Clan Ground (The Second Book of the Named) (18 page)

She watched in terror as the rear legs formed and a plume of fire swept itself out into a long tail. The creature opened its mouth, showing teeth that had the impossible sharpness of a reaching flame. In its fur were streaks of blue, violet and yellow against a background of searing orange.

Slowly it began to move, and its flame-substance rippled as if it had muscles. It fixed its glowing eyes on her and she shook until her teeth chattered as she felt its endless devouring hunger. Her mind begged her legs to run, but she stayed, paralyzed by fright and a kind of horrified fascination.

The fire-creature lowered its head and placed one foot before the other. It was leaving the den of coals where it had grown and was coming toward her. Now it spoke and its voice had the soft hiss of the burning flame. “Bare your throat to me, clan leader,” it said. “Bare your throat to me, for I am the one who rules.”

She crouched, drawn and repelled by its terrible beauty. As if in worship, she lifted her chin, showing her throat. The creature that had sprung from the fire’s heart approached her and opened its mouth for the killing bite. She felt its breath on her and its whiskers, made of slender tongues of fire, touched her and left searing streaks on her skin beneath the fur. She felt the points of its fangs draw across her throat.

“No!” she screamed and lashed out with all her strength against it.

She awoke with her claws fastened in the wall of her den and her teeth bared. With a grateful sigh of deliverance, she sank down and lay limp until she was sure the horror of the dream had really passed. Her coat was rough and filled with dirt and she could see where she had writhed on the floor of her lair.

Unsteadily she got up and left the den, shaking the earth out of her fur and smoothing her pelt with her tongue. The early afternoon sun shone down through the scattered trees, comforting her with its warmth and golden light.

But she couldn’t forget those coal-red eyes that glowed with a hunger that would never be sated. She knew the creature was a dream, but she also knew that dreams often spoke truth. Although she had set herself to master the Red Tongue, she understood that a part of her mind would always look upon the fire-creature with a terror that could not be answered with reason.

When Fessran came to her that evening and asked that Bira be assigned to guard the herders’ fire again, it was easy for Ratha to agree. Soon the Firekeeper had that duty regularly. At Fessran’s urging, she forbade any of the herders to go near an unguarded flame.

Bundi recovered slowly. His wounds were less serious than Ratha had thought and she credited Fessran’s idea of bathing him in the stream. The swelling on his face diminished; the eye that had been forced shut opened again. He could walk, but he limped because the burn extended from his face down his neck to his shoulder and it hurt him to stretch the blistered skin.

He was soon back with the herders, doing what he could and trying to do more. Soon he had recovered full use of his shoulder, but he and everyone around him knew that he would always be disfigured.

Ratha continued to seek an answer to the mystery of Bundi’s accident. She questioned him carefully, but shock had driven the memory from his mind and he couldn’t recall exactly what had happened. He knew only that he had flung himself out of the firebed and rolled on the ground until someone came.

Shongshar remained politely evasive and Ratha did not want to alienate Fessran by pressing him harder. She was sure Fessran herself had nothing to do with it and if she suspected Shongshar at all, she would have spoken.

Chapter Thirteen

Ferns stroked Ratha’s side as she padded through them and along the mossy bed beside the streambank. She startled a frog and heard it plunk into the clear water. Above her, scattered trees spread their branches toward each other across the creek. When the breeze died, she could hear the soft splash of a waterfall that lay farther up the trail.

She was following the little creek up from the meadow to its source in the hills, something she often did when she wandered alone with no destination and a wish for only her own company. She thought wistfully that she would like to have taken Thakur along, but he was busy teaching this morning. His unhappiness over the loss of his treeling would have made him a poor companion anyhow. There was not much she could do to cheer him up; she had already tried. Eventually he would forget his grief, but it would take time.

She felt a little angry with him for retreating into sorrow when she was most in need of his help and support. There was no one she could talk to now. She thought briefly of unburdening herself to Fessran, but their friendship had grown too uncertain. The Firekeeper leader had found a new loyalty, one that was pulling her away from her old ties.

