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Copyright © 1984 by Clare Bell

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WPH

To my friends,
Dorothy and Donya,
who wen; there at the beginning

Clan Ground

CHAPTER

1




THE GATHERING was to take place in the older
part of the meadow, about the flat-topped stone
the herders called die sunning rock. Thakur, the herding
teacher for the clan, arrived first. With a glance over the
meadow to see if anyone else was coming, he bunched his
hindquarters and leaped up on the gray Stone, then
stretched out to catch the sun's last warmth. Insects droned
about his ears and a rock lizard hissed at him for taking
the best spot. He nicked his tail at the lizard once, then
ignored it

Thakur shifted himself in the slight hollow worn by
the many who had lain there before him and felt the sun-
gathered heat of the stone through the fur of his belly. He
folded his forepaws beneath him and let a soft purr flutter
in his throat as the evening breeze ruffled the fur on his
back. Then the breeze died away and only the twilight
Stillness and the scent of the sunning rock rose up about
him.

The stone he lay on had its own scent. One couldn't
smell it when there were other, stronger odors in the air
or a wind blowing, but at other rimes, one could catch the

4
faint scent of ancient rock baked by sun and beaten by

ram.

Thakur's purr grew softer until it faded. He felt slightly
ill-at-ease sitting here where Ratha, the clan leader, would
be when the clan assembled. He thought of the Firekeepers
and the dance-hunt that was soon to come. The sunning
rock seemed to cool beneath him and he shivered.

The dance-hunt had begun as a story, a retelling of the
clan's battle against the Un-Named Ones who preyed on
the herd and drove die clan to the edge of destruction.
Bearing a strange new creature called the Red Tongue, a
young female led the fight, striking such fear into the
raiders that they trampled their own wounded as they fled.
Few of the Un-Named had been seen near clan ground
since the final battle. By her courage and wit, Ratha had
gained clan leadership and the tale was begun to honor
her.

The herding teacher was old enough to carry the scars
from that fight and to recall how the story had been first
told. He also remembered how it changed in the telling.
Those who told it added movements to their words and the
words themselves became a chant to which the tale-tellers
swayed.

In the first cycle of seasons after Ratha's victory, anyone
could be chosen to tell and act the story. Later, the Fire-
keepers, who had been given the duty of keeping Ratha's
creature, claimed die honor as theirs. They enlarged it,
adding more individuals to play the parts of enemies and
defenders. They added more morion, until it changed from
an acted tale to a dance.

Much less to Thakur's liking was the way the story
changed from triumphant to vengeful and the dancer's
morions from joyous to frenzied. Somehow Ratha didn't

seem to notice, or, if she did, she thought the change was
unimportant. Each season Thakur disliked the dance-hunt
ritual more, for it kindled in him a strange fear, one he
couldn't put a name to.

Perhaps he felt the fear because his own ties to the
Un-Named were too close. Though born of a clan female,
Thakur and his brother Bonechewer were sired by an Un-
Named male. Clan law forbade such matings and for good
reason: they often produced young who lacked die intelli-
gence and self-awareness necessary to a people who called
themselves Named. Though Thakur's mother had been
exiled for violating that law, the old clan leader had seen
the light of the Named in the cubs' eyes and had tried to
keep them within the clan. In the end, Thakur had stayed
behind, while Bonechewer was taken by his mother to Join
die Un-Named. Because of his parentage, Thakur had
never been fully accepted in the clan until Ratha's ascend-
ancy gave him the status to which his abilities entitled him.

The high grass parted far across the meadow and he
heard the noise of other herders and the sound of herdbeast
carcasses being carried and dragged. The clan would feast
well before the dance-hunt. They had chosen a three-horn
doe and a big stag, one almost too heavy for the jaws that
held it.

He watched the herders come across die meadow, their
fawn and golden brown pelts melding into the colors of
the dry grasses. His own coat was a dark coppery shade not
common among those of the clan.

Thakur's task of teaching clan cubs to manage dapple-
backs and three-horns didn't include helping to cull the
animals. Sometimes he did help, for the younger herders
often needed skill and experience as well as raw strength.
But Thakur was willing to let die others do the killing.

6

Many herdbeasts have felt my teeth and there will be
more, he thought, I have grown old enough to know each
ammal I take and to sorrow as much as rejoice in its death.

When the herders drew near, they waved their tails at
him to come and help drag the carcasses the last distance
to the sunning rock. The rich smell of meat coaxed Thakur
down off his perch. He hurried to seize a dragging hock,
for he knew that those who helped to carry the culled
beasts would be among the first to eat. Of course Ratha
came before any of them, but she always left plenty.

The order in which the clan ate would change tonight,
for the Firekeepers needed to keep their bellies empty to
meet the exertion of the dance-hunt. The second animal
the herders had culled would be saved to feed the dancers.

By the time all the clan herders had their turn at the
first kill, twilight was past and the stars shone overhead.
Despite his uneasiness, Thakur had eaten well and carried
a rib bone away with him to crack and lick while he waited
for the dance-hunt to assemble. Hunger was not so strong
m his mind now as it had been earlier, and, as he savored
the salty marrow, he remembered the Un-Named raider
that he and die other herders had chased away that morn-
ing. Near clan ground the Un-Named were few and widely
scattered, but every once in a while one or two would come
on their land, driven by drought and poor hunting.

Thakur didn't know why this Un-Named One had come.
The scranger had lacked the strength to try for even the
weakest dappleback. He was so starved that he looked like
a yearling, although the length of his teeth and his ragged
silver-gray coat told Thakur he was older. The herding
teacher remembered the stranger's face, a face so drawn
that bones of cheek and jaw showed under the sparse pelt.
/ hope these three-homs were slain downwmd of the Un-


Named One. It would be cruel of us to make him smell
what he may not eat.

Several Firekeepers passed Thakur, carrying kindling in
their jaws. They threaded a path through the danfolk,
leaving the scent of pitch pine on the evening breeze. He
warched them arrange the wood in a pile and depart to
fetch more. Thakur's teeth ached at the thought of their
task and he felt glad he taught herding.

He listened to the sound of grunting and crunching
nearby as powerful jaws cracked a stag's thighbone. He
worked his own piece of rib around to the side of his
mouth and chewed it absently. The herder next co him,
who had broken the thighbone, sat up stiffly, his nose
raised and his whiskers back.

"What's in the wind, Cherfan?" Thakur asked, knowing
his neighbor by the latter's scent. Cherfan stiffened again
and lay down. "I thought I caught a whiff of that raider we
chased away."

The herding teacher tested the breeze and found only
the familiar smells of danfolk. "Your nose must be play-
ing tricks on you. That Un-Named One barely escaped us.
He wouldn't be able to drag himself this far. If he isn't
dead yet, he will be in a few days."

"And I'll be the one who has to carry him away. Phew!
I get all the smelly jobs," Cherfan grumbled and then
added, "Look, there's Ratha."

A slim shape padded across the starlit meadow and
leaped to the top of the sunning rock. At her arrival, the
gathering grew quiet. Mothers hushed restless cubs and
those chewing on bones put them aside. Several Fire-
keepers left bearing branches in their mouths, and Thakur
knew they had gone to light their brands at the dens
where the fire-creature was kept.

8

Across the dark grass, Thakur saw the flickering light
of torches. Far away as they were, the approaching fire-
brands seemed to challenge the cold light of the Stars. In
the gathering circle, heads turned and eyes glowed red at
their centers. A soft wail started up from many throats. It
grew louder and gained rhythm as the firebearers drew
nearer. The wails and howls joined into a worldless song
that praised the Red Tongue. Thakur felt the cry welling
in his own throat and clamped his jaws together to stop it.

Now the gathered races were lit; shadows fled across
the pale grass as if they were live creatures that dreaded
the coming of the power die clan called the Red Tongue.
As the shadows of tree and bush escaped into the lair of
night, other forms, hidden beyond the approaching fire-
light, crept toward the torchbearers.

Two odors came to Thakur from two different direc-
tions. From the Firekeepers came a sharp, excited smell,
an aggressive scent that stung his nose as much as the
smoke from their brands. From the others, the mock
enemy in the dance, came a bitter smell that brought acid
into the back of his throat and dried his tongue.

The dance-hunt began. The torchbearers leaped into the
center of the circle and tfae fire seemed to fly with them.
Their faces were visible now, their muzzles outlined
against the fierce light of their brands. At the opposite side
of the circle, those who had no fire froze and flattened in
the grass.

Thakur felt his neck fur prickle. Every time I see this,
I have to remind myelf it is not a real fight. I wish they
didn't do it so well.

One of the torchbearers crossed the open ground before
the sunning rock and swung his brand down to light the
brush pile at its base. From the "Un-Named" side came

snarls and someone leaped with forepaws flung apart,
mouth open and red.

The torchbearer starred and shied, pulling back his
brand. Another "enemy" sprang onto him, dragging him
down by his hindquarters. His firebrand fell and smoked.
The clan's wail died to a hiss. The Firekeepers charged,
routing the raiders, pushing them into the darkness- But
soon their opponents crept back and attacked once more.

The clan's song rose and fell, becoming a wordless
chant that followed the pace of the battle. As the torch-
bearers stalked their night-hidden opponents, the voices
hushed to a murmur. At each run and clash, they rose to a
shriek.

The battle followed the chant as well, for the Fire-
keepers' seeps came to that rhythm and those who played
the Un-Named crept and flattened to the pulse of the cry.
About Thakur, tails swished and paws struck the ground
together. He felt himself drawn into the rhythm with
every breath he took and every movement he made. He
clenched his teeth and drove his claws into the ground.

/ saw no harm m this dance when it began as a Joyful
celebration. But season by season, it has changed into
something fierce and cruel.

The fight grew wilder. Some of the Un-Named fell and
rolled as if dead. Bums and scratches showed along their
sides, beading blood. A new smell tainted the air and
Thakur knew that some torchbearers had forgotten that
this fight wasn't real. He shifted, flattening his ears.
Ratha, can't you see what the Red Tongue has done to OUT
people?

He sought the eyes that glowed green from the sunning
rock, but she, like the others, was coo mesmerized by the
dance-hunt to look back at him.

10

Despite the smell and feel of bodies close about him,
Thakur felt isolated. He watched the limp forms that he
knew were living, and sweated through his pawpads. He
felt as though his fear made a change in his scent that
would betray him as half-clan and vulnerable to the hate
being howled at the enemy. Beside him, Cherfan sniffed,
turning his nose toward Thakur even though his eyes
remained fixed on the scene before him. Thakur tried to
calm himself, knowing that his neighbors might detect
his uneasiness.

In the circle, the battle split apart into individual fights
as the Firekeepers stalked the remaining enemy. The com-
batants whirled, lunged and struck with claws and fire-
brands. The song and the fight grew fiercer, until the last
of the enemy was driven away into the darkness. A pant-
ing torchbearer came forward to light die brush pile and
Thakur could see it was the Firekeeper leader, Fessran.
She tossed her torch into the tinder and flame leaped up.

He heard her voice above the roar and crackle. "Is it
well, Tamer of the Red Tongue and Giver of the New
Law?"

"It is well, Firekeeper," came Ratha's reply from the
sunning rock. "My creature is still strong. It will defend
us against the Un-Named as it did when we drove them
from clan ground."

Her voice was strong, but it sounded to Thakur as
though she had pulled herself from a daze. He wondered
if she understood at last the dangers of the ritual that she
had created. But whatever thoughts she had then were
interrupted as Fessran drew back her whiskers as if smell-
ing some new and threatening scent. She peered intently
into the night, suddenly rose from her place at the front
of the gathering and left the bonfire.

11

Ratha sprang to her feer. For an instant, she looked
puzzled, then her gaze followed Fessran's and her call
began to wag angrily, challenging the intrusion. "Hold,
Firekeeper!" Ratha cried, staring inco the darkness beyond
the circle. "The hunt is not finished."

Silence swept across the clan as all eyes followed her
gaze. Another smell filled the air, pungent and sour. It
spoke of desperation mixed with fear in the form of a
stranger who sdll lurked outside the circle. All Tnakur's
hairs stood on end, for he knew by the scent who the
intruder was. Around him other herders bristled in re-
sponse to the invasion.

Quietly the herding teacher left his place, circling
around the outside of the group. He saw Cherfan and
Shoman plunge into the night after the intruder. When
Thakur had almost caught up with them, Cherfan re-
appeared taufirst, his teeth fastened in a bony leg. With
one heave the big herder yanked the stranger into the
circle of firelight.

The captive made a frantic series of jerks as if he could
tear the leg off and leave it between Cherfan's jaws. Then
with a hoarse cry, the silvercoat twisted and lunged, his
fangs seeking the herder's cheek- Thakur leaped, seized the
silver's scruff and pulled his head back. The teeth clicked
together in front of Cherfan's face.

Thakur wrinkled his nose at the pungent rasre of an
ill-kept pelt. He could see Cherfan grimace as fleas jumped
from the captive's hindquarters onto the herder's nose.
More of the Named sprang on the stranger and a howl
went up. The Firekeepers ran to help and were halfway
across open ground when Ratha's snarl halted them. "Stop
the fight," she ordered- "Bring this stranger to me."

The clan was so fevered from the dance-hunt that the

12

scuffle continued for a few more moments before it finally
stopped. Thakur lost his hold on the stranger's ruff and
backed out of the fight. The herders Shoman and Cherfan
emerged from the fray dragging the tattered form of the
Un-Named One. There was more red than gray on his fur
now. Shoman wrenched him back and forth, rearing his
ruff. With an angry grunt, Cherfan pulled the Un-Named
One from Shoman's jaws and dragged him to the sunning
rock. The torchbearers surrounded him with their brands
so that Ratha could see him. The captive squinted and shut
his eyes against the fierce light.

Thakur shook his head and smoothed the fur ruffled by
the fight. This morning he was too weak to be a danger
to the herdbeasts. Now he has asked for death by coming
here.

The corchbearers pulled back their brands and the cap-
dve's eyes opened. Thakur looked into them, expecting
to see a dull green or yellow stare clouded by panic, and
the inability to understand. He had seen it before: the
gaze of animals who resembled the Named in every way
except for the lack of light in their eyes.

