Клэр Белл - The Named - The Complete Series

“Thakur told me some of the truth, and the rest I found myself,” Fessran said. “She has nightmares about you, falls into fits when she catches your smell. She calls you the Dreambiter and would kill you if she could. Newt is yours, Ratha. Half-witted, crippled — she is your daughter.”

“No,” Ratha growled.

“And I’ll tell you something else. I think she’s out there, watching, listening to your words.”

Again Thistle-chaser’s spotted face was before Ratha, distorted, crying out in pain. Then Newt’s face overlaid it, but the eyes were still the same. They swirled, taunting her. Could Fessran be right? Was the one who had been Thistle-chaser out there listening?

Ratha shook herself. She could not be distracted. Not now.

She lunged at Fessran, driving her back from the bewildered Mishanti.

“Take him!” the Firekeeper howled. “Take him and then, maybe, I will be able to hate you enough to feed you your own creature and make you live by your own law. ”

Another cry broke from her, a cry that seemed to tear Ratha from inside. She shook with the pain of it and ached to offer the Firekeeper some scraps of comfort, but all she could do was take the cub by the scruff and go.

Thakur had heard Fessran howl before, but rarely had there been such raw grief and rage in the Firekeeper’s voice. The sound drew him to the vale behind Newt’s lagoon, and he went quickly, with Aree crouching on his shoulder. As he was starting up the path, Fessran appeared, galloping past an outcropping. She nearly ran into him.

He dodged to the side while she skidded, raising a plume of fine dust and sand that set her coughing. Her ribs lifted in sobbing breaths.

“Did you see Ratha?” she managed to ask.

“No. What happened?”

“She came and took Mishanti. The cub I kept and wanted to adopt.”

“That’s what set you off running and yowling? Fessran, I can’t stop Ratha from doing what she thinks is best for the clan,” he argued.

“Then why are you here?”

“I need help. Something’s happened to Newt. She went wild, ran off a cliff. She wasn’t killed, but she went into one of her fits, and she can’t or won’t come out of it.”

Fessran stared at him.“What, by the Red Tongue’s ashes, did you do to set that off?”

“I lost my temper and I called Newt by her name. Her real name. Thistle-chaser. I think hearing it brought back all sorts of things.”

“So that proves it. She is Ratha’s daughter. I told Ratha that. I told her she had no right to take Mishanti, but I couldn’t stop her. If we both go after her?”

“I can’t leave Newt. Something’s really gone wrong with her. Please, Fessran,” he pleaded as he saw the Firekeeper stare angrily down the trail in the direction that Ratha had probably gone. “Come with me. At least help me find Bira or someone.”

“If I help, will you come with me to talk some sense into Ratha?”

Wearily Thakur agreed, then led the way back to the cave where he’d left Newt. Apprehensively he approached, listening for muttering or other sounds. He heard only silence and his own footsteps. Crouching down, he peered into the cave, feeling a lump come into his throat when he found everything quiet and still. But when his eyes grew used to the darkness, he saw Newt had gone.

For an instant he stayed there, feeling numb and puzzled. Where could she have gone? Why would she have left? And then the answer came, for he remembered her last words as he’d left the cave: She had gone to hunt the Dreambiter.

He scrambled out, ruffling his fur backward in his haste. Nearby he saw Fessran nosing a set of pawprints in the wet sand.

“These certainly aren’t yours,” the Firekeeper said. “Well, Newt can’t be dying if she’s up and wandering around.” She stared at Thakur. “What’s the matter now?”

He tried to halt the fear racing through him.“Fessran, she was raving about killing the Dreambiter. I think she’s gone after Ratha.”

“Newt?” Fessran howled derisively, but her voice shook. “She couldn’t take a newborn herdbeast! If she tries to fight Ratha, she’ll get ripped in so many pieces we’ll never find them all.”

Thakur heard her fall silent under his stare. She looked away from him, then back again.

“Don’t tell me you think that lame little half-wit could… ”

“Newt is not a half-wit, Fessran. Far from it.” Thakur kept his voice and his gaze even. “I warned Ratha not to underestimate her, and she didn’t listen. It may cost the Named dearly.”

The Firekeeper raked the ground, glared at Thakur.“I want Mishanti back. I want Ratha to see she is wrong. But I don’t want her to have to die for it!”

“Then you and I will have to find her before Newt does,” Thakur said, his voice icy.

“Can Newt really… ” Fessran faltered.

“She can,” Thakur answered grimly. “I’m the one to blame for that. I helped her heal her leg.” He remembered how wildly Newt had fought when in the grip of her fit, how he had to hold her down with all his strength. And he knew how brightly her rage burned against the Dreambiter.

“All right. I’m coming,” said Fessran. “For Mishanti’s sake, if not Ratha’s.”

“And for your own, though you’d never admit it,” Thakur snapped back. “Hurry!”

He heard Fessran’s feet behind him as they galloped off together down the path. Thakur had a good idea of where Ratha might be headed. If she’d taken Mishanti, she probably intended to make the journey to the same place where she’d abandoned Shongshar’s cubs several seasons ago. She would have to use the same trail back up to the coast range that he had used on his first journey to the beach. The way was a little different now. Instead of having to ford the inlet of the estuary that lay across the trail, she would cross on the floating bridge moored to the bank. It occurred to Thakur that such a crossing would be a good place for an ambush.

He begged more speed from his paws as he headed toward the raft-bridge, planning to catch Ratha there or at least find her footprints. It wouldn’t be easy. Newt had a head start. He could only hope that her healing foreleg would not stand the strain and that she would falter despite her revenge-madness. But he knew hoping wasn’t enough to save Ratha. He ran faster.

As Ratha padded through the salt grass with Mishanti in her jaws, she eyed the floating bridge with mixed feelings. She was glad she would not have to make the trip around the inlet. Her jaws already ached from carrying the cub by the scruff, and her conscience hurt her almost as badly. The bridge would save her some travel, but she didn’t like the way it shifted and strained against the cords that anchored it to stumps on the bank. Currents riffled water against the upstream side as the retreating tide drew water from the inlet.

The Named had crossed the floating bridge enough times to prove its worthiness. It was her own bad luck that she had to cross on an outgoing tide, but the bridge would bear her.

Lifting her chin to hold Mishanti high, she took several steps down the bank. Was that a splash in the water upstream, she wondered, and what was that eddy? She cocked her head to one side so she could see past the cub in her jaws. A shadow seemed to cross the bottom, but it went swiftly and was chopped up by the small whitecaps. She stared hard but could see nothing.

Clouds scudded by overhead, casting fleeting shadows along the ground and over the water. The cub sagged in Ratha’s jaws. With a toss of her head, she heaved him up again and strode onto the floating bridge.

With the first step, the raft-bridge rocked, as she had expected it to. The next few steps were staggers; the mass of bound driftwood and rushes heaved as if it had been struck from beneath. Ratha nearly lost her hold on the cub in her mad scramble to keep on her feet on the plunging raft. But she lost her balance, flopping on her side and clawing wildly to keep atop the mass of thatch and sticks. Mishanti squealed in pain from the pressure of her teeth in his scruff, and her neck muscles strained with the effort of keeping him from tumbling off.