Since the accident, the herders had shunned Bundi, for they viewed his scars as a mark of the Red Tongue’s displeasure. The cub, whose awkwardness had made him shy, was becoming bitter and lonely, and the look in his eyes was that of someone much older. The only herder who would work with him now was Shoman, whose leg also bore marks of the Red Tongue’s wrath and who suffered the same hostility as Bundi.
 

There was little Ratha could do about the herders’ rejection of the injured pair except to demand that it not be shown in her presence.

The trail began to slope upward and Ratha followed it, listening to the sound of the waterfall as it echoed through the trees. Something made her stop and look upward, and she felt suddenly as if she were being watched.

She looked back down the trail and sniffed the breeze that ruffled her fur. No one was behind her. After waiting for a moment, she lowered her head and went on.

A rustle in the branches overhead stopped her again and she peered suspiciously up into the canopy. A small brown head with a banded muzzle appeared through the leaves a short distance above her head. It stared at her with round black eyes.

“Aree?”
it said.

Ratha stared back. Her mouth opened and her jaw sagged until she was gaping. “Aree? Have I really found you?”

The treeling yawned at her and scratched himself. He leaned down to peer at Ratha, extending his long ringed tail for balance. Then, as if satisfied, he ambled along the branch and climbed down into the crotch of the tree.

At first Ratha thought she had made a mistake. This creature was a bit larger and considerably rounder than Thakur’s treeling. Then she saw the crooked rear leg. Unless another treeling had also managed to break its leg in exactly the same place, this one had to be Aree.

Ratha talked softly to the treeling, trying to coax him down, but Aree seemed shy and unsure. He would start to climb down, then hesitate and scramble back up to his perch.

“Come on, Aree. You know who I am. You used to groom my fur. It needs grooming now,” she said and started to purr.

Aree was never afraid of me once he got used to me. He used to jump all over me. I wonder what has made him so shy.

The treeling started to groom himself, nuzzling the bulge of his belly.
His?
Aree was obviously a female and had found a mate.

“Thakur will have to get used to thinking of you as a she,” Ratha said, grinning. “He’ll also have to get used to all your little cubs, when you have them.”

Aree cocked her head and curled her tail at Ratha, but wouldn’t budge from the tree no matter how loud she purred. Ratha was starting to worry when she remembered the command Thakur had used to call the treeling to him.

She drew in her breath, gave a short hiss and clicked her teeth twice. Aree’s eyes brightened. The treeling launched herself from the tree, bounced to the ground and then up onto Ratha’s back. She rubbed her cheek against Ratha and was answered with nuzzles and licks. The creature took her place on Ratha’s shoulder and wound her tail around Ratha’s neck.

When she was sure Aree would stay on her back, she turned around and trotted down the trail to the meadow, eager to find Thakur.

As she drew close and heard the sound of cubs’ voices, she hesitated. Carrying Aree out into the open sun of the meadow might not be the best idea. If Thakur’s young pupils saw her with the treeling on her back, they would crowd around her with eager curiosity and might frighten Aree. If the treeling panicked and ran away, she would never be able to get her back again.

She left the trail before it led into the meadow and circled through the brush at the edge of the grass until she reached a leafy thicket. Here she was close enough to see and hear everything. The wind blew toward her and she caught the sweaty smell of dapplebacks and the eager nervous scents of the youngsters.

The cubs were watching as Thakur chased two dapplebacks across the meadow. The horses pounded in front of him, their manes flying. He raced after them, lithe and slim, yet powerful. With a sudden burst of speed, he caught up with the dapplebacks and dashed between them. It seemed as though he drove right under those flying heels, and Ratha forgot to breathe until she saw the horses separate with Thakur running between them.

The cubs also stood transfixed and Ratha imagined they were doubting whether they would ever be able to cut and drive dapplebacks the way he did. As a herder in training, she had practiced endlessly before she could attempt what he had just done. An instant of indecision or a false step could bring the herder down to be trampled beneath those sharp-toed feet.