The herding teacher flinched in surprise at what he
saw. The Un-Named One's eyes shone orange. Not amber,
but a deep, glowing orange, the color at the center of the
Red Tongue. In the depths of those eyes, almost masked
by rage and fear, was a clarity and intensity Thakur hadn't
expected.

Others of the Named had seen it too. Suddenly the
invader had become more than a scavenging animal.

Thakur saw Ratha lean so far down from the rock he
thought she might tumble off. Slowly the Un-Named One
lifted his muzzle to meet her stare. The silvercoat opened

15

his mouth and Thakur tensed, ready to spring to Raiha's
aid if the Un-Named One attacked her.

What came from the stranger's Jaws was not a roar of
challenge nor a whimper of fear, but words in clan speech.

"Not bite. Not claw," he said in a hoarse voice. "Came
to clan. Not to kill."

The words were awkward and ill-spoken, but under-
standable. This time Ratha did slip and had to scramble
to regain her seat. The other clanfolk stared at each other
in disbelief.

"No kills." The silvercoat put out a stiff forefoot. "Sniff
paw. No deer-smell. No horse-smell. No blood." He kept
the leg extended, although it trembled from weariness.

No one else moved. Thakur saw Ratha look coward
him. "Herding teacher, you know the scents of our animals
better than anyone else. Tell me if what he says is so."

As Thakur approached the crouching silvercoat, she
added, "If there is even a trace of a herdbeast's scent on
him, he will die now by my fangs."

The herding teacher circled the Un-Named One, smell-
ing him carefully from all sides and trying to ignore the
Stench from filth and festering sores. He pawed dirt away
from between the toes so he could smell the soil without
the other's odor intruding. When he finished, he stood
back and said, "He has eaten only roots and grubs. There
is no herdbeast smell on him."

Ratha peered down at the orange-eyed silvercoat. "So
Thakur says you have made no kills on clan ground. Why
have you come here?"

"Clan is fierce and strong. Clan eats while Un-Named
grow thin and die. This one, Orange-Eyes, not ready to die."

The hostile muttering faded. The Un-Named One

14

glanced about. "Orange-Eyes is clever, like clan. Not
afraid. Should be with clan," Boldly he added. "Clan needs
Orange-Eyes."

Ratha recoiled and spat. "We have no need for a mange-
ridden scavenger who thinks too much of himself."

"Orange-eyes has sores because no food. Eating will
make better."

"I told you we don't want you. Now go."

The Firekeepers drew their brands aside to let the Un-
Named One slink away, but he turned instead to Ratha.
"Now this one wants only to die by clan fangs. Let ugly
herder with kinked tail come forward and kill Orange-
Eyes."

"Gladly," Shoman growled from the back. Thakur felt
Shoman push past him roughly, leaving his fur rumpled.

"Shoman, keep your place!" Ratha narrowed her eyes at
him, then at the Un-Named One. "So you think you are
clever and brave enough to join us." She raised her head.
"Fessran, the dance-hunt is unfinished. Let the Firekeepers
take their place."

Again the ritual started, the quarry now a single enemy.
At Ratha's order, not a claw touched Orange-Eyes, but the
torchbearers' steps took them close to him, and they thrust
their brands at him, flaunting the Red Tongue's power.
Each time a flaming torch came near the Un-Named One,
he jumped and shuddered, but he held his ground. The
Firekeepers' lunges came closer until fire licked silver fur.
Orange-Eyes fell on his side, no longer able to keep his
balance, but he refused to either flee or cower.

Fessran, sitting next to Thakur, never rook her eyes
from the stranger. Her tail curled and twitched with sup-
pressed excitement

"Enough!" Ratha cried-

15

The torchbearers fell back. The silvercoat crept co the
base of the sunning rock. Thakur heard the murmurs
around him and knew that the stranger's courage had
impressed even those who bore the greatest hatred for the
Un-Named.

The silver lifted his streaked and smeared muzzle to
Ratha and stared directly into her eyes. "Orange-Eyes is
worthy- Orange-Eyes stays."

She crouched on the edge of the rock, her Ups drawn
back to show the rips of her fangs. For a moment Thakur
thought she would pounce on the Un-Named One and
shred the rest of his face for his impudence. As green and
fire-colored eyes met, Thakur saw in Racha's gaze a
reluctant and surprised admission of respect. There was a
further moment of tension between them; then she
wrinkled her nose at the stranger and relaxed.

"All right, Orange-Eyes is worthy," she said. "He stays,
at least for now." She got to her feet, cutting off the
mutters and growls of astonishment and outrage. "The
gathering is ended. The Firekeepers may eat now. To your
dens, the rest of you. There are still beasts to herd and day
wil! come soon."

She waited until the group had begun to disperse before
calling, "Thakur, come to the sunning rock."

His tail curled in surprise. Ratha jumped down and
stood beside Orange-Eyes. The Un-Named One had re-
gained his feet, but only by leaning heavily against the
base of the rock.

"Clan teacher," Ratha began, "since you have the most
patience of any of us, I ask you to take charge of him for
the night. Give him some meat from the Firekeepers' kill
and show him the stream where he may wash the blood
away. If he is still alive tomorrow, bring him to my den."

16

CHAPTER

2




RATHA DRIFTED up out of deep slumber. She
became aware of the damp, chilly ground under
her chin. She squirmed further back into her den, into the
warmth still held by dry leaves and grass, leaving only her
nose poking out into the early morning wind. When the
breeze died, the sun bathed her muzzle and dried the dew
on her whiskers. She was slipping back into sleep again
when a cold shadow fell across her face.

She came awake instantly, jerking her head up and
pulling her paws beneath her. She squinted at the two
figures who stood against the sunrise. One she recognized
as Thakur, but the other she couldn't place. Who was this
skeleton with such a ragged pelt and strange long fangs?
Then she caught the stranger's pungent stink and winced.

"Last night," said Thakur's voice softly. Ratha didn't
need his words to remember.

"You're early," she grumbled, crawling from the den
and trying to smooth her rumpled fur with her tongue.
She was further disconcerted when neither of her visitors
said anything. They waited while she stretched and
groomed. She found herself taking longer than she usually
did, for the stranger's direct gaze irritated her.

"I see he survived the night despite the Firekeepers'
games," she said to Thakur, allowing her tail one irritable

17

wag. She saw his ears swivel back slightly and she imag-
ined what he must be thinking. The Firekeepers' game?
No, Ratha, the dance-hunt is yours and you gave the order
for it to continue.

At least he had the tact not to speak the thought aloud.
She shook her head, making her ears flap. Had she really
turned her victory celebration into a test of courage for
the Un-Named One? And had she promised him he could
stay with the clan as a reward for enduring the Red
Tongue's terror? She groaned softly to herself. / was half-
mad last night. I think we all were.

She sat up, curling her tail over her feet. "Bring him
here and let me look at him." She immediately regretted
her request when Thakur led his charge in front of her.
The full sunlight did nothing to disguise his appearance
and seemed to intensify his smell. New blisters overlay old
mange and along his ridged back and sunken flanks ulcers
showed from festering fly bites. Where parasites and fire
hadn't ravaged him, there were the bites and scratches
from the frenzied Firekeepers.

Rarha felt sick and ashamed. Driving him away or giv-
ing him an honorable death would have been better than
unleashing the corchbearers on him. He would have died
last night had I not seen the light in his eyes. Why didn't
you die, she thought at him sulkily. Then I wouldn't have
to bother with you.

She caught the scent of medicinal herbs and knew that
Thakur had applied a chewed-leaf poultice to the Un-
Named One's burns. They probably looked and smelled
better than they would have otherwise. Thank you for
showing him some kindess, Thakur. She looked at the
herding teacher and felt her gaze soften.

"Lie down if you wane," she said to the Un-Named One.

18

He dropped his hindquarters, but the rest of him remained
upright Ratha felt irritation creeping up on her again.
She pressed her tail under one hind foot to keep it from
wagging. Every look and move the stranger made Kerned
softly defiant. Inside that starvation-ravaged carcass, she
could see the build of a powerful young rna^ and she
found herself wondering what sort of opponent be would
be at his full strength.

"Do you still wish to join us?" she asked.

"Orange-Eyes came to join dan. Is all Orange-Eyes
wants, leader."

"Here in the clan we use names when we speak to each
other. You know Thakur. I am Ratha. You will abo be
given a clan name if you stay with us."

"Will take clan name and learn clan ways, Rama-
leader-" The silvercoat flinched ac his mistake and added,
"Is not 'Rama-leader' but 'Ratha,' yes?"

She relaxed. He was crying to please. Perhaps htt defi-
ance was all in her own mind.

"Yes." She took her foot off her tail

"I'U take him to the meadow with me and he can watch
while I teach the cubs," Thakur offered. He turned to the
Un-Named One. "Do you feel strong enough?"

"Legs sdll. . . /' the other said, groping for a word.
He raised a paw and flailed it, giving Ratha a rueful grin.

"Shaky," Thakur supplied.

"Legs soil shaky, but belly much better. Not learning
bad for Un-Named One, yes?"

"Yes, you do seem to be learning quickly," Ratha
agreed. "All right, Thakur. Take him with you. H you
want more leaves for his bums, I found a new patch by the
stream near the meadow trail."

19

"Good. I've nearly stripped my old one bare."
Something small and active jumped from the Un-
Named One's pelt and landed near Ratha's foot. She
hopped away as he scratched himself.

"I suggest, Thakur, that you make him roll in the flea-
bane before you do anything else, or we'll all be scratch-
ing."

During the next few days, curiosity nagged at Ratha
despite her trust in the herding teacher. It was too soon
to tell how Orange-Eyes would take to life among the
Named. Thakur did say that his strength was coming back
and he displayed a sharp interest in the teaching sessions,
but as the days went by, she itched to see for herself-

Meedngs with the Firekeepers and minor disputes over
whose den was dug too close to whose kept Ratha busy.
This morning she decided to creep away before anyone
else could find her.

The day was bright and hot. Sun and shade dappled
the trail through the broken forest to the meadow. Birds
flew from oak to scrub thom, dipping so low over the
trail they nearly brushed her back. When she reached the
meadow, she made her way through the dry grass, craning
her neck to peer above the waving stems and spot the
herd. There it was; a small flock of three-horns and dapple-
backs that the herding teacher had taken from the larger
herd in order to exerdse his students.

Thakur and the yearling cubs stood together on one
side of the flock. The youngsters gathered around him,
their ears cocked, their spotted rumps squashed together,
their short tails lifted. He was explaining something; she
could hear the rise and fall of his voice, but couldn't

20

understand what he was saying. The cubs seemed atten-
tive. No. Wait. Wasn't one missing? Where was Dram's
son Bundi?

Ratha scanned the meadow for a glimpse of spotted fur.
There he was, the foolish litterling! Making feints at a
three-horn fawn while he should have been listening to
his teacher.

And who was that lying in the shade of a scrub oak?
The Un-Named One, watching Bundi through slined eyes.
Ratha saw him tense and scramble to his feet.

His motion thrust her gaze back to the misbehaving
cub, but she could only see a cloud of dust where he had
been. She leaped up, straining to catch sight of the cub. A
three-horn doe marched out of die rolling haze, her nose-
horn lowered and ready.

Ratha's tail and whiskers went stiff as she sought for
a trace of the youngster, fearing she would see him down
in the grass with a smashed foreleg or jaw. His shrill
squeal drew her gaze to the cub, now flattened in the dirt.
He backed away from the deer, his nape bristling, his ears
flat.

She drew back her Ups and caught the sour taste of
fear-scent in the wind. Her hindquarters bunched and she
launched herself through fibrous grass, feeling it rake her
on legs and chest-
No, Bundi! she thought, remembering her own train-
ing. Never show the anwtals you are afraid...

The deer stalked after Bundi, her bead low, fawns
bleating at her sides. Even as Ratha begged her body for
more speed, she felt she was too far away to help.

Had he been one of the other students, he might have
escaped without her aid. She knew Bundi couldn't. He had

21

neither the speed nor agility to evade the three-horn.
Never again will I give Thakur a weakling cub to tram!

She saw the herding teacher stop talking to his students
and stare intently at the far edge of the herd, his ears
straining forward. Cubs scattered in all directions as he
plunged through their midst and dashed toward his
threatened student.

The three-horn gathered herself for the savage rush
that would leave Bundi writhing in the dirt . . . before
Thakur could reach him.

/ won't reach him either, Ratha thought with sudden
despair. She filled her lungs and roared, "Use your eyes,
Bundi! Stare her down! Use your eyes'"

The cub only cowered, too frightened to obey. The
grass rippled between the young herder and the deer. A
silver-gray head popped up, ears and whiskers back, orange
eyes intense. The deer halted and tossed her head, trying
to avoid the interloper's gaze. Then, with a whistling
snort, the three-horn charged.

Ratha saw only a gray blur as the Un-Named One
streaked toward the deer. He threw himself high in the
air before the three-horn, his paws spread and his tail
flared. The deer skidded and fell back on her haunches.
She reared, Striking out with cloven forefeet and bellow-
ing her anger. One foot grazed the Un-Named One as he
landed. He yowled and scurried a short distance away.

Ratha sprinted toward Bundi. In an instant his terrified
squall met her ears and his spotted pelt appeared before
her in the rolling dust. Without breaking stride, she
snacched him up by the scruff and galloped away with him
bouncing in her Jaws. He was too heavy to carry any
distance, so she dropped him when they were out of range

22

of the three-horn's charge. She looked back for the Un-
Named One.

No new wounds showed on his coat although his ribs
•were sdll painfully evident and his flanks drawn. The
three-horn swung around, now intent on him. He planted
his feet wide apart and stared at the deer, forcing her to
meet his gaze. She pawed the ground, trying to start a new
charge. Now the orange eyes had trapped her. No matter
how the herdbeast might throw her head about, she
couldn't escape that fiery gaze.

The Un-Named One rook one deliberate step toward the
deer. Ratha watched carefully. An animal who learned it
could defy the herders was too dangerous to keep. If the
three-hom doe charged again, she would be clan meat that
day. If the Un-Named One could stare her down and break
her will, she would live to nurse her fawns.

She saw Thakur come to a halt. He, too, was watching.
The deer lifted a hind leg and placed it nervously behind
the other. The Un-Named One took another step. The
three-horn's defiance broke and she backed away.

