Fire Season

Chapter Thirteen

Climbs Quickly was pleased when Nose Biter and his clanmates had the good sense to join the effort to stop the grass fire. After all, if the fire spread, the question of whether the People accepted the two-legs’ aid or ran for what safety they could find on a burning island would be moot. Fire that had grown fat on dried grass and fragile shrubbery would be well-prepared to gorge upon the leaves beneath the spreading branches of the net-wood grove.

As much as he longed to be close to Death Fang’s Bane, Climbs Quickly did not join those fighting the fire, but turned his attention to those of the Damp Ground Clan who trembled between a desire to flee on their own six legs and to accept the offered help. Among those who now balanced on the brink of decision were several mothers with kittens of various sizes huddling near them. These would be the most vulnerable in a traditional flight, and he turned his attention to them.

‹ I swear,› he said, ‹ Death Fang’s Bane has often visited our clan and shown only the greatest care and respect. She is a youngling, of course, and delights in games with the kittens…›

Here he shared an image of his two-leg, her arms extended in a wide loop as she used one of her devices-the one that seemed at times to almost let her fly-to give a hooting and squeaking armload of very small kittens a ride from branches to duff, the entire giggling mass landing as lightly as did a flower-wing on a leaf.

The Damp Ground Clan kittens were captivated, for a moment forgetting their fear of both fire and strange creatures. Climbs Quickly felt fringes of “Me, too! Me, too!” from their mind-voices. He wished he had time to pull Death Fang’s Bane from her labors so she could enchant them with the warmth of her mind-glow, but there was no time.

Less time, indeed, than he had estimated. At that moment, the breeze became suffused with the odor of burning near-pine sap-doubtless one of those pockets that collected in a dead tree and were considered treasures by any treecat who excavated them, since, if carefully warmed, the sap could line a basket so that it would carry water.

The odor was followed by an ear-foldingly loud explosion as the heat-suffused sap caught fire all at once and exploded. The top of the tree vanished into sparks and flaming bits that eddied toward the ground like shooting stars. The trunk of the tree tottered and crashed down toward the stream.

Climbs Quickly knew his was not the only mind that shouted warning, but as swift as were sight and thought, in this case the falling tree was swifter. Slender as the dead near-pine had seemed when among the company of its fellows, the fiery mass that plummeted downwards was vast and terrible, trailing flaming branches that snagged and broke against the tangled trees on either side of the stream.

Two-legs and six-legs alike scattered away from the falling menace, but two were unable to escape-Windswept and one of the People. Even as they vanished beneath the flaming mass, Climbs Quickly knew the lost member of the Damp Ground Clan in the flashes of frantic memory spread by the panicked members of his clan.

Dirt Grubber was his name. He was a patient soul, older than Climbs Quickly by five rings on his tail, never mated, yet a valued member of his clan, first as a young scout, later shifting his attention from game animals to the plants the People valued. He had been among the few in this conservative clan who had not thought avoidance of the two-legs was the wisest course. Indeed, he had a fascination with their growing places, and had pestered the memory singers for images.

All this in a second, all this as Climbs Quickly bunched his limbs and began to run in the direction of the burning tree. He had felt Death Fang’s Bane’s first flash of shock and horror. He knew that his two-leg would not accept that her friend was lost until she held the burned body in her arms. Surging through Death Fang’s Bane’s mind-glow was determination that muted a budding grief. She was not one to wail mindlessly when something might yet be done.

Nor, he saw, were her friends. Running back from where they had made their escape, they raced in the direction of the burning tree. The older two wielded their cutting/hauling tools with grim efficiency, clearing away the outer layer of burning material. The younger boy stood waist-deep in the stream, playing water through one of the peeing bags so that it soaked the nearby area, keeping the flames from spreading.

Shadowed Sunlight, his mind-glow a turmoil within which the darkness threatened to overwhelm the sun, apparently thought this a wise move, for as soon as he was close enough, he began to do the same from the other side. Meanwhile, those of the People who had been helping build the fire line went from point to point, scraping dirt over those sparks or bits of flaming material that escaped the two-legs’ attention. Through the sharp, permeating scent of burning green-needle, Climbs Quickly could smell the scent of singed fur and blistered flesh.

