Norton, Andre - Brother To Shadows

At last he dropped down between Jofre and Taynad. "We must be closer than I reckoned." He was hissing as he did when excited and the stir of his neck frill was constant, as if being ruffled by some wind.

"This is bad land to cross." Jofre had made his" own close inspection of the edge of the way in which that guide would send them. To transverse those glasslike splinters would take time and very careful study of any path ahead.

"But—there are flowers!" Taynad pointed.

Indeed there was life here. That bristly growth which had covered the ground on the other side of the pass had changed to another kind of vegetation, closer in some ways to the tundra moss, yet with a characteristic very much its own. This did sprout thread-thin stems, hardly as long as a finger, so lifting high small white stars of flowers which seemed to lose no color in the closing dusk but rather to glow.

Beyond a clump of these there appeared to emerge from rock itself tiny lacy fringed leaves of a faintly reddish hue. While above this display there winged minute flutterers that moved from one star flower to another, as might the night spirits of the oldest legends.

Yan was entranced, moving away from Taynad and squatting down, now and then tentatively advancing a paw hand but never quite touching the display. Jofre picked up the faint touch of wonder which the Jat emitted. Then to the guard's surprise Yan reached up and caught at his own dangling hand, while the tall-eared head moved up and right as if that pushed-in, wrinkled nose was picking up some scent. Yan scrambled up, not losing touch with Jofre, and pattered on along the rock. They came to a place where the lava wall was taller and there Yan halted and pointed with the free paw.

Whatever attracted its attention must be above. Jofre moved closer to the surface of the wall, intent on a search for any such disastrous surprises as a webbing inhabited by the round ball bodies. But there was none to be seen.

He loosed his hand from Yan's grip and pulled himself up, to discover that he was now on the edge of a cup ringed about with the star flowers in thick profusion, so thick that he was aware of a delicate scent. And they were clustered about a bowl-sized pool of what appeared to be water though there was no sign of a spring, nor could there be in this land, he thought.

They had filled their water canteens at the spring over the mountain, and he would not disturb this small pocket— nor could they be sure it might not be tainted by some mineral. But to look down upon it was like looking into a miniature garden, to his eyes nearly as beautiful as that exotic lounging place the Holder had kept.

"Come," he called softly but he need not have done so, for Yan's summons must have reached her before his and Taynad was already at the base of the wall finding a way to join him.

A moment later her shoulder brushed against his. "It—is like the Moon Garden!" she exclaimed. "Perfect—as only the things made by the true spirit can be perfect. A thing to be fixed in memory forever!"

Jofre had reached down and pulled up Yan, settling the small furred body against his as the Jat leaned forward in his hold and made a soft crooning sound which blended with what they looked upon and became a perfect part of it.

"Food, explorers—" Zurzal's hiss from below brought them back into the world of here and now and they returned to the rough base camp.

They were careful with their supplies, rationing themselves strictly, being doubly saving of the water. The Skrem had not stirred far from their own chosen places and the two Deves still sat back-to-back. If they had eaten, it was in the shadow of their cloaks, a secret business.

The off-worlders followed their now set pattern of dividing the night into thirds, one to keep watch during each. Zurzal took the first watch since he said he wished to check on both the scanner (which he would have to do by touch in this lack of light) and keep an eye on the guide.

Jofre rolled in his covering, watching the shadowy movements of the Zacathan until sleep hit and he was caught in an ever-thickening darkness.

However, there was no mindless rest awaiting him. There was a stirring—first of memories which became oddly distorted dreams and then suddenly cleared into a real pattern. Once more he lay among mountain rocks and there crept upon him an unseen enemy. He fought to still his body, to seem the soundly sleeping one until that skulker came within hand's reach— There came a fumbling at his girdle— knife—

Jofre was awake with the speed of a threatened issha in enemy territory. His left hand had shot out to tighten on the one who had come like a thief, tightened with a crushing force, and in instant reply there was a scream of pain which sounded not only in his ears but in his head.

Sharp teeth scored his flesh. He had just time to deflect the knife blow delivered by his own hand so that that blade was not buried in the small body now squirming half across his middle. Yan! But why—?

"What are you doing?" Taynad was at him now, and her long nails cut skin below his eye.

"What is this one doing?" Jofre spat in return. He was reaching his knees now and had warded off a second attack from Taynad with force enough to send her back against the astounded Zacathan.

Jofre loosed his hold on Yan with a lightning-fast move, transferring it from the Jat's wrist to the nape of its neck so that he was able to hold it away from him. But what caught his attention first was the paw he had just released, for the whole of it was now aglow—so lit that one could see bones within the skin and flesh. And that paw was fast gripped about—

The stone! The Jat had somehow attempted to steal his secret! Why? There was one answer—Jofre glanced for only a second toward Taynad. There was more light now—he had slept past the twin moon rise and even the lava appeared to reflect some of that downward glow.

Jofre's lips flattened across his set teeth. The Jat—so in tune with this issha-trained—she must have set Yan on him.

"Give." His hand closed over that of Yan.

The Jat whimpered, shivered as if whipped around by a bitter wind, but it obeyed, releasing the stone into Jofre's grip. Some of the radiance died during that exchange, but enough was left to make it certain that what the guard now held was nothing ordinary.

"So you would have the creature thieve?" Jofre said slowly, trying to make his contempt edge each word. "What else have the Shagga ordered to be done? Am I now fair game for any Shadow?"

She brushed her hand across her mouth. Above that her eyes seemed very large and empty as if she had raised a strong barrier. He might well know that he would have no truth out of her—unless such was pertinent to the game she had been set to play. He had thought from the first that what he had found at the ancient Lair was indeed powerful, but he had not suspected that he would be hunted off-world for it.

"What is it?" The hissing of the Zacathan's voice was pronounced. He had put out an arm and steadied the giri against his body. Now he added, in a lower tone, "There are other eyes and ears here."

Jofre swallowed, called on control for the stifling of rage and, yes, the odd sense of betrayal. In all his life he had trusted very few, and the last to have his full allegiance was the dead Master. Yan whimpered again and tried to pull away and Jofre freed him but did not yet hide the stone. Why should he? They had seen it. Taynad must know very well what he carried and had been given her orders. But why had she waited so long? On Wayright she must have had countless chances for the Jat to despoil him and then she could have disappeared out of their lives, or else passed her loot on so that she would not be suspected.

"Power—warm—" The thought kindled a picture of flames in his mind; it must have done the same to Taynad. But it was to the Jat that he aimed and steadied his answering thought.