"Hnough," Thakur said, nudging the silvercoat aside.
He took over and soon had the deer in full retreat With
a disgusted bray, the three-horn wheeled and galloped
back into the herd. The fawns followed on spindly legs.

Ratha lee out her breath. She heard a smaller sound
beside her. Bundi flinched when she looked down on him,
and she imagined how he must be feeling. Not only had
his foolishness gotten him in danger; he had to be rescued
by the clan leader. No, not really, Ratha thought. / wasn't
the one who stopped the deer in mid-charge.

"Thakur will chew your ears for your foolishness," she
said roughly to the cub, "but at least you're alive."

The herding teacher had taken the Un-Named into a

23

patch of shade. Ratha trotted across to Thakur with Bundi
trailing behind. "Is the Un-Named One hurt?" she asked.
"No, Just tired." He turned to Bundi. "Cub, you know
what you did. Go over to the side of the meadow and
think about it. I'll speak to you later."

CHAPTER

3




AFITFULWIND blew against Thakur's whiskers.
He caught a scent he hadn't 'smelled all summer:

the scent of rain. It was only midday, but the sky above the
meadow had started to darken. Thakur lifted his muzzle
to the clouds and saw other herders raising their heads,

The herders circled the restless deer and dapplebacks.
Thakur joined them in driving the animals together. Dust
rose from beneath many trotting hooves and caught in his
throat. There was dust in his eyes, between his roes and
on his whiskers. His pelt felt dirty and gritty right down
to the roots of his hairs. He had given up trying to lick
all of it out, for the taste of it on his tongue made him gag
and the next day's work would only add more. Everyone in
the clan was beginning to look the same dusty color. Even
the Un-Named One's silver fur had turned mousy, giving
his fire-colored eyes a startling brightness.

The dapplebacks whinnied and bucked as the herders
drove them under the old oak, but Thakur knew that, if
the scorm brought thunder, they would be less likely to

24

bolt if they were sheltered. The three-horns spread out
under other scattered trees, whose few dried leaves offered
them little of either food or shelter.

Pale sunlight faded as clouds massed overhead- The
borders and their animals lost their shadows and the sky's
gray deepened. More torcbbearers appeared at the trail-
head, carrying the Red Tongue and wood to feed it. Thakur
saw the Un-Named One trailing behind them, carrying a
small bundle of twigs in his jaws. Although Ratha hadn't
yet assigned him a task, he bad chosen to help the Fire-
keepers.

The Un-Named One, who was still called Orange-Eyes
for lack of a clan name, delivered his mouthful of wood to
the nearest Firekeeper who needed it and joined Thakur
near the oak.

"They bring the Red Tongue today early," Orange-Eyes
said in answer to Thakur's glance. "Fessran said the herders
see bristlemanes and there may be attack before dark." He
still spoke awkwardly, but his mastery of clan speech had
improved in a surprisingly short rime.

They watched the Firekeepers build small piles of
kindling at equal intervals around the edge of the herd
and set them alight. The torchbearers tried to locate the
guard-fires beneath overhanging pine boughs or thom-
bushes that were high enough not to catch and would give
some shelter, but several had to be built out in the open.

Soon a wide ring of small flames, each guarded by a
Firekeeper, surrounded the deer and dapplebacks. The sharp
scent of woodsmoke mixed with the blowing dust and the
smell of the coming storm.

Something struck the ground at Thakur's feet, kicking
up a puff of dust. A drop hit his nose- Thunder grumbled
and the three-homs bleated. A gust of wind came, tearing

25

at the grass and whipping the guard-fires. Firekeepers
pawed at the ground around each flame, scraping away
the dried weeds and litter so the fire-creature couldn't es-
cape. They know how hungry the Red Tongue can be, he
thought.

Again he lifted his nose to the sky. It was a smoky
gray, with streaks and ripples that moved like the water
in a wide, slow river. Rain would be a welcome gift after
the parching heat that had lasted past the summer season,
but a downpour might kill some of the fire-creatures,
opening up a vulnerable place in the ring of defense
around the herd. Thakur felt more heavy drops on his
head and his ears. This would be no light shower.

The rain fell faster, beating on his pelt. He didn't usu-
ally enjoy getting wet but the rain was warm enough to
be pleasant and he was dirty enough to welcome a bath.
He stretched himself and fluffed his fur letting the rain
trickle through to his skin.

Thakur found himself watching the streaks made by the
rain on his companion's dusty flank. Orange-Eyes had
recovered rapidly from his bout with starvation. His
wounds had healed and his mange was receding, leaving a
few sparse areas that already bore the fuzz of new fur.

Thakur noticed other things about him as well. The
silvercoat's chest was deeper and his forelegs longer than
those of die clan, giving his back a slight slope downwards
to his tail. His forequarters looked more powerful than
those of the Named; his shoulders and neck more heavily
muscled. Even the shape of his head was subtly different.
He had an odd arch in his skull that began at the crown
of his head and flowed down through his broad nose to
meet and blend with the backward curve of his fangs.

It was clear to Tliakur that part of the stranger's par-

26

encage was neither that of the clan nor that of the Un-
Named, but a line unknown. Yet, at least one of bis
parents had given him the gift of self-knowledge that lit
his eyes. Would he be able to pass it on to his young?

The rain grew heavier, soaking their coats and turning
the dust to mud. Thakur saw several Firekeepers gathered
about one of the guard-fires in the open. Some ducked
beneath the sheltering pine bough and breathed on the
Red Tongue while others piled kindling.

"Have to go bring more wood," the silvercoat said and
loped away. He had barely gone when Thakur heard a
strange howL He turned his whiskers outward from the
herd in the direction of the sound. At first the cry was
faint and lost in the constant beat of the rain, but it con-
tinued rising, gaining strength until it filled the meadow.
The eerie, wavering howl broke into barks and yips that
seemed to taunt the herders and the Firekeepers as they
worked to protect their animals.

The howl faded, leaving only the hiss of the rain.
Thakur recreated beneath the boughs of the old oak, water
streaming from his tail and ears. The air under the tree
was dank and heavy with the noise and smell of wee
dapplebacks. In a while Orange-Eyes reappeared at the
trailhead into the meadow, delivered his mouthful of
sticks and joined Thakur. Many of the other herders also
sought shelter from the downpour, although some aided
the Firekeepers in trying to protect the guard-fires.

"Dung-eating bristlemanes!" growled the herder Cher-
fan, spraying his companions as he shook his heavy pelt.
"It's not the rain that makes me shiver; it's those howls."

"How many of them did you see?" asked Thakur.

"A pair, but I smelled more. There may be a whole
pack. How I hate the scink of those belly-biters!"

27

As if the enemy had beard Cherfan's words, the howls
started again. They were louder this time and wilder,
breaking into bursts of short, frantic cries that were un-
like any other sound made by animals the Named knew.
To Thakur, they had the sound of madness. He felt as
though he could no longer stand and listen. "I'm going to
help the Firekeepers," he told Orange-Eyes, and dashed
out from beneath the oak-
He narrowed his eyes against the sheeting rain and
headed for the farthest guard-fire, which had begun to
gutter and smoke beneath the canopy of branches held
over it by the Firekeepers. He saw Fessran there, fighting
to keep the name alight. She started and shivered as an-
other burst of wild howling broke across the meadow.

"No!" she snarled, slapping a branch from the mouth
of a Firekeeper. "That won't do. It's much too green and
too wet." She turned to another Firekeeper, a young female
with a red-brown coat. "Bira, get a pinewood torch from
the nearest fire-lair." She glanced over her shoulder at
Thakur. He heard Orange-Eyes canter up behind him as
Fessran said, "Herding teacher, you could help by bringing
more dry kindling. Take Orange-Eyes with you; he knows
where the woodpiles are."

Bira dashed off toward the den where the master fire
was kept, and Thakur turned to Orange-Eyes. Before be
could repeat Fessran's request, the silvercoat said, "I know
what she needs. Follow me, herding teacher."

As Orange-Eyes sprang away, Thakur saw Fessran lay
back her ears at another luckless Firekeeper. "Can't you
hold that branch so that it doesn't drip right on the Red
Tongue? No wonder (he creature is dying!"

Thakur peered through the rain, made out the form of
Orange-Eyes, ducked his head and galloped afcer him.

28

When they reached the woodpile, a heap of broken
branches thrown against the base of a large fir, Orange-
Eyes began to pull the top ones off.

"The sticks underneath are dry," he said quickly. Thakur
forced his muzzle in among the piled branches, ignoring
thorns that raked his face. He smelled the warm resinous
aroma of wood that had been drying all summer. He fast-
ened his jaws on a branch sticking out from the bottom of
the pile and pulled until he thought his fangs would break.

With a sudden snap, the branch came free and he
tumbled backwards into a puddle. He felt the clammy ooze
soak through his fur to his skin as he scrambled to his
feet, but he managed to keep the wood from getting
soaked.

To keep the rest of the wood covered, Orange-Eyes re-
placed the sticks he had taken from the top of the pile.
He wrapped his bundle of sticks in a large dock leaf before
taking it into his mouth, and showed Thakur how to do
the same. When the herding teacher was ready, they
galloped back through the rain toward the dying guard-
fire.

Thakur saw the blurred forms of Bira and another Fire-
keeper pacing alongside her with a pine bough held above
the torch she carried. But it was already too late. He heard
a despairing yowl above the rain and caught sight of
Fessran deserting her fire-creature's nest. For an instant
he was puzzled; then he knew that the guard-fire had died
and they were trying to save the next one.

He and Orange-Eyes changed direction and galloped to
Fessran with their loads of thomwood. Ratha was there,
helping the Firekeepers, but despite the new torch Bira
had brought the guard-fire began to smoke and faded

29

quickly to embers. They retreated to another blaze that
was still alive.

Thakur passed the wood he had brought to the jaws of
a Firekeeper and rubbed his muzzle against his foreleg to
ease the sting of a scratch on his jowls.

"Go tell Cherfan to drive the three-horns under the
oak with the other animals," Ratha said to him. The rain
ran down her face, streaking the soot on her muzzle. Be-
hind him he heard Fessran roar in alarm, "The dapple-
backs! They're attacking the dapplebacks!"

As Thakur backed out of the choking haze, he saw a
line of hunched forms lope from beneath the trees at the
meadow's far side. They galloped past the ashes of the
dead guard-fires and toward the herd of horses. He could
hear their shrill, excited yips.

Ratha bunched her hindquarters and sprang away, fol-
lowed by Fessran and several Firekeepers. Thakur wheeled
and sprinted after them. He felt mud spray his legs and
found Orange-Eyes running alongside of him. Ahead were
the bristlemanes, a full pack of them. He caught the
flicker of Ratha's fawn coat through the rain as she dashed
to cut them off.

Her attack split the pack of marauders. Half of them
ran past her, heading for the dappleback herd. She and
the Firekeepers gave chase and disappeared into the rain.
Fessran plunged after her, only to slide to a sudden stop.
There were shadows in front of her, shadows turned gray
by the rain. Thakur saw the Firekeeper lunge and slash
with her foreclaws. The bristlemanes recreated, but not
far. They started to close about her again with hungry
whines.

Together Thakur and Orange-Eyes charged them. The

50

animals loped away, their tongues hanging and their short,
ragged tails tucked between their legs. Instead of scatter-
ing, the bristlemanes circled back. Thakur spun to seek a
retreat only to find himself blocked in every direction. He,
Fessran and Orange-Eyes were completely surrounded.

He backed up against the two others, smelling their
fear and feeling them shake. The downpour grew heavier,
until he could barely see a tail-length ahead or hear the
faraway cries of the other herders. He felt the fur on
his neck rise in fright. The three of them would get no
help from the other herders, who must be busy chasing
the other raiders from the herd.

The bristlemanes closed in. Now he could see the black
and yellow mottling on their pelts and the stiff, coarse
manes along their necks. Their eyes shone cold and eager.
The flesh of the Named could fill those bellies as well as
herdbeast meat, Thakur knew. Their nostrils widened and
their large ears trembled, swiveling forward,

The bristlemanes approached cautiously, their black
muzzles lowered, their heavy jaws slavering. Their smell
reached him, making him think of flies crawling over
white bones. The Un-Named One's growl sounded on one
side of him, Fessran's snarl on the other. Her snarl turned
to a screech as a brisrlemane dived for her flank. Thakur
saw her twist away and fasten her teeth in the thick mane,
but the fur was so stiff and heavy that, however she worked
her Jaws, she couldn't bite deeply enough- Blood began to
run, but the creature stayed on its feet, dragging Fessran
with it.

Thakur had to guard himself as another brisdemane
rushed him and snapped at his belly. He sprang onto the
creature's back, sinking his teeth into its neck. The bristle-
mane strained its head back, shoving against his jaws

31

until they ached. Teeth damped on his tail and a savage
jerk nearly dragged him off.

He fell to the side, his forelegs wrapped around the
creature's neck as he sought frantically for a throat hold.
The pull on his tail dragged his hindquarters loose and he
heard the shrill cries of the other bristlemanes as they
danced around him. He lost his grip and fell heavily on
his side. Paws stepped on his flank and noses snuffled at
him.

For a moment he could see only legs and bellies. The
nearest set of legs shuddered and then staggered. The
brisdemane went down with Orange-Eyes on top of it.

Thakur was near enough to see every derail. The silver-
coat flung his head back and his lower jaw dropped close
to the underside of his throat freeing the full length of
his fangs. His head drove down, the teeth descending with
the full weight of the Un-Named One's forequarters be-
hind them.

There was a tearing and grinding as teeth sheared
through fur and hide to meet bone. The brisdemane
screamed once.

Orange-Eyes lifted his muzzle from the ruin of the
animal's nape. Thakur stared at him, caught in a sudden
cold fright stronger than his fear of the bristlemanes. He
knew that the stabbing bite he'd seen was like nothing the
Named had ever used.

He pulled himself from his daze as he regained his feet,
becoming aware that the other bristlemanes had retreated,
whimpering uneasily. A short distance away, Fessran wor-
ried the limp body of another. She gave it one last shake
and left it. Thakur did not have to approach to see the
mark of Orange-Eyes's bite.