His own skin burned in a few spots, but it took more than sparks to set the fur of a living Person alight. He hastened to join Death Fang’s Bane where she, with typical determination, was trusting to the extra skin she had donned to protect her from the worst of the flames as she pushed in to where she could get a hold on the burning tree itself.

Climbs Quickly had long known that Death Fang’s Bane was stronger even than two-legs much larger than herself. These wore devices that helped them to move about with ease and he had seen how without them they were slowed. Some-like Shadowed Sunlight-often managed without such aides, but when he did the extra effort was obvious. Such was not the case with Death Fang’s Bane. She was strong enough to move as gracefully as a Person under her own power. However, she was a two-leg and like all such did not often go far without tools.

Now, reaching the burning trunk of the green-needle, she yelled something. All Climbs Quickly could understand was the word “Karl,” but her meaning soon became clear. The young male turned the force of his pee-bag’s flow to soak the section of the tree nearest to Death Fang’s Bane. As he did so, she took off the making-lighter thing and strapped it to the tree trunk, protecting it with a wrap made from one of the fire shelter bags she carried.

When this was in place, Death Fang’s Bane shoved with all her might to raise the tree trunk so that any trapped beneath it-living or dead-might be freed. Shadowed Sunlight, seeing her intention, moved to help her, his greater height and broad, muscular shoulders a tremendous asset in this labor, the fierce darkness in his mind-glow seeming to give him extra strength.

When Shadowed Sunlight had raised the tree trunk higher than she could reach, Death Fang’s Bane trusted her burden solely to the young male. Then, partly in the water, partly out, she thrust herself deeper in and began feeling around for those who had been trapped.

Here, at last, was a task with which Climbs Quickly could help. He had been sorting through the confused flood of mind-voices, seeking two that-if they still existed at all-would be faint and weak. Once or twice there had been traces. Following these as he might have scented after a bark-chewer when hunting, he waded into the stream and joined his two-leg in her search.

Almost as one, their hands found the slick fabric of Windswept’s suit. As one, they pulled with all their combined strength, seeking to dislodge the limp and inert burden. One hand tight on the fabric, Death Fang’s Bane hacked with her fast-biting knife to break loosen the twigs and branchlets that had caught on Windswept’s clothing. Climbs Quickly might lack a true-hand, but he still had five good limbs. With the upper three he gripped Windswept’s clothing, kicking hard with his true-feet braced against the near-pine trunk.

He wondered at the difficulty they were having getting Windswept free. True, this youngling was more curved and bumped than his own Death Fang’s Bane. True, the tree had fallen on her, so it was to be assumed that even the tough material of her clothing had been pierced and snagged, but still her shape seemed all wrong, resisting extraction.

At last, though, the two of them forced the mass free from beneath the green-needle, dragging it into the smoky air.

Climbs Quickly had been peripherally aware that the smell of close-by burning had become that of sodden wood, but he had been so closely focused on his task, on trying to touch and hold the mind-glows of the captive two, that he had lost any sense of his surroundings. Now he emerged to find that two of the young fliers were playing streams of water over the fallen green-needle. Enough water saturated the air that, had he not known otherwise, he would have thought he was emerging into rain.

When they were free, Shadowed Sunlight dropped the smouldering tree and came to help move the injured girl. Climbs Quickly was glad, for apparently Windswept had possessed the good sense to jump into the stream when she realized she could not escape the falling tree, taking the risk of being drowned rather than accepting the certainty of being burned. She was sodden, heavy with water.

Climbs Quickly wondered fleetingly why Windswept-like Death Fang’s Bane-had not trusted to her suit. Was it because she had less experience? Had she given in to fear?

He was turning to go seek after Dirt Grubber, when a cry from Death Fang’s Bane made him realize why Windswept had been so difficult to move. As Shadowed Sunlight helped Death Fang’s Bane to lift Windswept, the oddness in her shape was explained. At tremendous risk to herself, Windswept had torn open the front on her suit so that Dirt Grubber could be protected inside from the fire, held in her arms above the water.

But had her sacrifice been sufficient?

