  as she touched his skin she gasped and snatched her

  hand away. Nervous whispers passed around and some

  of the UvovO began to back off.

  'What did you feel, Pathmistress?' said Josu from

  nearby.

  Felt and saw, she thought. There had been a feeling

  of great danger from under the man's skin ... and a

  strange, momentary vision she decided to keep to her-

  self.

  'Something inside him,' she said. 'Something ...' She

  touched his face and his uncovered hands with one fin-

  gertip and got the same sensation.

  'In his blood,' said someone.

  Glancing round she saw the two local Listeners star-

  ing down at the man, those sunken eyes wide and

  unblinking, an intense, twofold gaze.

  'His blood?' said Cat.

  'A strange fluid, invisible to his body's defences,' said

  the taller one.

  '. . . but dangerous,' said his short companion. 'When

  mingled with the other fluid . . .'

  Cat grimaced - they were describing a binary explo-

  sive, two inert liquids which became unstable when

  mixed. So the other component had to be in some sort

  of container that shared a membrane with a main

  artery . ..

  The shorter Listener seemed to read her mind and

  leaned forward to prod the sleeping man's chest. 'Here,

  a sac lies by the blood flow.' Those hooded, piercing

  eyes regarded her. 'Remove the blood-borne fluid by fil-

  tration and he will live. Otherwise . . .'

  'Filtration?' She knew that Uvovo healers employed

  certain kinds of filtration roots in response to particular

  maladies, removing impurities from the blood. But for

  Humans . . .

  'Could that work for a non-Uvovo?' she asked Josu.

  'For a Human?'

  'It has never been practised on a Human,' Josu said.

  'It may kill him, Pathmistress, but left alone he would

  choose death, that much is clear.'

  She nodded. 'Aye, there's more than just a touch of

  death-or-glory conditioning about them, that's for sure.

  Okay, we'll do it - while keeping a close eye on his well-

  being.'

  With this agreed, the Listeners directed the strongest

  of the Scholars to carry the bound and sleeping sol her

  at shoulder height while others helped the injured or

  brought along the bodies of the Uvovo who had die! in

  the fight. As she watched them move off in procession,

  her thoughts went back to the strange vision that had

  flashed into her mind's eye while examining the Human

  Ezgara - for one vivid instant she had seen Greg, lying

  seeming asleep at the foot of a curious, many-stemmed

  bush from which several pale tendrils trailed to either

  side of his head, joined to the skin. Chel sat nearby,

  swathed in long, dark robes, keeping watch over him.

  Why had Segrana shown her this? Was it a concocted

  image meant to allay her fears, or a glimpse of some-

  thing that was real?

  For a moment she put a hand over her eyes, finger

  and thumb massaging an ache in her temples. Then she

  straightened and called her trictra over, knowing her

  personal worries would have to wait until this situation

  was resolved.

  49

  CHEL

  It was late afternoon, almost twenty-four hours since the

  escape from the Hegemony envoy's fortified villa and

  more than twenty since their arrival at Glenkrylov, a

  daughter-forest situated in a shallow valley a few miles

  south of Waonwir. It had been Cheluvahar's idea to

  bring Greg here in the hope that the root-scholars might

  find a way to draw out the enslaving dust of the

  Dreamless. The scholars persevered for many hours,

  testing a variety of bush and vine filter roots in different

  combinations until Chel, with his singular perceptions,

  was able to confirm that they had arrived at a safe and

  effective arrangement. After Greg had been sedated with

  ortha root extract, Chel settled down to keep watch

  with all his eyes, studying the diminishing presence of

  those baleful motes.

  At the same time he was coping with a steady stream of

  visitors, Uvovo who were arriving at the forest in twos

  and threes or more, fleeing the towns and especially

  Hammefgard, where squads of Brolturan troops were

  detaining all Uvovo 'on suspicion of collusion with ter-

  rorist agitators'. It seemed that the new Unity government

  had quickly brought in repressive measures in exchange

  for Brolturan aid in securing law and order. Paradoxically,

  one of these measures had been the disbanding and dis-

  arming of the Darien Volunteer Corps, as well as the

  reorganisation of local law enforcement and the arming of

  certain police units.

  So these escaped Uvovo had to be provided with

  food and shelter (and healing in some cases), then

  formed into small bands and dispatched to those secret

  Burrows and other refuges off in the western hinter-

  lands. Then there was his role as Seer, which carried the

  previously unsuspected burden of providing reassur-

  ance as well as arbitration in disputes between

  Listeners. After some eleven hours of this he could feel

  his mind crumbling under the strain, his perceptions

  gnawed at by weariness. So, covering his eyes, he left

  Greg in the care o
f the healer Najuk, and went to climb

  a nearby beholder tree, seeking relaxation and a change

  of perspective.

  Beholder trees were chosen for their height and stur-

  diness, which meant that they were usually rakins, on

  both Umara and the moon. Also, their bark had many

  knots and wrinkles which provided plentiful hand- and

  footholds. As he climbed, Chel could feel the kinks and

  aches beginning to ease, and his torpidity dissolve as

  the exercise stirred his essential forces. He breathed deep

  as he moved higher, enjoying the odours and sensation

  of replenishment that percolated through him.

  About a third of the way to the canopy, voices came

  to him through the leaves, Human voices, and he slowed

  to seek out the source. Then clambered up onto a thick

  limb and saw them seated and sprawled on a matted

  platform fixed to the forked branch of a nearby tree.

  Seeing Rory and one of the Firmanov brothers among

  them he waved and Rory waved back.

  'How's that patient o' yours, Chel?'

  'Much better,' Chel called across. 'He improves by

  the hour.'

  'Any chance he'll be back on his feet in a coupla

  hours?'

  Chel shook his head. 'Not before tomorrow, I think,

  Rory. When he wakes he will be weak and will need

  food and rest. Are you planning to leave the forest?'

  'Aye .. . well, mebbe, when we've figured out how

  tae go lookin' for the Major.'

  'Will you be going soon?'

  'In a few hours, I reckon - we'll drop in and say our

  g'byes before we scarper.'

  Chel nodded and they exchanged waves again as he

  resumed his climb.

  A short while later he reached one of the cloudsteps,

  the highest and narrowest of the beholder trees' plat-

  forms. A cold and steady breeze stirred the surrounding

  foliage, bringing fleeting fragrant whiffs, and he could

  feel the entire trunk sway very slightly. All around were

  masses of rustling leaves, of shifting treetops over which

  insects darted and buzzed, tempting birds to swoop and

  snatch in midflight. Occasional afternoon sunshine

  broke through the clouds yet it was dry and warm, the

  air so clear that he could look eastward across the grey

  expanse of Loch Morwen to the small islands clustered

  near the mouth of the Gangradur River.