Ratha saw Thakur jog to a stop. Ahead of him, the two horses slowed, grunting and snorting. These dapplebacks were more lively than the old mare he had been using; she guessed the cubs had reached a stage in their training where they could work a beast with more spirit.

Aree shifted on her back, reminding her why she had come here. She looked for the nearest cub and recognized Fessran’s younger son who was standing in the sparse shade near the edge of the grass.

“Sst! Khushi!” Ratha called, leaning out of her hiding place. The cub jumped and turned his head back over his shoulder.

“Sst! Over here. Quickly.”

Khushi blinked as he caught sight of her. With a quick look to either side, he galloped over to her thicket.

“Clan leader!” he said, his eyes large with surprise. “What are you doing, hiding in the bushes?”

“Never mind that,” she said, trying to keep enough leaves over her head to conceal the treeling. “Go get your teacher. Tell him that I have something for him.”

Khushi eyed her doubtfully. “Clan leader, he’s really grumpy today. If I interrupt him, he’ll chew my ears and they’re already pretty ragged.”

“I have something for him that will help his temper,” she answered. At that instant Aree chose to poke her head through the leaves and Khushi’s eyes got bigger than ever. “Oooh!”

Ratha ducked farther back in the thicket. “I’ve got Thakur’s lost friend. Hurry up and get him, or I’ll chew your ears!”

With a gasp, Khushi took off and scampered across the grass to where Thakur was supervising the other cubs as they rounded up the two dapplebacks. Khushi had to tug at Thakur’s tail to get the herding teacher’s attention and Ratha saw him duck an irritated swipe. But the cub was persistent and at last Thakur left his pupils with the dapplebacks and crossed the grass to Ratha’s hiding place.

“Ratha?” he called crossly. “Khushi said you were here. Where ...?”

She was lifting her foot over a low branch when Aree gave a joyful squeal and sprang over her head. She had forgotten to unwind her tail completely from around Ratha’s neck. Suddenly unbalanced, Ratha spilled out onto the grass and landed on her front.

She looked up, dazed and half-choked. Aree hung between the two of them, suspended by the tail, with her arms around Thakur’s neck. She was rubbing her cheek against his and cooing as if she would never stop. Thakur looked as taken aback as Ratha was. His jaw sagged open against the tree-ling’s arm and he stared at Ratha in complete bewilderment for an instant.

Then his drooping whiskers sprang up and his ears perked. His disbelief quickly gave way to delight.

“Aree!” he cried as the treeling loosed her tail from Ratha’s neck and hugged him with her legs and arms. “Aree, you’re really back! Oh how I’ve missed you, you little flea-picker! You can eat fruit on my back all day long and dribble and I’ll never complain, just as long as you stay.”

Ratha picked herself up and smoothed the rumpled fur on her breast. “And not a word of thanks to the brave clan leader who risked paws and tail to bring this unpredictable creature back to you?” she said hoarsely, adding a cough for effect.

“He didn’t hurt you badly, did he?” Thakur asked, wrinkling the fur on his brow. She sat up stiffly.
“She”
—Ratha paused—“nearly choked me to death. The next time you lose your treeling, the clan may need another leader.”

Thakur eyed Aree with astonishment. “You’re right. He’s a she and soon there will be more of them.”

“If Aree’s cubs prove to be as clever as she is, then we’ve solved Fessran’s problem, haven’t we?” Ratha grinned at Thakur.

“If I can train all her young ones. I don’t know how I’m going to teach herding and cope with a whole treeling family at the same time,” he added with mild dismay.

“When the time comes, I’ll help you,” Ratha offered. Then she explained how she had found the treeling, and how the creature had stayed in the tree until she hissed and clicked her teeth. “I don’t know why Aree was so afraid of me. She used to enjoy grooming my fur,” she said, puzzled.