Once Shadowed Sunlight had helped move the injured pair clear of fire and water, Death Fang’s Bane ripped open Windswept’s suit, for its shredded fabric made amply clear that it could no longer provide any effective protection. Soon, Windswept lay limp on the muddy earth near the stream, her arms curled protectively around the sodden Person she had rescued.

Death Fang’s Bane began poking and prodding the two in a manner that reminded Climbs Quickly of her father’s working over the injured. Raising her head, she made mouth noises in which Climbs Quickly recognized her name for him.

“Lionheart…Jessica…Lionheart!”

Climbs Quickly understood what his two-leg wanted to know only because he desired the same. He was sure Windswept and Dirt Grubber were alive, but that did not mean they had not been injured beyond recovery-or damaged beyond the ability to think. He placed his hands on the quiet pair, probing to see if sense lay beneath life. When he had learned what he could, he met Death Fang’s Bane’s anxious gaze and nodded, flooding their link with reassurance that the two lived.

As he did so, he felt again the frustration that he could not tell her more.

Climbs Quickly wished he could tell Death Fang’s Bane that he sensed both Windswept’s and Dirt Grubber’s mind-glows, faint but present, aware though encased in bodies too weak to communicate. He wished with all his heart that he could tell Death Fang’s Bane the other thing he felt-something he was certain that no one in the Damp Ground Clan had yet sensed. These two mind-glows were intertwined. Somehow, on the edge of death, caught beneath fire and within water, these two strangers had found in each other a reason beyond reason to fight for life.

“Bleek,” he said, and nodded vigorously. “Bleek! Bleek!”

Then he turned and indicated with gestures that the time for retreat had come. Would the Damp Ground Clan understand the battle was lost?

As Climbs Quickly ran in the direction of the air cars what he saw awaiting him made his heart suffuse with a strange joy. Every member of the Damp Ground Clan who had not been able to join in fighting the fire-the females with kittens, the elders, the crippled, — now waited in the bed of the truck.

As the two-legs approached-Shadowed Sunlight and the larger boy carrying Windswept, the tall girl holding the battered Dirt Grubber cradled in her arms-every single one of those gathered clan members held out their arms, offering without words to hold and succor the wounded, mutely expressing that they trusted the two-legs would carry them away to safety.

Knowing from experience how soothing treecats could be, Stephanie accepted the invitation that the injured two ride in the back of the air-truck. She climbed in first, directing Chet and Karl to place Jessica’s head in her lap. The treecats-among whom were doubtless relatives of the ’cat Jessica had rescued-took charge of their clanmate. As the males spilled in to join the females, young, and infirm, the back of the truck became quite crowded.

“Where are we going from here?” Chet asked as he headed for the pilot’s seat of the truck. “I mean, the treecats seem to have accepted our offer of a ride, but where do we take them?”

“Out of here first,” Karl said practically, from his own vehicle. “The main body of the fire is spreading from the southeast. So we head west. Steph, you let me know if the treecats get agitated or something, okay?”

“Okay,” Stephanie said somewhat absently.

Toby had brought her the enhanced first-aid kit from Karl’s car before going to join him. Christine was riding with Chet. Now, Stephanie focused on trying to figure out what was wrong with Jessica. The other girl was breathing raggedly, doubtless because in opening her suit to hold the treecat she had inhaled a lot of smoke. She was also soaked, so she might have breathed in water as well.

Stephanie placed her hand against Jessica’s bare skin and was shocked to feel how cold it was.

“Okay,” she muttered. “Hypothermia. Being surrounded by treecats should warm her up…Let me see what I can do for her breathing.”

The med-kit contained a compact oxygen mask-Richard Harrington’s addition after the rescue of Right-Striped and Left-Striped. He’d insisted that if Stephanie and Karl were going to be out in fire territory, they needed to be prepared for the worst.

“You might not need it,” he’d said when Stephanie had protested that she and Karl weren’t such zips as to forget to use their respirators. “But someone else might not be that lucky.”

Stephanie fitted the mask into place and set the pressure low, watching carefully to see if Jessica started coughing. That would indicate water in the lungs. However, after a few breaths, Jessica seemed more relaxed. Her eyelashes fluttered slightly.

“Take it easy,” Stephanie murmured, wondering if the thrumming of the surrounding treecats meant much the same thing. “You’re safe now. So’s the ’cat. We’re getting away from the fire as fast as we can.”

