Клэр Белл - The Named - The Complete Series

“How do I know that Shongshar hasn’t sent you?”

“He sent me down with those who were to kill the tree-lings. but I turned on them and fought beside Thakur,” Bira answered. “If you want proof, here is the ash that I rubbed into my pelt to disguise myself like them, and here is the bite on my foreleg from Nyang’s teeth.”

Bira came forward, letting Ratha smell her fur. As she approached, Ratha saw a small shape crouched on Bira’s neck. “Thakur told me to bring your treeling, and she came with me, even though she was still frightened,” said the young Firekeeper. “Here.” She came alongside and Ratha felt treeling paws grasp her fur as Ratharee climbed from Bira’s back to hers. The treeling wound its tail aroundher neck and hugged her fiercely, its trembling telling her how lost and frightened it had been.

Ratha suddenly felt steadier. Bira wouldn’t have brought Ratharee in order to lead her into a trap. If Shongshar wanted to have her killed, there were other, easier ways. The young female’s story sounded true and there was no taint of deceit in either her words or her smell.

“Hurry, clan leader! Once Shongshar knows I have betrayed him, he will send others after me.”

“All right, Bira. Take me to Thakur.”

She followed Bira down the path until it met the main trail. As soon as Bira took the turn that led to the creek trail, Ratha’s suspicion flared again, and she followed warily, testing the air for scents of hidden attackers. Soon, however, Bira cut off the creek trail and began to climb the steep bank above it. Before long they were in the deeper darkness amid the great trees, and Ratha’s paws fell on crumbled bark and pine needles.

Ratha sensed they were making a wide circle to avoid the base of the falls and the cave that sheltered the Red Tongue. She wondered if Fessran and the others were still at their wild dance. The thought made her shiver.

“We’re going to some little caves above the falls. I found them one day when I was exploring, and no one else knows about them,” Bira explained as Ratha padded beside her. “I brought Thakur up this far, told him where to find the place and then went back down to look for you.”

“Did you save all the treelings?”

“Yes. One of the little ones got a scratch and Aree’s a bit bruised, but they’re all right.”

Some of the tension seeped out of Ratha and she concentrated on climbing. At last they found an old trail that had many rises and drops as well as endless switchbacks. Ratha was sure they must be far beyond clan ground when Bira turned off the path and disappeared down a brush-covered slope. The way led into a little vale with the sound of a brook chuckling over rocks and the glint of starlight on foaming water. Bira ran along the near bank and ducked under a great gray slab of broken rock.

Now Ratha could throw her fear aside, for Thakur’s scent was strong in the air about the streambank. Beneath the overhang were small recesses that barely qualified as caves. She found Thakur and the treelings nestled together in the largest one.

“Shh, Aree. It’s only Ratha,” he soothed as the largest of the treeling shapes lifted its muzzle in alarm. He shifted over to make room for Ratha on the soft sandy floor. Her relief at seeing him safe overwhelmed her, and for a while she could only crouch beside him, licking his ears, and saying, “Thakur, I should have listened. I should have listened,” over and over.

“Well, I was lucky,” he said when she finally calmed down. “The Firekeepers weren’t really after me, just the tree-lings. And when Bira turned and started helping me fight, that really confused them. That gave us time to gather up the tree-lings and run.”

“We nearly lost Aree,” added the young Firekeeper. “When Nyang scratched one of her cubs, she flew at him and bit him hard. You should have heard him yell.”

“Nyang again,” Ratha said with distaste. “He will do anything for Shongshar, won’t he? I imagine he was the one who pushed Bundi into the fire.”

“He led us,” said Bira. “He showed us how to rub ashes into our pelts so that no one could smell who we were. I hate the taste and feel of it; I’m going to wash myself in the stream tomorrow.”

“Bira,” Ratha said slowly, “I’m grateful to you for what you did. You had no reason to want to help me. You wouldn’t have had a witless litter if I hadn’t let Shongshar into the clan.”

“You took your chance, clan leader, and I took mine,” Bira answered. “I grieved for that litter, but now they are gone I don’t think of them any more. As for Thakur, I was the one who built the fire for him when he was teaching Aree. I liked him and I liked the treelings too much to let Shongshar kill them, so I tried to make Nyang think I was fierce and nasty enough for his group of killers. It wasn’t easy,” she added with a grimace that narrowed the glow of her eyes.

“I think,” said Thakur firmly, “that we should get some sleep. Whatever is happening has just begun, and we are going to need all our strength and cleverness tomorrow.”

Although his words sounded somber, Ratha was too tired to worry. Bira offered to stand guard through the first part of the night and Thakur said he would take the following watch. He hadn’t finished speaking when his voice became a drone that faded in Ratha’s ears as she slid into sleep.

She woke suddenly, shaking away the dream-image of a huge fire with grotesque black figures leaping through the flames. She opened her eyes and gratefully breathed the air of a quiet morning. Somewhere a bird trilled a high sweet note over the merry noise of the stream. Bira slept alongside, her head on her paws, her flanks rising and falling slowly. Ratharee was curled between them, the treeling’s brown-black fur contrasting with Bira’s ash-streaked red and Ratha’s own fawn color.

She lifted her muzzle and focused on Thakur, who was sitting just outside the little cave. Ratha yawned and then crept out, trying not to disturb either Bira or the treelings. She stretched, gathering herself together for the new day.

“No one knows what happened last night except Shongshar, Nyang’s group of Firekeepers and ourselves,” she said thoughtfully. “None of them are going to tell anyone, especially since their attempt was a failure, thanks to Bira.”

“What are you going to do?” asked Thakur. “Talk to Fessran?”

Ratha fell silent. After seeing the Firekeeper leader in her frenzied dance before the Red Tongue, she doubted that Fessran would listen to anything about treelings or even about Shongshar’s misdeeds.

“No,” she said. “I’m going to talk to the herders and tell them what Shongshar is up to. Then I’m going to lead them up the creek trail and take all the wood out of the cave. Without wood, the cave-fire will die and so will Shongshar’s power. We’ll see who obeys him then!”

“It may not be so easy.” The herding teacher looked at her, his eyes full of doubt.

“It won’t be, but if I can hold the loyalty of the herders, I can do it. Come with me, Thakur. Cherfan and the other herders will be more likely to listen to me if you are there.”

“And I am less likely to get pounced upon by Nyang and his pack of Firekeepers,” said Thakur dryly and added, “I didn’t think I would do much teaching today.”

“Can we trust Bira to stay with the treelings?”

“Yes. She’s no longer a Firekeeper. They wouldn’t take her back after she turned on them to help me. Nyang’s probably looking for her, and she knows she’s safe here.”

Ratha stared into the cave, taking one last look at Ratharee.“I hope Bira can keep the treelings safe.” She turned to face Thakur and felt a shiver at the solemn look on his face.