Fessran rubbed against Thakur, still shivering with rage.

32

She spat and showed her fangs at the marauders. She
turned to Orange-Eyes, who was wiping his muzzle on the
soaked pelt of his kill, and said, "Thanks, youngster. Those
teeth of yours are good in a fight."

The Uo-Named One looked at Fessran. His eyes were
oddly wary. She didn't seem to notice.

She knows he killed the bristlemanes, Thakur thought
to himself. She didn't see how he killed them.

"Are you injured, herding teacher?"

It cook Thakur an instant to respond to Orange-Eyes's
question. "They chewed my tail, but nothing else."

Hoarse brays and shrill barks came through the sound
of the rain. "There are more of those belly-biters after the
dapple-backs," Fessran growled. "Come on!"

Together, the three of them bounded toward the noise,

The rain lightened, and Thakur could see further ahead.
The rest of the bristlemanes had cut into the dappleback
herd, trying to separate out an old mare and her late-
birthed colt. Her coat was grizzled and her feet worn.
Thakur knew the herders had marked the pair for culling,
for the colt was sickly. So had the bristlemanes.

They ringed the mare and her offspring, forcing them
away from the flock. She fought fiercely to regain it, lash-
ing out with her hind feet. One marauder staggered away
with its Jaw broken and flopping loose. The others dodged
her kicks and began to drive the colt down the meadow,
nipping at its hocks. They broke into a fast lope, forcing
the young dappleback to canter.

From the opposite direction came Ratha and the Fire-
keepers with newly lit torches in their Jaws, but they were
too far away and the pack was gathering speed.

Thakur lengthened his stride undl he was alongside the
bristlemanes. He saw Orange-Eyes and Fessran pacing him

33

on the other side, across the backs of the bristlemanes.
Encircled by the pack, the dappleback mare and her colt
veered from side to side, trying to break through the ring
of their captors. The mare's sides heaved and her breath
came in heavy grunts. Lather flew from her neck and her
eyes rolled.

Thakur felt the breath burn in his chest as he panted.
He knew he could outrun the bristlemanes over short
distances, but they could travel far keeping this pace. They
had already settled into a ground-eating lope that would
soon weary the pursuing Firekeepers. If the pack got
away with these dapplebacks, they would run the pair
until they were exhausted, then harass and nip at the
horses until they pulled them down.

He clamped his teeth together and put all his remaining
strength into one last sprint. He glanced back to see an
ugly muzzle open its Jaws behind his tail. He raced ahead,
lengthening his lead, knowing he would need every bit of
the distance-
He bounced to a stop, kicked himself into the air, spun
around and hurled himself broadside into the chest of the
pack leader. The impact drove the breath from his lungs.
With a choked howl, the bristlemane tumbled, and Thakur
felt the animal shudder repeatedly as more of the pack
piled into it. He clawed his way up through a confused
mass of thrashing bodies and snapping muzzles. He heard
shrill cries as the rest of the animals scattered in confusion.

With a triumphant whinny, the old mare sailed over
his head and galloped away from the writhing heap of
bristlemanes. The colt followed. From the corner of his
eye Thakur saw the Un-Named One yank a bristlemane
away by its tail and seize another. He didn't bother to kill
them but just thrust them aside as he and Fessran opened

34

a path for Thakur. The herding teacher dragged his fore-
paw loose and thrust it at Fessran. He yelped in pain as
she fastened her jaws on his leg and hauled him out of
the fray.

Thakur caught the gleam of fire on wet pelts and knew
the Firekeepers had encircled the brisdemane pack. Now
that the ram was stopping, the torches remained lit. The
bristlemanes huddled together in the center, their ears
flattened, their howls turning to whines. Several Fire-
keepers brought unlit sticks that had been chewed to a
point and sharpened in the flame.

The bnsdemanes climbed over and around each other
to escape the vengeful creature that surrounded them. A
Pirekeeper thrust a brand at a trapped animal and it re-
treated until it backed into the others and could go no
further. Its cries became faster and shriller until they
became a terrified wail. It crouched and shuddered, trying
to bury its face in its flank.

Something made Thakur glance at Orange-Eyes, who
Stood just outside the circle of torchbearers. The silvercoat's
eyes narrowed and his lips drew back in a half-snarl. It
was not the same expression as the Firekeepers wore.
Their eyes blazed with vengeance-hunger and a sudden,
eager cruelty. Orange-Eyes was looking, not at the fright-
ened bristlemanes, but at those of the clan who brandished
fire at them.

Thakur remembered that the Un-Named One had also
faced the Red Tongue's wrath. He came alongside the
silvercoat and softly said, "The mare and colt are still
loose. We should help the borders find them."

Orange-Eyes's gaze remained fixed on the scene. A
change came over his eyes. Their color grew more intense,
and it was not just the firelight on his face.

35

"The Red Tongue is powerful creature," he said softly
to himself.

"The mare," said Thakur, nudging the Un-Named One's
shoulder.

"Yes, herding teacher." Orange-Eyes blinked, lowered
his head and followed.

They found the mare's scent trail, still strong in the
wet grass. Thakur looked back once to see the flames rise
and fall. Firekeepers lunged with pointed sticks in their
jaws. Yapping and snarling, the frenzied animals charged
the ring of torchbearers. One Firekeeper lost his brand and
fell back. The cornered bristlemanes attacked again. Yowls
mingled with shrill yelps as they broke through the circle,
throwing their tormentors aside.

Before either Thakur or Orange-Eyes could whirl
around, the pack had fled away into the night. Recovering
themselves, the torchbearers gave chase, the flames tossing
on their brands. Orange-Eyes leaped to Join them, but they
had gone and their cries had already begun to fade.

Thakur let his muscles relax, "Come back," he called
to the silvercoat. "Let the Firekeepers chase them."

Orange-Eyes hesitated, looking after the disappearing
glow of the torches. He muttered something to himself
that the herding teacher couldn't hear.

"Are you going to help me track those dapplebacks or
not?" Thakur felt his patience going. Orange-Eyes starred
and swung around, the Strange expression still in his eyes.
It was half resentment and half something else... Thakur
didn't know what. A hunger, perhaps. A hunger that
would not be sated by meat.

36

CHAPTER

4




RATHA HALTED the pursuit at the far end of
the meadow. She slowed, panting, the cries of the
escaping bristlemanes sdU in her ears. Behind her, the
torchbearers' growls mingled with the angry snap of
the Red Tongue. She shared their fever; the urge to bunt
the enemy down with fang and fire.

Terror had given the bristlemanes the speed to outrun
the Pirekeepers. Their pack-mates lay dead in the meadow
and Ratha knew that those who lived bore scars on their
memories as well as their hides that would forbid them
from again setting foot on clan ground.

She heard a muffled snarl and the sound of a body being
dragged and shaken. She turned to see one of the Fire-
keepers mauling another dead brisdemane. The long
tongue hung out of the stiff black jaws and flopped around
with each angry Jerk he gave the body.

Ratha watched, letting the sight feed her hunger for
vengeance. "Enough!" she cried suddenly. The Krekeeper
released die corpse and backed away. She waited, studying
the eyes that shone back at her with reflected torchlight,
their glow softened only by a fine mist of rain. "Enough,"
she said again in a low voice. "The herd is safe and the
enemy gone. Firekeepers, return with me and rekindle the
dead fires."

37

The torchbearers did as she bid them and soon new
flames were burning in the ashes of the old. But they too
were small and uncertain. Ratha knew that if the rain fell
harder it would quench them as easily as it had the others.

"Give the creature more wood," she told the fire-tenders
as she paced from one outlying guard-flame to the next.
"Make it strong and fierce."

She stopped, watching cwo Firekeepers struggling to
comply. One brought more wood while the Other fed the
flame. He crouched a safe distance away from the fire's
nest, tossing in twigs with a quick turn of his head. The
fire flared briefly as it consumed each twig and then died
down.

"No," Ratha said impatiently- "Use larger pieces and
place them; don't throw them."

With an uneasy glance at her, the Firekeeper seized a
thick branch in his jaws, approached the flame as close as
he dared and flipped the wood in. It crashed into die fire,
destroying the nest of carefully laid kindling and sending
up a shower of sparks,

Rarha shouldered the Firekeeper aside and dragged the
branch out. Carefully she coaxed the flattened remains of
her creature back to life and, once it was burning steadily
on fresh kindling, she gave it thicker wood.

Each time she placed a branch in its nest, the fire-
creature's breath blasted her face and stung her eyes with
heat and cinders. It roared its rage in her ears, licked at
her jowls and threatened to consume her whiskers. She
had to force herself to lay the wood in position, however
much her Jowls hurt or her instincts screamed at her to
leap away.

When she finished, she backed away thankfully and
rubbed her sooty muzzle against her foreleg. The two

38

torchbearers were watching her with mingled awe and
resentment. "That is how it must be done," she said. "If
you are quick and sure, you will keep your whiskers."

The Firekeeper who had nearly destroyed the Red
Tongue's nest stalked over to the leaping flame with more
wood in his jaws. He faced the fire-creature, hesitated and
lunged forward. He dropped the branch in and scrambled
back, his belly white with wet ash, his eyes frightened and
defiant.

"Feeding your creature is not easy when it grows so
large and wild," he said with a shudder.

"If you seek to tame the Red Tongue by keeping it
small, it will die in the rain," Ratha said, trying to be
patient.

"When it is fierce, it eats my whiskers," retorted the
Firekeeper. "Look how short they are. I can no longer
find my way in the dark."

"If you are thinking only of your whiskers and not of
your duty, you will bum yourself. Try doing it the way I
have showed you."

"I will, clan leader," he said, but Ratha could see in
his eyes and his barely controlled trembling that his wish
to obey had to fight his terror of the fire. This fear was
not an easy thing to put aside as Ratha knew well.

"The more you practice, the better you will become and
then you need not be afraid," she said, trying to smooth the
harshness from her voice. The Firekeeper looked back at
her as if he knew her words were half a lie, but he said
only, "Yes, clan leader."

Ratha jogged away from his guard-fire and went past
others, stopping to see how other torchbearers were faring.
What she saw was nothing new, but it still filled her with

59

dismay. Despite their training and experience, many of the
fire-tenders were timid, approaching their fire with tightly
shut eyes and flattened ears. They poked wood into the
flame with tentative thrusts and snatched their paws back.
The torchbearers' smells told Ratha, in a way that their
appearance could not, how little they trusted the capricious
creature they had to guard.

The moon shone through a bre"-k in the clouds, glim-
mering on the wet grass in front of Ratha. Ahead, under
the oak, the Red Tongue danced and crackled, offering its
warmth to several of the Named who had gathered around
it. She crept in under the tree, shook herself and found a
place near the fire. The lop-eared herder Shoman was
there, along with Cherfan and some Other weary clan
members. Fessran basked on the far side of the fire. Ratha
looked for Thakur and Orange-Eyes, but found neither-
She settled herself and listened to the conversation be-
tween Fessran and Shoman.

"Killing those bristlemanes may save us from having to
cull a dappleback," Shoman was saying.

Fessran drew back her whiskers. "You may be able to
eat bristlemane meat. If so, you may have it."

"You're too fussy. Meat is meat," Cherfan said and
yawned, showing the ribbed roof of his mouth and the
back of his tongue.

"To you, perhaps." Fessran lolled her tongue at him.
"You can eat anything, you big shambleclaw."

Racha stretched out her pads to the fire's warmth and
let the banter flow over her. This wasn't the first time
Fessran had teased Cherfan about his indiscriminate appe-
tite, He seemed to take her teasing with patient humor,
as he did everything else.

40

"Have you seen Thakur and Orange-Eyes?" Ratha asked.

"They're on their way," Cherfan answered. "Thakur
said he'd find the mare so I could go and get warm."

"He may be awhile. That old mare has more spirit than
I thought. Maybe you shouldn't cull her, Cherfao," Fess-
ran remarked and began washing a muddy paw.

"Ptahh! You only want younger meat, Firekeeper,"
Cherfan teased in return. "She'd be as tough as a brisile-
mane and you know it."

Shoman looked sourly at Fessran. "You think you de-
serve better meat than bristlemane, don't you, torch-
bearer. Well, I don't. You and the other singed-whiskers
let too many of the guard-fires die. That's why the brisde-
manes got through."

"Bury it, Shoman," Cherfan growled as the Firekeeper
stiffened and glared. "You're about as helpful as a tick in
the skin. Don't pay any attention to him, Fessran. His
tail's been in a kink ever since Orange-Eyes came."

Ratha twitched her ears at the mention of the Un-
Named One. She lifted her muzzle from her forepaws and
said, "You seem to think well of him now, herder."

"I'll admit I had my doubts about him, but he's a hard
worker and not easily frightened. He chewed up several
of those belly-biters. I wish I'd seen that!" Cherfan looked
at Ratha directly. "I think you made a good decision when
you dedded not to kill him at the dance-hunt, clan leader."

"I don't—" Shoman began, but he was interrupted by a
swat from Cherfan that knocked him over. "Oh, go fill
your belly, flop-ears. Maybe your temper will improve."

Shoman retreated, his fur and his dignity visibly ruffled.
Ratha heard him pad away and felt herself relaxing. Fess-
ran, however, was sitting up, looking solemn. Presently
Cherfan got up and stretched. "One last took at the herd"

41

beasts and I'm off to my den. Too wet a night to sleep out.
Remind flop-ears that he has the next watch."

Some of the herders left with him; others went back out
to the meadow. One by one the Firekeepers also left until
Ratha and Fessran were alone by the fire.

"Firekeeper, if Shoman's words are troubling you, don't
worry," Ratha said. "I never listen to him."

"Maybe you should." Fessran's voice was flat.  •

Ratha looked at her sharply. '"What else could you have
taught the fire-tenders? The Red Tongue is not an easy
creature to care for. I don't want to punish any Firekeeper
for failing."

"Punishment would be useless," said Fessran, "I scold
them if they forget their training, but punishment is no
cure for fear."

"I can see how difficult it is for them. The Red Tongue
is often a vengeful creature."

"There is a difference between being careful and being
timid. Your creature demands much from us who tend it."
Fessran gazed at the flame. "Sometimes I think it has
senses, like ours, and it knows when someone is afraid of
it. That is when it Jumps out and burns our whiskers."