Too fast, so it seemed. Stephanie heard Lionheart “bleek” for her attention, and looked up. The treecats clustered in the back of Chet’s truck were stirring uneasily. A few were looking over the side, as if contemplating jumping.

“Slow down, Chet,” Stephanie said through her uni-link. “Seems that all treecats aren’t addicted to speed like Lionheart. I think some of your passengers are getting motion sick.”

Chet slowed down immediately. “How about elevation?”

“That doesn’t seem to bother them as much,” Stephanie said, “maybe because they live up in trees. Still, I think we’d better stay under the canopy.”

Christine’s voice cut in. “We’re not going to be able to cover much distance if we stay low and slow.”

“As long as we stay ahead of the fire,” Stephanie said, “and get out of the worst of the smoke, we’re doing good.”

She listened to the feed over her uni-link. The SFS reported that containment of the northern fire was far from achieved, but that the fire had been diverted from the Hayestown. Water drops had succeeded in downgrading the fire in some areas from crown level to surface level. A few teams were now being diverted to where the southern fire still raged in the mountains. However, the battle on either front was far from won. A call had gone out for volunteers to spell those who had been on duty since before dawn.

“What time is it?” Christine said, then answered her own question. “I can’t believe it’s only a few hours past noon. I wonder if we’ve been missed?”

“Check your uni-link,” Chet said practically. “If you don’t find a stream of messages from your mother, you haven’t.”

“No messages. I guess if anyone has missed us, they think we’ve been diverted to another area.”

Toby chuckled. “As we have been. We’re on the probationary rangers’ team. Hey, Steph and Karl, do you think we could qualify?”

Karl’s reply was very dry. “Either you’ll qualify or Steph and I are going to be out of a job. SFS isn’t a military organization, but we’ve bent the rules. I’m guessing that the only reason someone isn’t worrying about what we’re up to is they have a lot more to worry about.”

“Out of sight, out of mind,” Stephanie agreed. “Though the automatic messages you arranged to send were a good idea, Karl.”

“Thanks. How’s Jessica?”

“Coming around. She seems to be breathing easier. Since we’re out of the worst of the smoke, I’m going to work the mask off.”

“How about the treecat?” Toby asked.

“I think he’s all right. I mean, the treecats have all huddled around him, but they don’t seem anxious. I saw some patches of burnt fur, but I think Jessica grabbed him before much worse could happen.”

“That was really brave,” Christine said, admiration in her voice. “I don’t know if I could have done it. I mean, I didn’t mind getting close to the fire because the suits kept out the worst of the heat and smoke. Opening up a suit when surrounded by fire…”

Jessica obviously overheard. Even before she fluttered open her eyes she said in a very soft voice, “Brave or really dumb…”

She coughed a few times. Stephanie patted her hand, then moved it so Jessica could feel the oxygen mask.

“Don’t stress your voice. If you need more air, take a pull on this.”

“Okay. Can Valiant have some?”

“Valiant?” Stephanie realized Jessica must mean the treecat. “Sure. Take a drag and I’ll see if he wants any.”

Knowing that Lionheart would likely be with Stephanie when she went on fire duty, Richard Harrington had shown her how to adjust the flow for treecats. She did so now, glad that she hadn’t been such a blackhole as to ignore good advice just because it came from her father. Dad had also included a variety of simple drugs-painkillers and stimulants mostly-that had been proven to work on treecats.

“Lionheart,” Stephanie said holding out the mask. “You’d better show Valiant how to use this.”

Lionheart took the device promptly. One of the females-an older one, Stephanie thought-hissed, but another treecat patted her and eased her back when she would have intervened.

His wife? Stephanie thought. His mother? I can tell a kitten from an adult, but there’s so much I don’t know…

The oxygen seemed to help Valiant. Lionheart then made a quick inspection of the other ’cat’s bedraggled fur. It was burnt in places, but the skin was badly blistered only in one area-a long streak down the left shoulder and flank.

Stephanie took out some quick-heal and sprayed on a light application. In nature, burns healed best if kept clean and left to open air, but she wanted to do something for the creature’s evident pain.

