Hunters Unlucky Part 72

No, I could not. "I didn't mean to scratch you," said Arcove instead.

"I've had worse scratches from you," said Keesha. "Do we have a deal or not?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Not much of one. Although I suppose you could hide or try to get yourself killed."

"Deal," said Arcove quietly.

Chapter 24. Regret.

Later in the day, when most of the cats were sleeping, Shaw found Keesha on the eastern sh.o.r.e of Kuwee Island, looking out into the lake. She considered a tactful approach. But we've known each other too long for that. "You're going to regret it."

"Regret what?"

You know what. They were silent a moment. Shaw knew that Keesha was expecting her to say something, and she took a perverse pleasure in not saying it.

"You think it was irresponsible," said Keesha at last.

Blood music? Yes, I think it was incredibly irresponsible. "If you had gotten even one note wrong," Shaw said softly, "it could have affected everyone who heard you."

"But I didn't," said Keesha.

"No," agreed Shaw, "you did exactly what you meant to do." And you're going to regret it.

Keesha said nothing.

"Can you change what happens at the end of the song? Even if you wanted to?"

"I did not make it to be changed," snapped Keesha.

So that's a no, then. "There's an echo, isn't there?" asked Shaw. "When you're touching him, you soak up some of the effects."

Keesha grunted.

"Could you soak up enough to stop it from killing him?"

"It doesn't work that way," said Keesha. "What makes you think I want to?"

Shaw sighed. "Do you want me to go to Syriot and bring other telshees to help? I'm not sure how many will be able or willing on short notice, but I'm sure some would come at your summons."

"No," said Keesha. "Enough telshees have died on Kuwee Island. This is between me and Arcove." His ruff was bristling. Shaw could tell that, if she said the wrong thing, he would order her to go home.

She looked out into the lake where, more than a decade ago, Keesha and Arcove had nearly killed each other in the shallow water. It may seem like yesterday to you, but everyone else has changed while you were sleeping. "I was never in favor of our involvement with land animals," said Shaw at last.

Keesha's eyes flicked at her. "And yet here you are."

"Here I am," agreed Shaw. She allowed herself a mischievous grin. "Because I missed you."

Keesha's ruff settled a little. "I am not the villain here," he muttered.

I think that depends on where you're standing. "I was looking at these human paintings," said Shaw. "They seem to have held telshees in high regard. Do you think they wors.h.i.+ped us?"

Keesha considered. "Possibly. They may have consulted us for guidance, at least."

"And now they're all gone," said Shaw thoughtfully. "Doesn't seem like we did a very good job, does it?"

In the pre-dawn light, Treace paced the edge of the lake, watching Kuwee Island. Every now and then, he caught sight of one of Arcove's cats, peering from the underbrush or moving cautiously along the bank. Yes, thought Treace, take a good look. Figure your odds. Then desert today while they're all sleeping. They'd welcomed a trickle of Arcove's supporters after the battle in the clearing. Treace had no doubt that more would follow from Kuwee.

How sweet it would be, he thought. If Arcove ended up starving in there with nothing left but his officers and mates. Maybe I should offer them exile instead of killing them. Send them to eke out a living for themselves in the Southern Mountains and then send young cats after them every spring to hone our fighting skills. Treace could think of all kinds of uses for hostile exiles. The young cats need something to fight. Arcove never understood that.

There was no need to force a confrontation on Kuwee in any event. Treace had had a pleasant night of hunting small game, and he planned to have many more. Of course, they will try to force a confrontation as they get hungrier. Soon they'll be down to nothing but fish. Then the edge of the lake will freeze... Will they eat Storm and Charder before the end? That would be fitting.

Treace was startled when the dark silhouette of another cat came staggering towards him out of the gloom of the trees. The cat did not call or speak, and he was walking like a wounded animal. His scent, coming to Treace on the breeze, seemed deeply flawed.

Treace wrinkled his nose and hissed. He was about to call to his followers, when he caught the flash of pale nose leather-closer to white, now, than to pink. Treace's mouth went suddenly dry.

The cat stopped in front of him. Its fur was black, but so bedraggled with mud and twigs that he could hardly tell. White bone showed through the fur of one leg. The eyes glowed green. "h.e.l.lo," croaked a familiar voice. "I have been Moro."

In the early morning, just as the rim of the sky began to glow, Arcove walked the eastern edge of Kuwee Island. Roup, Halvery, Charder, and Storm came behind him. They'd all slept that afternoon and Storm thought that everyone had gotten at least a little something to eat. That won't be true for long, though. We need to win and win fast.

Treace, of course, would feel differently. He was showing his strength along the edge of the lake-creasia lounging, fis.h.i.+ng, even sleeping along the sh.o.r.e in full view of the island. Storm saw quite a few curbs as well-trotting through the trees of Chelby Wood, resting in the long lake gra.s.ses, hunting small water birds. They stretched as far as his eyes could see in either direction along the dawn sh.o.r.e.

Storm s.h.i.+vered. He glanced at Arcove. We are outnumbered at least three-to-one.

If Arcove felt despair, he didn't show it. In fact, he seemed much improved in both body and mind since Keesha's intervention. He studied the sh.o.r.e and listened to Roup and Halvery.