In the nickering Ught, Ratha could see the white scars
on Fessran's muzzle. There were more on the Firekeeper's
front pads. She bore a few scars herself and she knew that
the Red Tongue's lessons were taught harshly.

"Clan leader," Fessran said and Ratha lifted her gaze
from the Firekeeper's scarred forepaws to her face. "I
know you have given me as many as can be spared from
the duties of herding to train as torchbearers. But the fires
died in the rain tonight and they will continue to die if
they are kept by those who treat them timidly. I can teach
knowledge, but courage is something a cub is born with."

42

"So you want more of the stronger cubs to train as

Firekeepecs."

"Yes, and not just cubs. There are those who are grown
who have die strength of will the Red Tongue demands,"
said Fessran softly.

The tone of her voice made Ratha's eyes narrow
slightly, although she wasn't sure why.

"Who among the Named would you choose?" she asked.

"Besides you and me, there are few. Thakur is one, but
he has chosen not to serve the Red Tongue and I under-
stand his reasons." Fessran paused, and Ratha felt herself
being studied. "I would choose the young orange-eyed one
whose strength and bravery have shown me that he is well
fit for the task. He proved himself a worthy opponent
when he stood his ground in the dance-hunt. He has
proved it again tonight by the bodies of two bristlemanes
that lie in the meadow."

Ratha paused. "He is not of the Named, Fessran."

The Firekeeper's amber eyes widened. "I thought you
were going to accept him."

"Not before I call a clan gathering. I want to hear
from others before I decide."

"Everyone knows who killed those bristlemanes," said
Fessran. "If you called us all together tomorrow, you'd
have any agreement you need."

And I haven't forgotten that it was he who stopped a
charging three-hom to save a clan cub's life^ Ratha
thought, but she didn't want to say anything that would
encourage Fessran to press her further.

The Firekeeper eyed her. "You knew that he has already
begun to carry wood for us."

"I don't mind that; it keeps him busy. But I don't want
you to teach him anything more until I have made my

43

decision. And tomorrow is too early to call another gather-
ing," she added pointedly.

"The mating season will be here soon," said Fessran.
"If you wait too long, I won't be good for doing anything
except waving my tail at him. And you won't be in much
better shape."

Ratha had to grin at Fessran's succinct appraisal of her
own behavior during the period of heat. Her tension eased
a little as she retorted, "He's probably too young for court-
ing, you randy queen! All the same, you're right. I will
make my decision soon."

Fessran curled a paw up to her muzzle and began wash-
ing it. She haired, swiveled her ears forward and got up to
feed more wood to the fire. Ratha turned her face outward
into the cool of the night to catch the scenes of whoever
was approaching.

Thakur and Orange-Eyes padded under the oak and set-
tled themselves wearily in the Red Tongue's glow. 'That
mare must have led you a chase," said Fessran as Thakur
licked his paw and scrubbed at the mud on his face. "Cher-
fan could have gone after her. You both have done your
work for tonight."

"And you have too, Fessran," Thakur said, with a brief
glance at Orange-Eyes. Ratha detected a faint trace of
anxiety in his smell and wondered if it were only the mare
that had delayed him. "You dug me out of that pile of
bristlemanes."

"And Orange-Eyes'" Fessran burst out. "Ratha, you
. should have seen what he did to those belly-hirers. They
thought they had me, and I thought so too, but when he
charged in and sank his teeth into that one ..."

Orange-Eyes shifted, looking uncomfortable. "Fire-
keeper, Thakur was with me "

44

"Both of you have earned my praise and more," Ratha
answered. "When we cull a herdbeast tomorrow, you.
Thakur, will eat after me and then Orange-Eyes will fill
his belly. Fessran, you will follow."

Thakur gave Fessran a questioning look.

"You've earned it, herding teacher," she said. "And so
has he." She got up and stretched. "I suppose I have too."

"Fessran, get some sleep. And Orange-Eyes," Ratha
said. "Thakur, please stay."

After the Firekeeper and the silvercoat had gone,
Thakur leaned toward Ratha and asked softly, "Will you
tell me what troubles you?"

Ratha turned her head and stared at Thakur, wrinkling
the fur on her brow.

"Fessran was asking you to accept Orange-Eyes and
make him a Firekeeper, wasn't she?"

In spite of herself, her jaw dropped. "How did you
know? Your ears must be keener than I thought. Or I
spoke louder than I meant to."

"No, I didn't hear you. I've been around Fessran long
enough to know that when she wants something, she
chases after it."

"I told her that I haven't decided. If he does stay with
us, I don't know whether he should be trained as a Fire-
keeper. It's true, Fessran does need some more torch-
bearers."

"And you are willing to give her what she wants?" said
Thakur with surprise and more than a trace of annoyance.
"I thought that if he stayed, he would be trained as a
herder."

Ratha fought the feeling of guilt that crept over her
at the sound of disappointment in his voice. She felt
drained by the bristlemane attack and knew she had not

45

chosen her words as carefully as she should have. She
hoped Thakur could sense her weariness and not press her
further, but this time, his usual selfiessness had been
pushed aside by anger. He waited, a subdued glitter in his
eyes.

Ratha looked at her toes, the ground, the fire; anything
but the questioning green eyes. "Thakur, what else can I
do?" she burst out at last. "Fessran says she must have
torchbearers who have the strength of will to master the
fire they guard. If the fires die, then we of the clan have
no hope against the Un-Named or the bristlemanes."

"Has Fessran persuaded you that Orange-Eyes alone
would make such a difference?"

"He would teach; he would inspire Others to try harder.
If any torchbearer would make a difference, I agree with
Fessran that he would be the one."

"I have no doubt that he would," said Thakur. "I also
have no doubt that Fessran is thinking not only of him but
of the cubs he might sire. Perhaps he might father a whole
family of cubs strong and brave enough EO guard the Red
Tongue, if they have wit enough to remember which end
of a torch to take in their jaws!"

Ratha couldn't help ducking her head and drawing
back her whiskers. She felt lost and uncertain. Where was
the patient teacher and friend she thought she knew?

"Thakur, why are you so upset about this?"

Thakur took a long breath. "Before tonight, I would
have said it was only because I feared his young would be
witless. That is worry enough, but now I have seen some-
thing else. I find this hard to explain, but I have seen him
looking at the fire and I don't like what I see. Ratha, he
is not one of the Named, even though he has enough light
in his eyes for a whole litter of cubs."

46

"I thought you liked him." Ratha was puzzled.
"I can like him and still fear him."

"Fear him! A half-grown cub!"

"One who can rip the nape out of a full-sized bristle-
mane?" Thakur said, spacing his words. "No, Orange-
Eyes is not a cub. I have seen him looking at the fire, and
I sense that in some way he may understand it better than
we do."

"Well, then, if he does, maybe he can help us find other
ways to manage it." She lifted her chin, trying to recapture
her confidence.

"No, Ratha. It's not that kind of understanding. He
knows what the Red Tongue has done and can do to us. I
have a feeling in my belly that his son of knowledge may
be dangerous."

Ratha felt hot and cold. She wondered whether it was
just the fire's breath on one side of her and the night's
chill on the other or whether Thakur's words angered and
frightened her.

"How? Are you afraid he would seize my creature and
use it against me?"

"No. I'm not saying he would do that, or even want to.
I am only saying that my belly tells me there is risk in
making him a Firekeeper. What the risk is, I don't know."

"That's all you can tell me?" Ratha stared at him in
dismay.

"Yes."

"And what if I choose to take the dangerous trail?"

He looked at her for a long time. "Then nothing I can
do or say can help you bear the load you may carry along
that trail. I do not envy you the journey."

"You can't even offer a little comfort?" she said as he
turned away.

-47

"No. I don't seem to be able to do the things I used
to," he said bitterly. "The coming of me Red Tongue has
changed all of us, even me."

She was silent until he had gone a few paces away from
the fire. Swallowing hard, she said, "You still may eat
after me at the kill tomorrow."

"If you wish me to," he answered and was gone.

It wasn't: just the night's cold that made Racha creep
closer to the fire.

CHAPTER

3




AT THE CLAN GATHERING, Ratha looked

down from her place atop die sunning rock to the
Named settling themselves below. Again they had fed
and again they had come together, but this time there
would be talk rather than celebration.

She smelled the rich odor of three-horn flesh. It lingered
on the twilight breeze even though the herdbeast was now
bones and rags of hide. She had eaten half the liver and
left the rest to the others. Usually she gorged herself, but
too much meat made her sleepy and muddled her thoughts.
She went away from the carcass with her belly half-filled;

she knew she needed to think clearly tonight.

She watched Fessran lead in the torchbearers. They
.;. looked black against the setting sun. The flame that leaped
••I. and danced on their brands seemed born of the sky's red

48

and orange light. The Firekeepers who bore no torches
carried wood in their mouths. Under Fessran's direction,
they arranged the kindling to the side of the sunning rock
and lit the meeting fire.

The firelight grew as the sun's glow faded. Wavering
shadows stretched out behind the clanfolk. The eyes that
turned up to Ratha held their own fires of green and
amber. One color was missing among them; the hue closest
to that of die name itself.

The Firekeepers lay together near the blaze. Fessran
remained on her feet, searching the gathering. Ratha saw
the Firekeeper leader sic down again with a puzzled ex-
pression in her eyes. From Fessran, Ratha looked across to
Thakur, who was sitting on the opposite side with the
herders. The closed, remote look on his face told her why
the Un-Named One wasn't there.

The group quieted, leaving the evening to the snap and
hiss of the Red Tongue. Ratha stood up, waving her tail
to indicate the meeting was to begin. She sat and curled
her tail about her feet.

"We of the Named,'* she said, "have seen many changes.
Once we were ruled by the Law of the Named and the
power of teeth and claws. Now we follow a new law and
a new way." She turned her head toward the meeting fire
and the Firekeepers beside it. "Change begets change as do
cubs that grow up and have their own young. Now an-
other change has come upon us, and again we must
choose whether to accept it or turn it back.

"We have always grown from within," she continued.
"In Baire's day and Meoran's too, that was the law. There
was no ming^ng wich the clanless ones. But we were
different then. We are fewer now. The number of cubs
born each season is less. We never dared to seek outside

49

the clan for others, but now one of them has come seeking
us. He is Un-Named, but he has the same light in his eyes
thac we do. The question I must decide is this: shall the
Un-Named One be taken among us?"

Fessran raised her soot-stained muzzle. "Tamer of the
Red Tongue, I would speak in support of the Un-Named
One. I would like him to hear my words. Why is he not
here?"

Ratha's gaze darted to Thakur. He seemed to wilt a bit
as other stares followed hers. He sighed and sat up. "He
is not here, Fessran, because I told him to stay with the
yearlings. I thought it best that we make our decision
without him." Thakur paused. "Remember what happened
during the dance-hunt."

Fessran walked to the base of the sunning rock and
looked up at Ratha. "Giver of the New Law, I do recall
what happened then and that is why I speak in praise of
him. Never have I seen such courage, even among my own
torch bearers."

"Firekeeper leader," said Thakur, "you forget that he
is neither Named nor of the clan. Our own yearlings may
not come to this meeting until they have proven them-
selves worthy."

But the Un-Named One has proven himself, Ratha
thought suddenly. When he turned back the herdbeast so
I could save Bundi, he showed his worth.

"He can't be treated as a yearling, Thakur," said Fess-
ran. "He isn't one, Ratha said his coming is something
new to the clan. It can't be dealt with in old ways." The
Firekeeper leader turned again to the sunning rock. "Clan
leader, I and the Firekeepers ask that he be allowed into
this gathering so he may hear our words."

A surprised murmur rippled through the group and

50

Ratha caught an undercurrent of growls from the herders.
Shoman leaped to his feet, his tail lashing.

"I have no praise for die Un-Named One," the lop-
eared herder sneered, glaring at Thakur. "But I pin with
the Firekeepers and ask that he be brought before us."

Thakur's jaw dropped. His eyes narrowed at Shoman.
He looked to Ratha. "Is it the will of the Named?" he
asked, his voice sounding harsh.

"Yes, Thakur," she said and saw his eyes frost. "The
meeting will wait while you fetch him."

Clanfolk parted to let the herding teacher through-
When he was gone, Ratha studied the two others who
had spoken: Shoman, with his lip curled and his whiskers
drawn back in a malicious grin, and Fessran, with her eyes
eager, but not entirely innocent.

Ratha suddenly wished she could be down among them,
waiting for someone else on the sunning rock to make die
decisions and find the answers.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Thakur
returning with Orange-Eyes. The Un-Named One looked
guarded and wary as he followed Thakur to a place among
the herders. He sought to catch Thakur's gaze, but the
herding teacher, who had led him in without looking at
him, turned his face away. The silvercoat lowered his
head and whisked his tail away from Thakur's.

On the other side of the meeting circle, the Firekeepers
stirred. Fessran rose again. "Now that the Un-Named One
is among us, as he deserves to be, I may speak. I am not
one to praise the clanless ones. I have seen too many of
us fall to them. But, as Ratha has said, some of them hold
the same light in their eyes as we do and want more than
the lives of raiders and scavengers."

A hard voice broke from the growls of the herders.

51

"Ptahh! What he wants is to fill his belly with the flesh
ofourherdbeasts!"

Heads turned to Shoman. Fessran tried to answer, but
her words were drowned in die sudden uproar. Ratha
slapped the sunning rock with her paw to quiet the gather-
ing. "Let Fessran speak." She directed a meaningful glance
at Shoman.

Fessran also eyed Shoman and said, "If that's all you
think he wants, why did you ask that he be brought to the
meeting?"

"So that all of you may see him for what he is."
Shoman's gaze darted over the group. "You, Cherfan," he
said to a herder in the back, "you, who lost a lair-son to
the Un-Named. You, Mondir, who buried the body of your
littermare after a raid. All of you who bear scars on your
coats. Look at him. Those eyes. Are they like ours? Those
teeth. They could easily slash our throats." He turned back
to Fessran. "You don't think of that, Firekeeper."

Fessran only yawned. "You bear no scars on your pelt,"
she said dryly. Some of the Firekeepers lolled their tongues
in derisive grins.