“Valiant got that,” Jessica said softly, “when he pushed me into the stream. I froze for a minute too long, then I stumbled and did something to my ankle. He could have gotten away, but he stopped…”

Her voice choked with tears. “He’s going to be all right, isn’t he? I’ll just die if anything happens to him, especially because of me…”

Stephanie’s eyes widened. There was more here than just guilt or sympathy. She heard in Jessica’s voice the same pain she had felt when Lionheart had attacked the hexapuma in an effort to save her.

She looked at Lionheart, wondering if he would confirm her guess.

“Bleek,” he said, nodding. “Bleek!”

Me and Lionheart. Scott and Fisher. Now Jessica and Valiant…

Stephanie shook her head in wonder, then realized she hadn’t answered Jessica’s question.

“It’s just a burn. I gave him something for the pain and his family has him all warm. Next thing you know, they’ll be cleaning up his fur for him. You concentrate on getting well…Valiant’s going to need you, too.”

Anders awoke to screams of panic.

He sat up, wondering who was sitting on his chest, then remembered it was the weight of the world-literally the world, all of Sphinx’s 1.35 gravity. Switching on his counter-grav unit to the minimum setting alleviated the pressure, but did nothing to still the screaming.

It was Kesia.

“Oh God oh God oh God…” the linguist was saying without pausing for breath. Then she began babbling in some language Anders had never heard before but which, from the fluency with which she spoke it, must be her native tongue.

He glanced toward the forest, thinking that the fire must have reached the area. The picketwood grove, however, remained untouched. If anything, the smoke was lighter than before.

Kesia was pointing a few meters away from the islet in the bog on which they had made their new camp, pointing, apparently, at one of the patches of mud. An eddy of motion focused Anders’ attention. He froze, for a moment believing that he was still asleep and that this was his worst nightmare yet. Then he had to accept what he was seeing was real.

The mud was slowly crawling toward them. This mud had teeth, teeth between which it whistled as it moved, an eerie sound, soft and gentle, completely at odds with the horror before them.

Other voices were joining Kesia’s incoherent babbling. With a small corner of his mind, Anders realized he was not the only one who had fallen asleep. Exhausted from their recent labors and poor diet-probably also from breathing the smoky air-they had all drifted off. If Kesia had not awakened when she had…

Then Anders realized that Kesia’s waking had not been a complete coincidence. A cream-and-gray treecat, certainly one of the two he had spotted earlier, was standing next to her. One of its upper paws-one of the “hand” set-rested on her shoulder as if it had just shaken her, while the other still pointed in the direction of the mud monster.

The latter was moving forward with more speed than Anders would have credited for something that lacked any apparent legs or even tentacles. Despite its lack of features-except for the teeth, those were all too evident-it must have had something that served as sound receptors, because Kesia’s keening had caused it to pause, rippling in place.

…In thought? In anxiety? In contemplation of where to take its first bite?

One of the above. Some of the above. All of the above, Anders thought frantically. Certainly it showed no sign of retreating, so although Kesia’s keening had disconcerted it, it wasn’t about to be scared off.

And if the treecat had taken the risk to come out and warn them, then there was no way this thing wasn’t dangerous.

Come out to warn them…Wonder filled Anders. As he got to his feet, he switched his counter-grav unit to compensate fully for the extra gravity. If they didn’t get rid of this thing, well, they’d have more serious problems than functioning under and extra. 35 gravity.

“A new species,” Dr. Calida was saying. She sounded almost as much excited as scared. “It looks as it dwells mostly in this sort of terrain, so it might be amphibious.”

“We’ve got that single tranq rifle,” Virgil said tightly. “I don’t fancy taking on that thing with a short knife, no matter what Stephanie Harrington did to that hexapuma. Who’s a good shot?”

Virgil was looking directly at Dr. Whittaker as he spoke, but Anders’ dad was shaking his head. “Since we were camping out,” Dr. Whittaker said, “we were permitted to bring the tranq rifle, but I’m not a marksman. Our main defense was going to be a sonic perimeter. They’ve had a great deal of luck with those keeping off even hexapumas.”

Dacey Emberly held out a hand. “Give it here. I haven’t shot anything for years, but Calli’s father and I used to go hunting.”

