Chapter 18. Mistakes of the Past.

Over the next few days, the ferryshaft herd drifted in, and Storm almost forgot his worries for the future. The air was warm and the water of the lake delightfully cool. Frogs and insects filled the evenings with sounds that Storm a.s.sociated with contentment and plenty. Fireflies winked under the trees at night. The gra.s.s was sweet and tender, and small game was plentiful in Chelby Wood.

Storm taught Teek to swim and then to fish. Teek wasn't very good at fishing yet. Storm wondered whether fish were a normal part of a creasia's diet. He was beginning to realize exactly how much he did not know about cats. Teek had, at least, grown proficient at catching the rodents that whisked about under the leaves, and young birds were also in abundance. He tried, repeatedly, to eat gra.s.s like a ferryshaft, but it only made him vomit.

Storm stayed out of sight of the herd on most days, but Tollee and Myla made frequent appearances. Myla was learning to talk, asking a thousand questions. Teek tried to teach her to hunt, which proved comical.

"I won't take a mate this fall," said Tollee one day out of nowhere. "I don't think it would be fair to Myla."

"You're probably right," said Storm. "My mother didn't take a second mate until I was a year and a half old."

They were silent a moment. "I really am sorry about Mylo," said Storm.

Tollee looked out over the plain. "Well, we made our trade. I had his foal...and he saved your life."

Storm winced. After a moment, he said, "I'm only four years old. I'm not even sure I could father a foal."

Tollee smirked. "But you'd like to try."

"You'd like to let me." Storm couldn't believe he'd said it aloud, but now that the words were out of his mouth, there was nothing to do but try to look confident.

Tollee snorted a laugh. "You think so?" Her hackles were up, but so were her ears and tail-mixed signals of aggression and play.

She's flirting with me, thought Storm with a jolt.

Near the tree line, Teek was trying to get Myla to chase him, dancing around her and nipping at her ears and tail. Myla would play along briefly, and then become distracted by a blade of gra.s.s or a dragonfly.

"I'd stay," Storm said. "Even if you don't want to risk getting pregnant this year. I'd be your mate and help take care of Myla next winter." I'd never treat her the way Dover treated me.

Tollee started to say something. Then her expression changed. "Storm..."

He turned around. Three ferryshaft were coming towards them from the direction of the herd. Storm recognized all of them. He stood up. "Maybe you should go."

Tollee snorted. "So that a bunch of males can decide my fate?"

"I don't think it's your fate we'll be deciding."

"I'm staying right here."

Charder walked a little in front of the group, Kelsy almost abreast of him, and Pathar picking his way along behind. When they came within hailing distance, Kelsy trotted out in front, tail waving. "Storm!"

Storm did not smile. "Kelsy."

"You're looking well," said Kelsy.

"And you're looking like trouble. What do you want?"

Kelsy gave him a wounded expression. "If anyone's got a right to be unfriendly, it's me. You behaved very badly the last time I invited you to a conference."

"I never promised to behave well," said Storm.

"We'd like to speak to you alone," said Charder more quietly. "Can your...uh...friend watch the...um..." He glanced towards Teek and Myla.

"I think his mate deserves to know what you want," said Tollee. "The foal and the cub are fine."

Mate? Storm had to exercise every bit of his self-control to avoid turning to see whether she looked serious. She sounded serious.

Before he could think what to say, Charder said, "Very well. It has been suggested-strongly suggested-that you, Storm, should come to the fall conference with the creasia this year."

"Haven't they learned better than to invite me to conferences?" asked Storm.

"Furthermore," continued Charder, "you are to bring the cub. They will take him back to Leeshwood and guarantee his safety if you come and talk to them."

Storm drew a deep breath. "What if I don't want to send him-?"

Pathar spoke for the first time. "Do you want him to grow up, Storm? Because this is probably his only chance."

Before Storm could answer, Charder said, "If you agree to this, I will tolerate the presence of a creasia cub around my herd this summer. If you do not agree, I will make your life here very difficult." His voice had grown icy. "I know you think me impotent, but I a.s.sure you that I am capable of enforcing exile on a ferryshaft who has become a threat to my herd. You've walked that line for most of your life, and now you've crossed it."

Storm felt himself bristle all over.

Kelsy stepped between Charder and Storm. "Stop it," he snarled at Charder. "I told you to let me talk." Before Charder could answer, he turned back to Storm. "There were no raids this winter because the creasia are having overpopulation problems. Now, a number of cats have migrated south-something that Arcove has never allowed before. Things are changing, Storm. This is our chance to renegotiate the treaty. You started this. Please come and be a part of it now that we're finally getting somewhere."

Storm's eyes flicked around the group. "Why me?" he said at last. "I haven't really accomplished anything. Is it just because of Teek?"

Kelsy barked a laugh. "'Haven't really accomplished anything'? Storm, you beat Arcove."

Storm smiled. "I did not beat Arcove. I barely survived."

"How many animals on Lidian can say that they survived when Arcove tried to kill them?"

"You're trying to flatter me."

"Is it working?" Kelsy grinned. "Or should Charder try threatening you again?"