Shoman's eyes blazed. "Wounds may be deep but un-
seen. I know my lair-father died at the Jaws of the Un-
Named. That is enough."

Several of the herders who were Shoman's friends flat-
tened their ears at the Un-Named One. The silvercoat
ignored them, drawing himself in and sitting stiffly.

"No, it is not enough," Fessran snapped. "What you
want, Shoman, is revenge, not what is best for the rest of
us. As for teeth, we all have them and we could all bite
each other's throats if we were savage enough." She
stamped impatiently. "You of the clan, don't you know
what you saw that night of the dance-hunt? You saw some-

52

one with the strength of will to fight his fear of the Red
Tongue, someone who stood his ground against my Fire-
keepers even when he was sick and starving."

Fessran began to circle, twitching her tail, "Yes, he
wants to fill his belly. All of us do. And he will earn that
right by using his courage to defend our herds."

She reared up on her hind legs, her belly fur showing
golden-white in the flame's glow.

"Cherfan!" she called to him. "You lost a litteriing in
the Un-Named raids. What was his name?"

Cherfan reacted slowly, blinking in surprise. "He was
called Shongshar."

"Good. What the Un-Named have taken, they will give
back. Had Cherfan's cub lived, he would have been a brave
herder and sired strong young. I have seen that this one"—
she wagged her whiskers coward the silvercoat—"shows
much courage in guarding the animals. As for young, we
will have to wait a Utde while, but not too long, I think."
Fessran cast a sly glance at the young females among the
Firekeepers.

Trust Feisran to provide a little humor, Ratha thought,
but the Firekeeper's words made her uneasy and the
shadow of an old memory fell across her mind. She looked
for Thakur and found him sitting stiffly. She had never
seen him look so solemn.

"Shongshar is a good name." Fessran was saying. "It
shouldn't be lost. Let the newcomer join and give him that
name. Let the clan have a new Shongshar!"

Again there was an uproar. Ratha noticed that the
silvercoat was saying the name to himself; trying it to see
how it fit. Fessran, obviously enjoying the attention she
was getting, swaggered over to Thakur. For an instant he

53

didn't seem to know she was there, then he jerked his
head around and faced her.

The Firekeeper's intent wasn't malicious as Shoman's
had been. She did have a tendency to poke fun at those
who took themselves too seriously. Ratha herself had re-
ceived a few sharp digs from the claws of Fessran's wh-

"Herder, you spoke against the Un-Named One at the
start of this meeting," Fessran said, still looking amused.
"Why are you quiet now?" The sudden misery on his face
made the Firekeeper lose her grin. Her brows drew together
and she said something to Thakur in a softer tone that
Ratha couldn't hear.

She caught Thakur's reply as he got to his feet.

"No, Fessran. The clan needs to hear this." He sur-
veyed the group, looking into the eyes of all who were
assembled . . . except those of the newcomer. "I wish to
cast no doubt on the truth of Fessran's words. I only re-
mind you that there are many trails to one place and each
one shows us different sights. Fessran has taken you along
one trail; I must show another." Thakur paused. "First I
must tell you that the one who sits beside me is worthy to
bear the dead cub's name- He saved a yearling from death
on a herdbeast's horns. Ratha can tell you that story better
than I."

"If you mean to support him," Fessran interrupted, her
eyes wide, "why did you want to leave him out of the
meeting?"

"I have other words besides those of praise," Thakur
snapped back. "Firekeeper leader, like everyone else here,
I try to make things easy for myself. What I have to say
would be easier if he weren't listening to it."

Ratha caught the silvercoat peering at Thakur with

54

complete bewilderment in his orange eyes. One ear was
cocked forward, the other back, as though he didn't know
whether co be Jubilant or outraged. Other clan members
exchanged puzzled looks. Shoman looked completely
taken aback and Ratha didn't blame him.

"We have made many mistakes about the danless ones,"
said Thakur. "We thought them all witless and we found
a few were not We thought them too scattered and in-
capable or a major attack on the clan. We were wrong.
Now we think we know enough about them to accept
them into the clan. I warn you that we may be wrong
again." Thakur took a breath. "Ratha, you said there have
been many changes. That is so, but not all things can or
should change. The old law that forbade Named from
mingling with Un-Named had a reason for being. It kept
the light in the cubs' eyes. If we forget it now, we risk
losing what we have struggled to be."

He looked up at Ratha as he spoke, and she felt her
old memory rise and wash over her like a river flood. The
faces of her own cubs, with their blank animal eyes...

The seasons had covered that pain slowly; the days
falling on it like leaves to the forest floor. Now it was
back again and die pain as fresh as ever. Thakur's face
seemed to change in her vision; his green eyes turning
amber with a hint of bitter yellow; his scarred muzzle
turning to one that was unblemished except for a broken
left lower fang. Even his odor changed, becoming stronger
and wilder: the scent of one who had lived alone and
hunted for himself undl he had taken her as his mate.

She thrust the memory away and saw the face that was
really before her. Why does Thakw have to look and smell
so much like his dead brother?

55

A sense of shame rose up as Bonechewer's memory
receded. She had been so caught up in Fessran's idea that
she had nearly forgotten the harsh lesson the past had
taught her. Now she wanted to bury her head between
her paws and cry aloud.

Thakur spoke again and she focused once more on his
voice, "I think it is better for the Un-Named One and for
ourselves that we not accept him and that he leave clan
ground." For the first time since he had returned to the
group, he looked the silvercoac in the face. His whiskers
started to droop. "I am sorry. I wish we had thought about
it sooner."

From her perch, Ratha studied the Un-Named One. The
firelight played over him, making him seem to move
abruptly, even though he stayed still and gazed at the
clan with unreadable eyes.

Below her, arguments flew back and forth. Anger and
disappointment showed on some faces, puzzlement on
Others. Fessran looked especially disgruntled and Ratha
guessed she would not easily forgive Thakur if he de-
stroyed her vision of a replacement for the dead Shong-
shar.

She caught fragments of conversations.

". . . we can let him eat from the kill, but forbid him
to mate..."

*'. . . our flock is getting too large. Another herder
would be helpful . . ."

". . . the way those female Firekeepers look at him?
They won't be thinking of anything else once the heat has
come on them,.."

Eyes turned to her for answers, but she had none.
Either choice might wreck the clan. She felt paralyzed,

56

lost, and wished she were running free in the night, with
only herself to dunk about. Then, out of the confusion and
despair came the beginnings of an idea. It wasn't an easy
one, but something told her it might work.

She Jumped up and lashed her tail for silence. "I have
listened to all who would speak. Now hear what I say.
Fessran, you are right about our need. And Thakur, you
speak wisely of the dangers. I also heard someone say we
might accept the Un-Named One if he were forbidden to
mate. That won't work; no one flunks of that sort of
thing when the time comes.

"What I suggest is this," she continued, beginning to
pace back and forth on the edge of the sunning rock. "If
we allow him to take a mate from among us, he must
present the cubs he sires to the rest of us so we can see
whether they have the light of the Named in their eyes."

"I will be glad if they do," Thakur said. "What will
happen if they don't?"

Ratha took a breath and halted her pacing. "If we judge
diem fit to raise in die clan, he and his mate will keep
them. If not, die young ones must be taken far from clan
ground and abandoned."

She crouched on die edge of die rock and stared down
at die silvercoat. "You. who would be Named, do you
understand?"

"Orange-eyes must show his cubs to die clan and do
what die leader says."

"Yes. If you agree to diac and bare your throat to die
Red Tongue, I will accept you.'*

The meeting erupted again as those who favored and
opposed die silvercoat bodi made dieir opinions known.
Triumphant roars and angry hisses filled die air. The emo-
tions battered at Radia, throwing her back. She leaped up.

57

adding her voice to the tumult. "Be silent, all of you! The
decision is mine and I have made it."

The meeting quieted, but an undercurrent of muttering
continued. She leaped down and stood before the gather-
ing. "Are you ready?" Ratha asked the Un-Named One.
"Then come to the sunning rock."

She ordered two torchbearers to stand on either side
while Fessran lighted another brand and brought it to her.
Before she took it between her jaws she lifted her muzzle.
"Crouch and bare your throat." A sudden fear jumped in
his eyes and she knew he remembered die dance-hunt.
The clan watched, waiting. If his will failed him now,
both he and she would lose.

She lifted the torch high. He took his place as she bid
and lifted his chin, turning his head so that she could see
the pulse bear in his throat beneath the fur.

"Now to them," she said, around the branch in her
teeth. Obediently he turned and bared his throat to the
clan. The sight of his submission seemed to calm the
group. He prolonged his awkward crouch with his head
strained up until Ratha told him to rise. She flung her
torch back into the fire.

"Siand before the clan . . . Shongshar!" she cried. "Let
the Named greet their new lair-brother."

At first the newly named Shongshar stood alone, but
gradually the clanfolk began to surround him, touching
noses and exchanging cheek rubs. When Fessran and the
Firekeepers joined in, things became more enthusiastic.
Their friendly assault nearly knocked Shongshac over,
but Ratha saw that he bore it in good humor, especially
since they all left their torches behind.

The herders were less excited, but even Shoman grudg-
ingly brushed whiskers. Thakur gave his pupil a formal

58

nose-touch and came to sit by Racha. Neither one of them
spoke as they watched the crowd of well-wishers wash over
and around Shongshar.

She couldn't help feeling a small glow of pride.

"You're making a mistake," said Thakur softly, his
whiskers in her ear.

"Arr, don't spoil it, Thakur."

"All right. I am happy for him, but I hope you know
the trail you're running."

"I have to- There is no other."

He fell silent again. She felt deflated and couldn't help
but remember her uncertainty about the newcomer and the
subtle defiance she had once sensed in him. Surely she was
wrong about that... or was she?

Suddenly, she was disgusted by her own ambivalence
and told herself to stop fretting. I've done what is best for
us. I can't ask myself for more. Only the passing days will
tell me whether I was right. I won't think about ft any
more. I don't need to hunt trouble.

CHAPTER

6




THAKUR SAT in the dry leaves underneath the
oak and watched the yearlings manage the dapple-
backs and three-horns by themselves. He hoped his train-
ing had prepared the young herders well enough for the
work ahead of them. It was fall now, and the clan's mating

59

season had begun. During this time, the yearlings took
charge of the animals, for the cubs had not reached the
age to heed the meaning of new scents carried across the
meadow on the autumn wind.

Thakur smelled the odors of females in heat. He
prickled and quivered as each smell tantalized his nose.
He jerked his tail restlessly, wishing the mating season
hadn't come so soon.

He would leave clan ground, he promised himself. His
work preparing the youthful herders was done. Now he
and the other clan adults would have to trust the skill and
courage of the youngsters. Judging from the smells and
the yowling courtship songs that filled the air, he doubted
that any of the other clan members were thinking about
the herd. Perhaps the cries of the courting males would
have irritated him less if he hadn't recognized Shongshar's
voice among them.

Thakur had hoped that the silvercoat's youth would
delay his mating for a year, postponing difficulties that
might arise over the cubs he would sire. But Shongshar
was older than he looked, and his rapid development into
a fully mature male suprised many in the clan. A few days
earlier, he had begun courting the young Firekeeper Bira,
edging out Cherfan, who was also seeking her attention.
The herder recreated with good grace, but admitted to
Thakur that he had underestimated Shongshar as a rival.
"That young rake has a louder voice than I do, if you can
believe it," Cherfan had said, lolling his tongue in a rueful
grimace.

Thakur tried to tell himself that his reaction to Shong-
shar's success was only jealousy, but there was a part of
his mind that refused to accept such an easy answer. He
had spoken to Shongshar about the possible consequences

60

of his mating and the silvercoat's answers had disturbed

him-

"Shongshar, have you thought about Ratha's words to
you when you joined the clan?" Thakur had asked him
one rainy evening not long after the ceremony that made
him one of the Named. He remembered how the silver-
coat turned his head, blinking as rain dripped from his
eyebrow whiskers onto his nose. "She make me say when
I mate and cubs are born I must bring them before her.
Only if they have light in their eyes can my mate and me
raise them."

"And if your cubs don't have the light of the Named
in their eyes, they must be left to die. Have you thought
about that?" Thakur persisted.

"I think it will be harder for female I mate with than
for me," Shongshar answered. "I won't bear the cubs and
nurse them. If eyes are empty, cubs will mean little to me."

"You wouldn't regret having to give them up?"

"No, herding teacher. "Why you ask this?" Shongshar
stopped, then cocked his head at Thakur.

"You seem to like being with the litterlings- I've seen
you working with them. You almost got into a fight with
Shoman when he bullied Bundi."

"Is that bad?"

"No," Thakur answered, "but it isn't something I ex-
pected from you. Are you sure your fondness for the
litterlings might not make you want to keep the cubs you
sire?"

Shongshar looked thoughtful. "Herding teacher, not to
worry. There is big difference between litterlings that are
stupid as herdbeasts and those whose eyes shine bright.
Even if they are mine."

/ wonder, thought Thakur.

61

"It won't be hard for me. Don't worry," said Shongshar
lightly, and he had walked away, leaving the herding
teacher full of doubt.

More yowls from the forest interrupted Thakur's
thoughts. He got up and shook the leaf litter from his
fur. The yearlings were busy with the herd and no one
was watching him. He should go.

He left the oak and paced away as a deep roar answered
one of the calls. What a fuss everybody made about the
mating season! he thought crossly. Why couldn't one
choose not to be involved without being thought peculiar?
He had never been very successful with the females; they
drove him off in favor of stronger, louder or more odor-
iferous males. Even when Ratha's leadership had raised
his status from one who was barely tolerated to one who
was eagerly accepted and respected, habit had still made
him shy away.

Habit and something else, he admitted to himself as he
jogged across the meadow. He, too, could share in the Joys
that this time brought if it weren't for the uncertainty of
his half Un-Named parentage. There was a small chance
that cubs he sired would bear the gift of the Named, but
he knew that his brother Bonechewer's mating with Ratha
had produced witless young. Any cubs that Thakur sired
were likely to turn out the same.

If he went to her now, as her smell, wafting on the
breeze, tempted him to do, she would accept him eagerly
without thinking of the consequences. In that she would
be like any Named female caught in the fever of her heat.
Yet if she did, and her cubs were born as he feared, he
would have wounded her in a way that might never heal.

