"Most of them, yes," said Keesha. "Do you have a better idea?"

None that you'll like.

The telshees with Keesha were looking around uneasily. Storm didn't think they'd spent so much time above ground in a decade or more. "We'll be back at evening," said Keesha. "I'm told there's going to be a creasia battle. Will you foolishly stay for that, or shall I send some telshees with you to find your herd? I suppose that if you simply wait long enough, most of the cats will be dead. It might be easier to collect your herd then."

Storm hesitated. "We need to...think about it."

"Think fast." Keesha turned away towards the cliffs. His telshees trailed after him, although Shaw lingered a moment. Storm thought that she wanted to say something, but then she shook her head and followed Keesha.

The curbs, who'd been inordinately quiet, began to pace. "Your friend is very powerful," muttered Eyal. "That song-"

"We know," said Sauny. She retreated a little distance from the curbs. Valla was muttering in her ear.

Storm followed them. "What are you thinking?" he whispered.

"I'm thinking Arcove-in-our-debt might be better than Arcove-dead," said Sauny.

"But Keesha says he'll die anyway," Valla pointed out.

"Do you trust everything Keesha says to Arcove?" asked Sauny. She hesitated. "Or about him?"

Valla was quiet.

"Arcove is stubborn," said Storm. "I tried to make him promise to stop the raids after I got him away from Keesha in Syriot. He was practically blind with pain, and he still wouldn't say it. Kelsy tried, too, on the council ledge. I think Arcove likes Kelsy as well as he likes any of us, but he wouldn't say it then, either. If he lives, we can't control him. Even Keesha can barely control him."

Sauny was silent.

"I heard the creasia talking," whispered Valla. "They are certain that Treace will attack tonight, and there's a good chance that they'll be overrun and killed. They're badly outnumbered. They're going to die unless something extraordinary happens."

Sauny's mouth twitched up. She glanced at Storm. "How angry do you think Keesha would be if we..." She jerked her head, making the Shable bounce against her chest.

Storm laughed. "Pretty angry."

Roup expected to find Arcove in the hot spring upon his return. Arcove had been trying to crawl into it all day. Roup didn't think Arcove was delirious enough to drown, but he worried about the snow. Fat flakes had begun to drift from a sky that had turned gray with clouds, darkening to purple along the horizon like a bruise. It won't matter, Roup thought. Nothing will matter by nightfall.

Halvery was organizing their defenses as though he were already the new king. Roup let him. King for a day. However, Roup did want to make sure that the tattered remains of his own clutter got something to eat. No need to spend their final evening hungry.

Caraca had not come to Arcove's den. Roup had not expected it. Females did not normally involve themselves in male squabbles. It was not their duty, nor would it have been good for Leeshwood.

Roup was surprised that so many females from Halvery and Sharmel's dens had joined their mates. He was fairly certain that such numbers were unprecedented and he wondered what it would mean for the creasia population in the coming years if so many females were killed in the fighting. Surely Nadine and her den mates don't mean to fight with us. They are being polite because we are trapped here, but when the fighting starts, they will retreat to their caves.

Roup was surprised, when he headed back to the hot spring, to meet Arcove coming in the other direction. He knew immediately that something had happened. Arcove's eyes were bright. His hackles were up. He was moving with that surety and grace that Roup had thought never to see again.

"Arcove?"

"Where's Halvery?"

"He's..." Roup pulled himself together. "He's eating. Storm's curb friends were kind enough to bring us several sheep. Did you...did you talk to them?" Roup sniffed over Arcove, who shied away. He didn't smell as he had after returning from the deep cave. Still... "Keesha," growled Roup. "Where is he?"

Arcove glided on into the press of sleeping or resting animals around the caves. Roup had to trot to keep up. "Where is he, Arcove? I want to talk to him."

"Stay out of it, Roup." There was a warning in his voice.

Oh, no. That might work with everyone else, but not with me. "This is all his doing, isn't it? The fight, the way you've been acting... I want to speak to him."

"Well, you can't," said Arcove without looking at Roup. "We don't have much time. Let it be."

They topped a little rise behind the caves and caught sight of the b.l.o.o.d.y remains of the curbs' gift, stark against the new-fallen snow. The sheep had been rapidly stripped down to bones, and cats were now cracking those to get at the marrow. Ordinarily, they would have fed by order of rank, but in this case, the officers had attempted to ration the food evenly. No one was satisfied, but no one was faint with hunger, either.

Halvery was crunching through a sheep femur when they found him. His eyes widened at the sight of Arcove. "You look...better," he said cautiously.

"How many?" asked Arcove without preamble.

Halvery licked his lips. "As near as I can tell, we had about two hundred and fifty males going into the fight yesterday evening. The battle was poorly-planned-"

"How many?"

"We've got maybe a hundred and fifty who can fight well," said Halvery. "Another fifty or so are wounded, Sharmel among them. They'll try, of course."

"Of course."

"We estimate that Treace had about three hundred and fifty going into the fight, and I don't think he lost as many as we did. His cats were expecting a battle. Some of them actually circled around behind us while you were fighting. They attacked from the front and from the rear." Halvery hesitated. "That curb trap..."

"What about it?" Arcove's voice was unreadable.

"It was cheating, sir," said Halvery. "I think so, and I fully support you, but..."

"But the subordinate animals disagree?" asked Arcove.

"They are divided," said Halvery. "There's no traditional rule... It was an innovation." He hesitated again. "The first cat to actually touch one of the combatants was Roup when he chewed you loose." Halvery very carefully did not look at Roup.

"And they're saying I cheated because of that?" asked Arcove.

"Not loudly and not to me," said Halvery, "but I've heard rumblings. I'm sure it's what Treace is telling his lot. We've had a few desertions. I think we'll have more shortly unless something changes."