Charder rolled his eyes. "That was not a threat. It was a promise. A creasia cub in the ferryshaft herd is a bad idea."

Storm peered at him. "Because it's been tried before?"

Kelsy looked confused. Behind him, Charder and Pathar glanced at each other.

"Oh, so you haven't told Kelsy about Roup?" asked Storm.

Kelsy looked at his elders. "Told me what about Roup?"

"That he was raised in the ferryshaft herd," said Storm.

"That's enough," hissed Charder.

"Is that why you're worried about Teek?" asked Storm. "Because Roup grew up to be-"

"Come with me," interrupted Pathar in the tone he'd used when Storm was a spring foal and behaving badly. He started away towards the lake.

Storm glanced at the others. "Go," said Charder, his eyes narrowed to slits. "Before you make me regret asking him to train you."

Storm blinked. "You asked Pathar to-?"

"Now, Storm!" thundered Pathar from the edge of the trees.

Myla and Teek had stopped playing and were staring uncertainly at the adults. Storm started after Pathar. "It's alright," he told Teek as he pa.s.sed. "I'm not going far. Just stay with Myla."

Pathar turned at the edge of the lake, completely out of sight of the others. He didn't look angry anymore. He looked haunted.

Something clicked in Storm's head. "You were the one who took him," he whispered. Keesha didn't mention that detail...but it makes sense.

When Pathar said nothing, Storm continued. "You took Roup to...experiment...because you've always been the curious sort...haven't you, Pathar?" The sort who'd drink from the poisoned waters of Groth just to see what would happen.

"Who told you?" asked Pathar.

"Does it matter?"

"Yes, because there are several sides to that story."

"Well, tell me the side that doesn't involve you torturing a baby to satisfy your curiosity."

Pathar shut his eyes. "I did not bring him back to the herd to torture him. I just wanted to watch him develop." He took a deep breath. "There were so many things we didn't know about creasia. Some still claimed that cats could only learn to talk if they were weaned on the blood of a talking animal. Some claimed that they couldn't learn to read because they lacked the necessary intelligence. I didn't think that was true. I wanted to know what was true."

Pathar's eyes looked dark and sad in the pale-frosted fur of his face. Frosted with age? Storm had always a.s.sumed so, and Pathar was certainly very gray around the muzzle. Still... "Are we related, Pathar?"

"Coden's father was my brother."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"I brought Roup back from a hunt, and Akea offered to nurse him with her own foal. That was mercy, wasn't it? All the rest of the cubs we found that day were killed and eaten."

"The version I heard didn't sound very merciful."

"Many of the herd elders took an interest in my little project. It affected the safety of the herd, so I couldn't very well refuse them."

"So every idiot who had an idea got to try it?" asked Storm. He couldn't help thinking of Teek-wide-eyed and trusting, trying so hard to do whatever Storm told him.

"They fed him all kinds of things," muttered Pathar, "poisonous plants, dirt, rotten meat-it's amazing that he grew up at all. He was often sick. He hardly ever complained, though." Pathar looked as though he'd swallowed something bitter. "Coden figured out what we were doing when he was still quite young. He was always a bright one. There were others who didn't like to see Roup hurt, but in the end, Coden was the only one willing to risk anything for him."

Pathar drew a deep breath. "We thought we were studying Roup during those three years, but sometimes I think it was the other way around. Arcove certainly seemed to understand ferryshaft to a degree that his predecessors had not. I'm sure Roup told him things."

Storm listened in silence.

"Do you think I don't regret what happened?" whispered Pathar. "We paid for it. Paid and paid. All the herd elders who hurt Roup died in the war."

"Did Roup hunt them down?" asked Storm.

"No, but Arcove did." Pathar shuddered. "I'm sure I'm only alive because I'm good at predicting the Volontaro. I am telling you this, Storm, so that you will not make my mistake."

"Your mistake wasn't saving him, Pathar. It was what you did afterward."

Pathar shook his ears. "I had good intentions. So do you. But it won't end well. Our two species don't mix."

"Coden and Roup were friends."

"And Coden died when he was fifteen years old," said Pathar, "while Roup watched. Remember that, Storm, when you look at this cub."

Part V. Treace.

Chapter 1. Winter Conference.

Storm walked along the Igby beneath the tall riverside trees, through mounds of fall leaves, and thought. It was a perfectly clear day with a fathomless blue sky and a crisp breeze that parted his winter coat in ripples. Teek bounded along ahead of him, scattering leaves and pouncing on anything that scampered or fluttered out of them. He was as large as a lamb now-robust and healthy with a dense winter coat of his own.

"Is this where you dumped Halvery in the river?" he asked gleefully.

Storm gave a crooked smile. "Not quite. It's a little farther on."

"You'll tell me when we get there?"

"I suppose."

Storm was regretting his decision, earlier that summer, to tell Teek and Myla about some of his more exciting chases. They had both sat enraptured while he recounted his struggles to survive. After that, he was not permitted to sleep in the evenings until he recounted a chase. When he ran out of stories, they made him repeat them. Teek now had what Storm could only describe as an unhealthy familiarity with Arcove and his officers-more as legends than as real animals.