Everyone watched, tense and uncertain as the older woman took careful aim and fired. Clearly the powerful darts hit, but they didn’t seem to have any effect.

“I think,” Dr. Calida said, with detached scientific interest, “the darts embedded in the plants that grow on the thing. I wonder if it deliberately cultivates them as armor?”

“Either way,” Dacey replied. “I’m not going to get through-and that was the last dart.”

“This thing didn’t seem to like Kesia’s screaming,” Anders mused. “I sure wish we had that sonic thingie.”

Virgil dove toward one of the bags. “I think I saw…”

He raised an arm triumphantly. “Got it! I didn’t bother to set it up when we were in the trees because we were pretty safe. It should still have juice…”

Anders had raced over to Virgil’s side. The sonic perimeter guard consisted of a series of slender rods connected by an almost invisible wire.

“I have no idea how this works,” Virgil said, thrusting a couple of the rods at Anders, “but I glanced at the instructions before deciding it wouldn’t work well up in the trees. Set the posts in the ground, far enough apart that the wire is taut…”

Kesia had fallen silent, but she wasn’t so far in shock that she couldn’t help set out the rods. As they worked, Dacey looked at her daughter.

“Calli, remember that horrible campfire song you tormented us all with when you were eight?”

Dr. Calida started, then grinned. Without a pause she started singing, “Oh! In the cave there was a bear!”

The word “bear” was almost shouted, hitting one of those annoying minor-key notes that delight small children and make adults grit their teeth.

“While over the cave a puma howled!”

This was followed by sounds that might or might not have been a puma howling, but certainly made the mud creature ripple back.

The song went on, introducing more woodland creatures-owls, gautiers, screeching snakes, misty drakes-all of which made very annoying sounds. Anders noted that the treecat was shaking its head in evident distress. Nonetheless, it was counterpointing the raucous song with shrill wails of its own.

Assembling the sonic barrier required three rounds of the song. The first time they didn’t have the rods in the right way. The second time the wire was stretched too tightly. At last, Virgil called out.

“Step back. I think we’ve got the rods in the right places this time. I’m going to throw the switch.”

As the singers fell silent, the mud creature began to slide forward. For a horrible moment, Anders thought the sonic barrier wasn’t working. He was opening his mouth to start again with the bear in the cave when he saw the treecat fold down its ears and wrinkle its nose in evident distaste.

The mud creature reacted far more violently. It reeled back, the ripples of its usual movement transforming into violent waves that revealed a sleek, rubbery hide beneath the coating of mud and ooze. It retreated at least fifteen meters, sinking down into a convenient pool covered with some tiny plants.

Anders didn’t think it was gone, though, and no one else suggested that they try for shore.

“Did you see where the creature went?” Dr. Calida asked. “It retreated to where the air-van went down. I wish it had stayed where I could get some pictures.”

Dr. Whittaker looked at her in shocked disapproval, but Kesia grinned.

“I’ll draw you a picture, dear,” Dacey said, reaching for her sketchbook.

“At least for now we’re safe,” Virgil said, wiping a muddy hand across his pants leg. He already had smeared streaks on his sweaty face. “It’s not coming any closer.”

“But our problem is the same as before,” Anders replied glumly. Now that the emergency was over, he’d turned his counter-grav unit down again and he felt doubly weary for having had the respite from the extra pull. “Power. We’re safe until the battery runs out.”

He looked over at the treecat who waited patiently, curled up against Langston Nez’s side. There had been so much to do that no one had commented, but Anders saw his own awe and wonder at the treecat’s presence reflected in everyone’s eyes. Dr. Whittaker had even attempted to talk to it, but the only response his polite overtures had garnered was a definitely disapproving hiss.

Did I really see two treecats? If I did, where is the other? Could it possibly have gone for help? Anders swallowed a sigh, determined not to give in to the despair he could see on so many of his companions’ faces. Instead, he kept his gaze fixed on the power-indicator light. Even if it did, can help possibly arrive in time?

Climbs Quickly felt the awareness of Dirt Grubber’s bond to Windswept spreading through the members of the Damp Ground Clan. Reactions varied, but he thought there was more approval than not. Like Death Fang’s Bane, Windswept had demonstrated a strength of character that could not be dismissed.