He knew that she took a partner each season, but the
male left only a lingering odor on her fur, for there were

62

never any cubs. He had once asked Ratha if die under-
stood why. He never asked her again, however, for the
look of pain on her face had tightened his own throat as
she answered. "I mated after Bonechewer and I lost the
cubs. Again I took a mate, but my belly never swelled.
Why, I don't know. Somehow my body won't let me bear
another litter. Perhaps I can't forget what happened TO
the first."

"Your cubs wouldn't be witless this time," Thakur had
said. "Not if you take a clan male. Why don't you try
again?"

"I will. I can't help but try again. When the heat draws
me I don't think of such things, but afterward ..."

There would be nothing to regret. Still, he would not
risk siring empcy-eyed cubs on her. It was better that he
stay away and so he had done each year, wandering the
forests and grasslands beyond clan territory. This self
imposed exile was a lonely and bitter time for him. With-
out a companion, the journey became a weary one, and
his mind often strayed back to those he had left behind.
Had Shongshar not reached adulthood this season, he
might have joined Thakur on the trail, but now he was
back there in the midst of all the growls and tail-wavings.
Thakur would go alone, returning only when his belly
called him, to eat of the yearling borders' cull and slip
away again before he could be drawn into the fever of
courtship.

With these thoughts burdening his mind, Thakur jogged
heavily toward the stream that marked the edge of clan
territory. It was just beginning to swell with the first
winter rains. The water buffeted his legs as he waded in
the shallows. It was only deep enough to splash his belly,
but if more rain came he might have to swim back across.

63

That thought and his wee paws did nothing to ease his
temper. Mournful cries in the sky made him lift his head
to see birds circling high over the tree-covered hills in the
direction he was going. The cries made him think of
hooked beaks and quick, sharp talons; he wondered what
carrion they had found.

The wind that stole the warmth from the wet fur on his
belly seemed to chill his mind as well. A good run would
warm him up and stretch his muscles, he decided-
On the other side of the creek, Thakur swung into a
fluid canter, watching die foliage race past as a blur on
either side of him. He was proud of his speed and often
ran for the sheer joy of feeling the ground slip away
beneath his flying paws. He was galloping down a long
grade on a deer trail beneath overhanging boughs when
something darted onto the path between his legs.

One of his front paws struck it. There was a sharp
screech as the object flew into the air. Whirling his tail
to keep his balance, Thakur bounced to a stop, then re-
traced his steps to see what had tripped him.

The object moved slowly and unevenly. The culprit
was a small furball dragging itself crabwise through the
fallen leaves. It was the same size as a nursing cub, al-
though not at all the same shape. He cocked his head,
torn between caution and curiosity. Carefully he sidled
up to it and reached out with an inquisitive paw. The
creature showed tiny teeth and a pink tongue. It tried to
hitch itself across the trail again but soon stopped. One
rear leg was limp and dragging.

Thakur circled the animal as it squatted in the trail,
following him with frightened eyes. It had a short banded
muzzle, paws that bore nails instead of claws and a ringed
furry rail. It was one of the tree-dwellers who had often

64

pestered him when he tried to nap in the shade of their

trees.

Here was a chance for revenge, if he wanted it, or an
opportunity to find out how these creatures might taste.
At least k would extend his time away from the clan by
sadng his belly a little.

The young [reeling hunched itself in the dead leaves,
giving him quick nervous glances. He could see its small
sides heave and die way its racing heartbeat rocked it. He
smelled the fear that seeped from the small animal. Sens-
ing that it was helpless, the creature curled its tail around
itself and clung to it as if clinging to ks mother. It began
to stroke and pick nervously at the fur, never taking its
eyes from him.

His attention was oddly drawn to the movements of
the creature's paws. As he watched the small fingers twine
in the hair, he felt something like an itch in his mind, a
thought that almost came forward but then disappeared.

Thakur nosed the treeling. It tried to curl up into a
ball, but the injured leg got in the way. He turned the
creature over with his paw, bis belly still warring with
the strange itch in his mind.

The treeling, after sitting rigidly for a long time, made
a sudden scramble for safety. Thakur stepped firmly on
its tail. It twisted back and tried to bite his foot. He
fastened his Jaws loosely around its neck and picked it up.
The animal went limp, but Thakur could feel its heart
beating against his lips. For a moment, he fell ridiculous
and his instinct was to snap it up into his mouth or fling
it into the bushes with a sharp toss of his head.

I'm taking it with me, he decided at last. If it dies, I'll
eat it and if it doesn't... well, it might be amusing.

For the rest of the day he carried the treeling, grateful

65

that no one of the clan was there to see him or to ask
why. He shifted his grip from its neck to its scruff, which
seemed to make it a little less frightened. When at last he
let the creature down, it shook its soaked fur, spraying him
with his own saliva.

He washed his face, made a comfortable nest and settled
into it, then reached out a paw for the treeling. The animal
tried to hitch itself away, but he swept it up, dragged it
into the nest and crossed his paws over it. It made one
little peep of protest and was still.

The next morning, Thakur was mildly surprised to find
the treeling still alive and sleeping under his paw. As
soon as he moved, it woke, hissed and nipped his pad.
Despite its injured leg, the creature was quite lively, and
it was all he could do to keep it from escaping through the
grass, or fastening its small teeth in him. At last he man-
aged to grab the animal by the scruff and shake it a few
times to reduce it to a state of grudging acceptance.

At midday, Thakur stopped beside a little brook trick-
ling between the gnarled roots of two fire-scarred pines. He
was grateful to come into the shade, for the autumn sun
on his back had warmed him during the journey and, with
the treeling in his mouth, he couldn't pant to cool himself
off.

He put his soggy passenger down and dipped his muzzle
in the stream, washing away the taste of treeling fur. With
one paw on the animal's tail, he surveyed the grove into
which he'd come. The place felt peaceful and quiet with-
out being gloomy. He could stay here awhile, perhaps dig
a shallow den near the stream. First, though, he'd have to
figure out what 10 do with his treeling.

Thakur found a soft spot under a young fir and, holding
the. treeling in his mouth, started scraping pine needles

66

and litter away. Soon he had excavated a deep (reeling
refuge in the red clay beneath the tree. He lowered the
animal gently into the hole, arranged branches and needles
over it, then piled dirt on the covering before the creature
could claw its way out. He stamped the soil down and
waited to see if the creature would unbury itself. When
he saw no sign that it was escaping, he turned to the
task of digging himself a temporary den and forgot about
the (reeling.

In the morning, he slept late, enjoying his solitude.
Here there were no tail-waving females or yowling males.
No one of the clan was there to press him with their
needs or fears. He heard only the quiet trickle of the
brook and felt the pine-scented breeze teasing his whiskers.
Until he remembered the treeling.

Thakur jumped up and ran to the little fir, only to
find that he had packed the dirt down harder than he'd
thought. It took determined digging to reopen the burrow.
When at last he broke through, he almost dug the treeling
up along with the dirt. The little creature made no attempt
to escape, for it was nearly suffocated.

He pawed some clay from the brindled pelt. The tree-
ling closed its eyes and made no protest. At first he felt
relieved and then alarmed. Its passivity was probably due
to hunger, he thought, and he decided he'd better feed it.
But what would it eat? Well, if treelings lived in trees,
they probably ate leaves, he concluded, and went off to
find some.

He brought one type of leaf after another, without
success. The [reeling would eat none of them. At last, by
accident he brought a branch that had several beetles on
it. When he placed his offering outside the treeling's hole,
it poked its head out, spied a bug, snatched it up and

67

crammed the morsel into its mouth. It continued to pick
insects off the branch until all of them were gone. It
looked up at Thakur with inquisitive eyes, cocked its head
slightly and said "Aree?"

Later that morning found Thakur in a nearby stretch of
grassland, hunting grasshoppers- He had been quite adept
at this when he was a cub, although now he found lack of
practice had robbed him of some skill. Finally he managed
to catch one in his mouth and carry it back to the treeling,
feeling the struggling insect kicking his tongue. He spat
it out in front of the treeling's burrow. A small arm
emerged, caught the insect by the leg and dragged it inside.
Thakur could hear more crunching sounds.

After the grasshopper hunt, Thakur stretched out for a
nap in the autumn sun. He was almost asleep when he felt
something climb up his back and nestle in the fur on his
flank. Startled, he shook the treeling off and nosed it back
into the burrow. He returned to his nap.

When he woke, he found that the treeling had climbed
up on him again and was clinging to his pelt. He craned
his head back, seized the creature by the scruff and pulled,
but it had woven fingers and toes into his fur. Realizing
that he would pull the [reeling apart before he got it off,
he sighed and let it stay.

After a while, he found he enjoyed having the treeling
on his back. It murmured contentedly as he jogged along
and made small wordless comments whenever anything
happened. At first Thakur was afraid he might lose his
new companion and he chose his way carefully, avoiding
low branches, lest his passenger be swept off or scramble
into the trees beyond his reach. He made wide detours and
looked over his shoulder at every step to assure himself
that the creature was still there. The treeling stared back

68

at him, the expression on its short-muzzled face saying,
"I'm still here. What are you so worried about?"

Soon Thakur ceased worrying about losing the animal.
It seemed to like riding on him and sleeping in his fur at
night. During the following days, he roamed far from
the grove, carrying the treeling with him and feeding it on
beetles and the big grasshoppers that lived in the nearby
meadowlands.

He doubted that this was the food the creature had been
accustomed to, but it seemed to be nourishing on its new
diet. Thakur also ate a few of the insects himself, to ward
off the hunger that threatened to drive him back to the
clan. Hvenmally, he knew, he would have to go, and
what was he going to do with the treeling then?

Well, it was the mating season. None of the adults in
die clan would pay any attention to him. He would have
to show himself to the yearlings who were guarding the
herd and the fires; otherwise he might be attacked as an
enemy by the over-eager youngsters. He would receive
some curious stares from his pupils, but his previous au-
thority over them would keep them from asking too many
questions or trying to eat his new friend.

Friend? He was startled by the thought. Never had he
supposed he could think about any other kind of animal
as more than food, yet he had to admit that the treeling's
presence often brought him a quiet sort of contentment.

Thakur couldn't help grinning as he ambled along with
the creature on his back. "You funny little treeling-cub,"
he said, glancing over his shoulder at it "Sometimes I
wonder if you know what I'm thinking. Perhaps I should
give you a name if I'm going to talk to you as I talk to the
ones in the clan."

69

The treeling looked at him with wide solemn eyes.
"Aree," it said, as if it were agreeing with him.

"I probably shouldn't. You don't know what a name
means- It means you know what you are. Treeling-cub, do
you know what you are?"

It cocked its head at him.

"I suppose it doesn't matter. I think you're a 'he' and I
have to call you something besides 'treeling.' What should
I call you? Fur-Puller? Bug-Cruncher?"

"Aree!"

"Well, all right. Since that's the only word you know,
I'll call you Aree."

A little later the same day, Thakur was passing under
a curtain of leaves when the treeting jumped from his back
into the branches. By the time Thakur realized that Aree
was gone, he had climbed beyond sight. The tree was too
slight for Thakur to climb any farther than to the first
crotch and there he perched, looking anxiously up into the
branches and yowling helplessly, hoping Aree would come
back.

Soon there was a rustle and Aree plopped down on him,
making him lose his balance and topple out of the tree. A
wild swing of his tail enabled him to land on his feet with
the treeling still attached. When he peered back over his
shoulder, he noticed that Aree was carrying something
smooth and round. He had seen similar objects hanging
on some trees, but since he never ate any part of a tree, he
never paid attention to these things unless he stepped on
one that was rotten.

Aree was fascinated. The treeling turned his prize over
in his paws, looking at it and smelling it. The little crea-
ture had to stretch his Jaws wide before he was able to

70

bite into the skin, but once he did, he began munching
away as if he had never tasted anything so delicious in his
short life.

The fruit the treeHng picked was overripe and the
syrupy juice dribbled onto Thakur's back. It ran down his
side and matted his fur, making him itch. Irritated, he
nudged Aree aside and cleaned his coat, but as fast as he
licked himself, the treeling dribbled more juice on him.

The taste of the stuff was sweet and the only sweet
flavor Thakur knew was the taste of spoiled meat. That
was enough to make him stop licking. He tried to ignore
the smears on his coat, but as the afternoon passed, the
sun warmed his back, turning the dribbles into sticky
patches and dry, crusty spots. Once Aree had discovered
this new treat, he sought more and couldn't be persuaded
to dismount while eating. Thakur's back and neck fur
were soon stiff with dried dribbles and his skin itched
unbearably.

There were a few flies soil left from summer and they
all began TO swarm around him. The treeling, uncon-
cerned, continued to stuff himself. Unable to stand the
torment any longer, Thakur finally dislodged Aree by
threatening to roll over on him. While the treeling sulked,
he licked his back and sides, digging out sticky mats of
hair in which entrapped flies buzzed angrily.

Sometimes the treeling picked more than he could eat
and became fussy, taking one bite and throwing the rest
away. Thakur often retrieved the discards, licking the
juice from them. The first time he tried to eat one, he
gagged on the pulpy texture. Once he had grown used to
that, he tried to crack the pit as he would a bone. He
found no marrow inside, only evil-tasting seeds. He spat
everything out and opened his mouth wide, drooling saliva

71

on the ground. He ran for the stream, almost leaving Aree
behind, and lapped until the bitter taste was gone.

Thakur also discovered an interesting property of this
new food. Many of the fruits still hanging had begun to
ferment; eating those made his tongue tingle. Afterwards
he felt warm and happy, often chasing his tail and bounc-
ing around like a cub. Eating too many made him clumsy,
and he couldn't keep his paws from sliding out from under
him. His head also ached a little. The treeling chirped hap-
pily and wobbled on his back.

The treeling once became so drunk that he fell out of a
tree. A clump of ferns cushioned his landing, bur he
couldn't ride without toppling off. Thakur had to carry
Aree back to the den in his mouth. Thakur suffered also
from the treeling's overindulgence, for he had been eating
Aree's leavings. He was stricken with a severe digestive
upset that made him forget the mild pain in his head. The
two spent the rest of the day in the makeshift den, sleep-
ing much of the time and ill-tempered when they were
awake. As he lay groaning, Thakur swore he would never
touch his tongue to the cursed stuff again.