Arcove thought for a moment. "Treace probably has about three hundred cats. We have half that."

"Ours are more experienced," Halvery pointed out.

"But Treace also has lowland curbs," muttered Roup.

Halvery cleared his throat. "One other thing. A surprising number of females have come to your den. Some of them even joined in the fighting yesterday. I'm not sure how much we should depend on them, but...there are at least a hundred, maybe more."

Arcove frowned. "I'll talk to Nadine."

All three of them sat in silence for a moment. Roup noticed that Halvery kept studiously avoiding his eyes. At last, Arcove said, "We attack. The sooner the better."

"That's what I thought," said Halvery. "Treace's cats will come at evening, prepared for a b.l.o.o.d.y stand-off in these caves. We'll kill a lot of them, but they'll win that fight in the end. Right now, they're sleeping, tired from yesterday. We have had an unexpected meal, so we're feeling a little fresher. The desertions are only going to get worse, and we're only going to get hungrier. Things won't get any better than they are right now."

"Our odds are terrible," muttered Roup.

"Do you have a better idea?"

"I do." They all looked around to see Storm and Charder almost upon them, sound and scent m.u.f.fled by the falling snow. Storm was wearing the Shable-bright blue against his pale fur. "Like Roup says," continued Storm, "your odds in a fight are terrible."

Arcove was looking suspiciously between the two ferryshaft. Charder had on his political face. Roup couldn't tell what he was thinking, but he thought he detected the hint of a smile.

"This isn't the time for fighting," said Storm. "This is the time for running and hiding. Which is what I'm good at."

"Creasia kings do not run and hide," growled Halvery.

"What are you saying, Storm?" asked Roup.

"Sauny and I are offering to open Kuwee Island for you," said Storm.

Roup saw his own shock mirrored on Halvery's face. Arcove, however, didn't even blink. "If...?"

"No if," said Storm.

They were all silent, watching each other. "Where is your sister?" asked Arcove at last.

"She and Valla and Kelsy have gone to find our herd," said Storm. He hesitated. "When I came to your conference, I trusted you. Now, trust me."

Something like hope stirred inside Roup, then died instantly. Arcove will never do it.

"Kuwee Island is far away beyond an encircling line of enemy cats," said Arcove.

Storm grinned, so that points of light danced in his gray eyes. "Well, I can't tell you what to do. But I know what I would do."

"Stop being coy," said Charder. "Arcove, it's snowing. Have you seen what it's doing to the hot springs?"

Roup thought for a moment. "Oh..." Even from here, they could all see the clouds of steam, rising lazily into the gray sky.

"You want us to walk in Smokey Branch..." said Arcove slowly.

"Yes," said Storm. "Find the deepest water and move quietly. I think you'll pa.s.s right through those lines of sleeping cats and on down to Chelby Lake. By the time you reach cooler water, you'll be past the danger. Then you'll have a long run to warm up."

"That might actually work," muttered Roup. He glanced at Arcove. It's not your style. But please...

"Alright," said Arcove.

Roup thought that Halvery looked just as surprised as he felt.

Charder looked relieved. "You'll need to leave as soon as possible to get ahead of-"

"I'm aware of that," said Arcove. He started back towards the cave. "Roup, Halvery, get the clutters ready to move."

Roup looked after him uncertainly. He knew he should feel relieved, but he didn't. Something is still wrong.

Chapter 16. In the Water.

"You don't have to come," Arcove told Nadine. He watched her for a moment. Let me rephrase that. "You shouldn't come."

"Why not?" Nadine looked tired. She was staring into the tendrils of steam.

"Because king's wars are male things," said Arcove. "You didn't die with Masaran. You didn't die with Ketch. You should not die with me."

"Are you so certain that you're going to die?"

"If I don't, then I will come back, and things will be as they were."

Nadine looked at him. "I invited ferryshaft to shelter with my cubs last night, Arcove. You are about to run away from a battle- No, don't interrupt me. For what it's worth, I agree with the ferryshaft about this. If you accept their help, it will change everything. Things will never be as they were."

Well, that is true enough. "You have been den mother to half of Leeshwood," said Arcove. "Either way it goes, they will need you to-"

Nadine turned on him almost savagely. "Yes, I have been den mother for many a season, but I see fewer turn-overs than the average den. Do you know what the old females say? The ones who survive one new clutter after another?"

Arcove did not know.

"They say that you only love every other mate," said Nadine. "You love the first, and you never quite forgive his killer, no matter how kind he is to you. The third mate avenges the first, and so you love him, but the fourth you hate again, and so on. Each time, you love the cubs a little less, because you cannot afford to love them too much. And you love the males a little less, too, because if you love them too much, you'll die of a broken heart. You love your female den mates; they are all you can afford. And this is the way it has been for as long as we have stories of our past. It is our nature. It is our way."

Arcove was silent. She'd never spoken to him this way-not in all their years together.

Nadine drew a deep breath. "Do you remember the first thing you said to me when you walked into my den?"

Arcove did not remember. He remembered that Roup had been pacing anxiously outside.

"You looked at my cub-Ketch's cub-and you asked, 'What's his name?'"

Arcove did remember then. He remembered her dignity and the resignation on her carefully blank face when she responded, 'Does it matter?' Arcove had said, 'How else will I know what to call him?' He'd not been sure, even then, whether she thought his behavior weak or merely eccentric. She'd started giving him advice, though. It had taken him years to realize how unusual that was.

"You said that," whispered Nadine, "and I knew. Before the war. Before Kuwee. Before Coden. I knew you were going to change everything." She took a deep breath. "If males can stop killing cubs, then females can start fighting wars. We're coming with you."