"The problem is," Storm heard Halvery say, "they can sit there and watch us swim over. They've got plenty of time to congregate wherever we're coming ash.o.r.e. Then they can leap on us from the bank and kill our cats before they've gotten their feet under them. We don't have the numbers to overwhelm them. We need a distraction."

Where are you, Sauny?

Charder said what Storm had been thinking all day. "If Sauny and Kelsy manage to bring the ferryshaft herd, you'll get your distraction."

"That will never happen," said Arcove without looking at Charder. He thought for a moment. "If a few of our strongest swimmers struck out north...came ash.o.r.e beyond Treace's cats...circled around behind them..."

"Treace would see them swimming," objected Halvery.

"Not necessarily," said Storm. "You get fog sometimes here in the mornings. The first time I swam out to Kuwee, I almost got lost in the fog."

The three creasia considered. "That might work," said Roup. "We'd have to wait for fog."

"Or snow or heavy rain," put in Charder. "Lots of things at this time of year might obscure the view from the sh.o.r.e."

"If those things don't kill the swimmers," muttered Halvery. "It's a good idea, though."

Treace stared. His nose was telling him one thing, and his eyes were telling him something else. He took a step back. "Moro? Is...is that really you?"

The cat c.o.c.ked his head-an odd, bird-like gesture that Treace had never seen Moro make. "Yes, we are Moro. We have remembered his cubhood with you, his interest in the ghost plants, his many killings of cubs, his matings with dying-"

"That's enough," snapped Treace. "Who...who else are you?"

The glowing green eyes watched him with curiosity. It seemed to consider. "We are also Selka, Melae, Pathar, Oslan..." As the creature continued to rattle off names, Treace saw other shapes farther away along the edge of the lake-walking or staggering or dragging in his direction.

"That's enough." Treace felt as though he could not quite get his breath. He wanted this thing away from him-far, far away. He felt a mixture of grief, disgust, fear, and anger. Moro... Why did you ever have to take an interest in lishties? Treace tried to put even these feelings away from him.

"What do you want?" he asked. "My cats and I are laying siege to Kuwee Island. Arcove's creasia are trapped there."

Moro peered in the direction of the island. "We desire more hosts," the thing said, "more names, more memories. Also, we have promised to help you. We remember this."

The knot of fear loosened a little in Treace's chest. He was beginning to see the advantages of forcing a swift confrontation on Kuwee. "Well, then, I think we can help each other."

Chapter 25. Surprise.

Arcove was turning to go back up to the cave when Roup said, "Wait." He'd gone rigid, staring at the far sh.o.r.e.

"What is it?" asked Halvery after a moment. Storm couldn't see what Roup was looking at, either.

"There in the reeds," muttered Roup. "I thought I saw..."

And then Storm saw it, too, although he didn't understand why Roup was excited. There appeared to be an oory slinking cautiously through the tall water gra.s.ses. The oory was a strange color-almost white. As they watched, it paddled out into the lake towards the island. If Treace's cats saw it, they weren't interested.

Roup was dancing back and forth. "Get under the trees," he hissed, and then he gave that strange bird-like trill that he used with his clutter. The oory perked up its ears and angled towards them. It gave a mew that carried over the water.

"It's Friendly, isn't it?" said Arcove to Roup.

"It's what?" asked Halvery in bewilderment.

"Caraca's tame oory," said Arcove.

Storm was lost. Charder leaned over and said in his ear, "Caraca is Roup's mate. I've heard about this oory, but I've never seen it."

"I think we're all about to get a good look," whispered Storm. "Why is it-?"

But the white oory had splashed out of the water and was sniffing its way up the bank. Roup had backed into the shadow of the trees and underbrush so that the creasia on sh.o.r.e couldn't see him. He called again, and the oory ran to him. It mewed and rubbed around his legs like a young cub, making that throbbing noise that Teek sometimes made when he was extremely pleased.

Halvery took a step back with an expression of confusion and disgust. "It's just Friendly," Roup tried to explain. "That's its name."

"I gathered that," said Halvery. "What is it doing here?"

Arcove had come forward, but Friendly s.h.i.+ed away from him.

"It knows me," Roup said. He was sniffing at the little animal, pus.h.i.+ng it this way and that. "Oh, Caraca," he muttered. "You came after all."

Halvery was looking out towards the sh.o.r.e. "It's a little late to get to the island," he said.

"She's not coming alone." Roup was practically cackling. "She's trying to tell us to get ready."

"Halvery," said Arcove suddenly, "get back up to the cave and bring everyone who can fight down to the sh.o.r.e. I think we're about to get that distraction."

When Halvery was gone, Arcove glanced at Roup and laughed. "What did she do? Get them all to lick it?"

"I think so, yes," said Roup. "There's scent here from at least a dozen creasia, maybe more."

"That's clever," murmured Charder. "Sending it through Treace's cats because they wouldn't pay attention to it... Very clever."

"Caraca was always that," said Roup. "I hope she doesn't plan on actually fighting, because she's not very big."

"Who do you think she's brought?" asked Storm. "I thought we had all the creasia here."

"A lot of females stayed behind in their dens," said Roup. "A lot of them didn't even know we were at war."

"It would only take a dozen of them to create enough of a distraction to give us a chance," said Arcove.