He was thinking about the larger ramifications of this new event when he became aware of an eddy of alertness flowing through the clan. He was not precisely shut out. Rather, it took a moment for the “speaker” to remember to include him.

‹ My son, Left-Striped, is coming back from his scouting. He is very excited. Something about two-legs in our old home?›

This was followed by some non-verbalized grumbling along the lines of why couldn’t young people learn to speak up?

Climbs Quickly extended his mind-voice, seeking that of Left-Striped, which he had come to know well during the days the twins had stayed with the Harrington family. He found it and sent an image of the Damp Ground Clan traveling packed into the back of the slowly moving air-truck.

‹ So that is what Mother was trying to say! Elders should learn to explain things more clearly! I see now why she depicted herself as moving, but I could sense no effort. Now that I have a clearer image, I will be there shortly.›

He fell silent, but they were aware of his faint mind-glow growing stronger. Now that he had a sense of the direction from which Left-Striped was coming, Climbs Quickly turned to Death Fang’s Bane.

“Bleek!” he said, then pointed, making at the same time a motion similar to that of hands on the stick of the air car. He felt her flash of delight and amusement, then heard her making mouth noises to Shadowed Sunlight and the boy who drove the larger flying thing. The two vehicles turned almost as one.

‹ Useful,› commented Nose Biter grudgingly. ‹ Can you always get her to obey so easily?›

‹ It has taken time,› Climbs Quickly admitted, ‹ but once I felt certain that the mouth noises substitute for mind-voices, I knew we had to find a compromise. Their mind-glow is strong, perhaps as strong as that of memory singers, but largely they are mute. My throat cannot shape their noises. Even if it could, all but a very few seem capricious. Even names are difficult. The one who works the smaller vehicle and the vehicle itself are called by similar sounds. For a long time, I thought maybe they were the same.›

Nose Biter seemed interested and the discussion might have continued, but at that very moment Left-Striped came rocketing down from an overhanging branch, landing with studied skill first on the raised front part of the vehicle, then jumping down amid the members of his clan.

Climbs Quickly could hear Death Fang’s Bane explaining the situation to her friend, whose cries of surprise when Left-Striped thumped down over his head had been loud enough to carry through the closed clear sides. However, he gave most of his attention to the excited and anxious Left-Striped.

‹ As requested, my twin and I went back to our prior denning place to see if the fire had reached it. We arrived to find that although the fire was not there, the grove was not as we had expected. We had expected to find ground-runners and other creatures taking shelter from the fire near where there was water-even if in this dry season there is not much. What we found was a cluster of two-legs.

‹ They were not behaving at all normally. Instead of moving about as they usually do, these were sitting out in the middle of the bog.›

Climbs Quickly wondered at the surge of horror that went through the members of the Damp Ground Clan, but he did not wish to interrupt. If it was important, Left-Striped would explain.

‹ We found evidence that for some days before they had been dwelling-I don’t ask you to believe this, you can see if for yourself-in the rock trees. One of them was very weak. The others moved slowly as if burdened. Their scent was wrong, as if they had been eating bad foods. We guessed that when these two-legs smelled the smoke, they moved out of the trees, but, perhaps because of their injured one, they could not go far. Ignorant of the danger, they thought the bog would protect them best from fire.›

Again the shared sensation of horror.

‹ My brother stayed to watch over them, while I came back to inform you so you could decide which way the clan should go. I had not hoped to find two-legs so quickly, but I will admit, finding such would have been my next goal. These lost ones need help.›

‹ I agree,› said a rather fat and elderly female who Climbs Quickly now knew was Brilliant Images, the senior memory singer of the Damp Ground Clan. ‹ We have been helped by these two-legs. We shall help these others. In that way, all debts will be even. We must move swiftly. I can just touch the edges of Right-Striped’s mind-glow and I feel an urgency there.›

Climbs Quickly was grateful, but still confused. ‹ You of the Damp Ground Clan react as if your former nesting place is a place of danger. How could that be?›

‹ Not the net-wood,› Left-Striped explained. ‹ The bog. In it dwells a whistling sucker-a great mother. In this dry turning, she had not yet kitted, so there is just the one. We know to avoid her, but these two-legs have landed themselves directly within her favorite hunting grounds.›