Aree recovered first, but the illness laid Thakur low
for several days. During that time Aree stayed with him,
gently grooming his fur or snuggling against him, making
soft reassuring sounds. At last his stomach started to be-
have itself again and he was able to stagger out of the
den, shaky and thin.

He knew he needed meat and he would have to return
to the clan for it. He guessed the mating season was almost
over, judging by how long he'd been away. Of course now
he must worry about what to do with his treeling, but at
least he'd have some time to think about it on the trail.

72

CHAPTER

7




THAKUR FELT the treeling dig his paws deeper
into his fur and crouch low on his back. He
peered through the gray drizzle that sifted between the
trees and looked toward the meadow where the herd
grazed. Smoke billowed above the grass and he saw the
amber flicker of fire. The treeling shook himself and
fluffed his fur. Thakur could feel how uneasy Aree was
by the way he shivered and clung. A gust of wind blew
the smoke toward them. The herding teacher had almost
forgotten how smoke snmg his nose. He sneezed and
glanced at Aree as the treeling drew back his whiskers
and rubbed his muzzle with the back of his paw.

Thakur circled along the edge of the meadow and
approached upwind of the guard-fire, allowing his scent
to drift ahead of him to announce his presence to the
young Firekeeper. The yearling might be nervous, and a
mistaken attack could frighten Aree away. Soon Thakur
could see the ring of guard flames that surrounded the
clan's animals.

He jogged toward a point midway between the closest
outlying guard-fires. A Firekeeper came out to meet him.
At the sight of Thakur, the youngster's tail went up and a
look of relief came over his face. Thakur guessed chat he
was anxious for the clan adults to return from mating and
take over their duties once again.

73

"Welcome back, herding teacher!" the Firekeeper
called. He stopped, stared and cocked his head. Thakur
knew the yearling had seen something odd about him, but
he wasn't about to stop to answer questions. He quickened
his pace.

As he crossed the meadow, he glanced toward the oak
where several clan members had taken shelter from the
misty rain. Among them he saw the gleam of a silver pelt.
He hadn't thought of Shongshar in a while. Having Aree
as a companion had distracted him from his old doubts, but
now they came back in a rush. Shongshar's head lifted
and he trotted out to meet Thakur.

Thakur relt ashamed of his worries, Shongshar had
already proven himself a worthy and valued member of
the group, the herding teacher reminded himself. It seemed
that only he, Thakur, continued to doubt him. And that
doubt was not based on Shongshar's character but on the
things he couldn't control, such as the length of his fangs,
the manner of his bite and the uncertainty of his parentage.
"Was it really fair to hold such things against him?

As Shongshar approached, Thakur could see that he had
grown heavier; the powerful muscling in his shoulders and
neck was even more evident. Now he was almost full-
grown, and there was an air of maturity and a new sense
of assurance about him. When the silvercoat drew closer,
Thakur could see why. Shongshar's muzzle was marked
with claw scratches. The herding teacher had seen those
marks on other young males after the mating season. The
older males had enough experience to Jump away before
the female could claw them, but younger ones often caught
their partner's sudden change of mood too late to prevent
a strike across the face.

For many of the young males, this was a badge of

74

maturity and they wore their wounds proudly, as Shong-
shar did now. He slowed from a jog into an easy walk, his
tail swinging. Again Thakur felt Aree tense as Shongshar's
scent reached them. The silvercoat, however, seemed to
know the need to keep his distance.

"Herding teacher, if you're hungry, there is a fresh kill,"
said Shongshar at last, after eyeing the treeling. "You are
among the first to return, and the yearlings have left
plenty."

His words reminded Thakur that his stomach hadn't
been filled with fresh meat in many days. He was seized
by a strong hunger that cramped his belly and made him
weak.

"Over here, herding teacher." Shongshar led the way
under the oak. At the sight of the kill, Thakur forgot
everything else and ate until the pangs in his stomach had
eased. When he felt sated, he scrubbed his muzzle and
washed behind his ears, bumping the treeling with his
forepaw.

He yawned, feeling the satisfying weight of a full belly.
"Ah, that is so much better!" he said, stretching out and
not minding the damp grass.

Shongshar ate a few bites and then washed himself as
Thakur had done, stopping now and then to Study the
treeling. "What does it eat?" he asked.

"Bugs. And those soft things that hang on trees."

Shongshar wrinkled his nose. "Oh." He sat up, his nose
in the air and then listened attentively. "I think some of
the others d.ce coming."

Unwillingly, Thakur got up. All he wanted was to lie
down and digest his dinner, but he had to do something
with Aree before the other clanfolk arrived.

They got there much sooner than he expected. He had

75

only reached the path that led to the dens when a whole
group of long-absent clan members spilled out of the
underbrush and greeted him with enthusiastic rubs and
nuzzles. With a terrified squeal, Aree dived underneath
him and clung to the long fur on his belly. Everyone re-
treated in surprise and Thakur was able to sort them all
out. He saw Shoman, Cherfan and Fessran on one side of
him, Ratha and Bira on the other. They looked tired and
thin, but happy. They also looked and smelted hungry.

Their voices tumbled together in his ears.

"Is that a tree-creature, Thakur?"

"Where did you gee it?"

"Are you going to eat it?'*

"I've never had one of those before. Can I have a taste?"

"It smells good. Come on, aren't you going to share?"

Thakur looked frantically for a way out of the ting of
hungry friends. He could feel Aree trembling and pulling
his belly fur so hard that it hurt. They all crowded around
him again, except for the clan leader, who stood back
watching, with an annoying look of amusement on her
face.

"Ratha!" Thakur bellowed, trying to guard Aree from
inquisitive muzzles and paws.

She waded in among the group, butting, shoving and
dealing out cuffs to those who didn't get out of her way.
"All right, leave Thakur alone, you greedy bunch. I smell
a kill over by the oak; the yearlings are welcoming us
back."

Cherfan lifted his head and tail. His eyes brightened
and he galloped away, followed by Shoman, Fessran and
Bira.

"Leave enough for me!" Ratha roared after them before
she turned back to Thakur.

76

Aree had stopped shaking, but he sdll clung tightly to
Thakur's underside. Ratha paced around the herding
teacher, trying to peek under his belly at the [reeling. He
could hear her-Stomach growl, and he wasn't sure whether
her interest was just curiosity.

"Are you really going to keep this creature?" she asked
at last.

"Shouldn't I?"

"Well, I don't know. No one in the clan has ever kept
one- I'm not sure why anyone would want to. Are you
waiting for it to grow fatter so it will make more of a
mouthful?"

"The meat is over there," Thakur said icily, flicking his
whiskers in the direction of the old oak. "If you can't
think of anything except your belly, go and eat."

Ratha reassured him that she wouldn't eat his treeling
but there was still a spark of mischief in her eyes. She
admitted one could keep a creature for reasons other than
eating it. After all, she had tamed and kept the Red
Tongue.

"I don't think this treeling is quite the same as the
creature I brought to the clan," she said critically as Aree
grew bold enough to leave his refuge under Thakur's belly
and clamber up onto his back. With a suspicious look at
her, the treeling began grooming himself again; once he
had finished, he started to part Thakur's fur, sifting through
his pelt.

Rarha grimaced. "Yarr! He's putting his paws into your
coat. Doesn't that feel terrible?"

"At first it did, but now I don't mmd," Thakur an-
swered. Ratha sat down and scratched herself briefly.

"What's he doing?" She stared harder at the treeling.

"Aree is eating my ticks. He's cleaned me off pretty

77

well and I don't have many fleas either. You probably
have more than I do now."

"I probably do- When the fleabane plane dies in the
winter, we scratch until spring." Ratha added the action
to the word. When she stood up again, Thakur bumped
up against her and tried to nudge the treeling Onto her
back.

"Oh no." She sidled away- "I don't want that thing paw-
ing through my fur."

"Are you afraid of a treeling after you've tamed the
Red Tongue?" Thakur lolled his tongue at her.

"Of course not'" Ratha's whiskers bristled,

"You want to get rid of all those itchy fleas, don't you?"

"I don't think he will climb on me," Ratha said, but
Thakur could see her resistance was weakening.

"He will if you don't try to eat him."

Still looking doubtful, Ratha edged against Thakur. He
nosed the reluctant treeling off his back. Aree hissed at
him and gave his whiskers a pull before he scrambled
onto her and began to groom her ruff. Aree buried his
muzzle in her pelt and bit at something. Alarmed, Thakur
tried 10 take the treeling off, unsure whether he was trying
to bite Ratha or something in her fur.

"No, leave him." she said suddenly. She winced, then
looked relieved. "Ooh, that hurt. Your treeling Just pulled
out the wretched tick I've been carrying around for days.
I couldn't reach it with my teeth. What a relief!"

She let the treeling clean the rest of her back. When
Aree was done, he Jumped back onto Thakur and nestled
between his shoulders, murmuring softly.

"Well?" Thakur looked at Ratha.

"Your creature felt like all the fleas in the forest were
on my back, but I am glad to be rid of that tick." Ratha

78

shook herself. "Keep your (reeling, then. I will tell the
others not to eat the creature. He isn't like the Red
Tongue, but he seems to be useful. Will he groom others
in the clan besides you and me?"

"If they are gentle and don't frighten him."
"What are you going to do with him now?'* she asked.
"Take him to my den. I think he wants to sleep."
Ratha gave the treeling one more look. "I'm going to
ask the yearlings if anything happened while I was gone,"
she said and jogged away, swinging her tail. Thakur gazed
after her, then turned up the path that led to his den,
With his full stomach, he agreed with the treeling that a
nap would be a good idea.

CHAPTER







MOST OF THE MATED females became pregnant
carrying their cubs through the winter and giving
birth in early spring. When the rainy season ended,
the clan mothers brought their litterlings from the birth-
dens to a secluded place amid an outcropping of stone. In
this sheltered nursery, guarded by one or two females, the
small cubs could sleep in the sun or crawl about on un-
steady legs.

The nursery would have been too hot at midday if it
hadn't been for the shade of a sapling that leaned over
the rocks. A gap in the lichen-dotted scenes allowed a light

79

breeze to cool the litteriings, but the nursery's shelter kept
out the chill of the early spring wind.

Racha lay, half-asleep, with a heap of dozing cubs
warming her belly. As in previous years, she had had no
cubs of her own; she took nursery duty to allow the
mothers a rest. She opened one eye and watched the sap-
ling's new leaves flutter in the breeze.

A fuzzy, chubby body blocked her view and little
paws stepped on her face. The cub was too tiny to hurt her
and she let him clamber across her muzzle, only object-
ing when he stopped halfway co chew on her whiskers.
With a grunt, she shook him off, caught him by the
scruff and swung him into the pile of his fellows who
were still asleep.

"Hmph. Your mother had better teach you that my
whiskers aren't blades of grass, even though they may
look that way when I'm lying down," she grumbled, giv-
ing him a nudge with her nose.

She lay back ro enjoy the quiet, but soon other litterlings
woke and began climbing all over her, butting her with
their heads and digging in the fur of her belly to find her
nipples. They would have to stay hungry until one of the
mothers came to feed them, she thought, regretting she
had no milk.

"Sleep until Fessran comes and she will feed you," she
said.

Ratha flicked her tail away from a cub that had started
gnawing on it, surprised that such tiny teeth could be so
sharp. She tried to nap again, but the litterlings wouldn't
leave her alone. She was starting to lose some of her
patience when Fessran slithered through the opening in
the rocks and flopped down to feed the hungry young.
There were tiny squeals and growls as the small cubs

80

fought for places at her teats. Racha sat and watched,
smelling the rich scene of flowing milk as the cubs
nursed.

"Well, has our clan leader had enough of tending
nurslings?" Fessran teased.

"They don't squabble as much as the grown cubs I have
to look after," Ratha said.

Fessran grunted. "Give them time. They will. Especially
mine." She leaned over to nudge her little male and left a
sooty smudge on him. 'The black stuff won't hurt," said
Fessran. "It's just another spot. I'll clean him up when I'm
through nursing the rest."

"Being a Firekeeper's cub may have its problems,"
Ratha teased. "If he keeps gaining spots, how will he
ever lose them as he should when he grows up?"

Fessran yawned. "Speaking of Firekeepers* cubs, has
Bira brought hers out yet?"

"No. She had a late litter. They're still too young."

"Ptahh! She had them not long after I had mine- She's
just afraid that hers aren't going to be the best. They're
not, of course, but I'm sure they'll be acceptable. I think
you should have a talk with her. She should be helping the
rest of us mothers with the nursery,"

"She's young; this is her first litter," Ratha protested.
"I don't want to bother her yet. But I am curious about
Shongshar. Does he take an interest in the litter?"

"Yes. He is more concerned with his cubs than any
male I've known."

"He seems to be good with youngsters," Ratha said
reflectively, getting up. The prospect of Shongshar hav-
ing a strong attachment to his cubs made her uneasy, but
she did not voice her concerns to the Firekeeper. Instead,
she asked, "Is Shongshar as good a Firekeeper as you had

81

hoped he'd be? I know the guard-fires have stayed strong
and we haven't recently lost any animals to raiders."

Fessran's eyes lit with pride as she answered, "Shongshar
is as good as I'd hoped and even better. Not only is he
brave and quick, but he sets a good example for the
younger Firekeepers and encourages them to work harder."

"Good." Ratha let her uneasiness fade.

The cubs who hadn't found a place to nurse crawled all
over Fessran, their mewing shrill and insistent.

"Is someone coming to help you feed the litterlings?"
Ratha asked.

"Drani is coming and her teats are full." Fessran grim-
aced and shoved a cub away from her belly- "Ouch, you
little son of a mare! You're supposed to suck, not chew."

With that, Ratha rook her leave.

During the next few days, she found herself watching
both Shongshar and Bira. Shongshac was immensely
proud or his new offspring and it showed in every seep he
took. Bira, however, seemed subdued. She was pleased at
having her first cubs. But the happiness Ratha saw in the
eyes of other mothers was marred in hers by uncertainty.
Bira still did not bring her litterlings to the nursery and
Ratha decided, reluctantly, that it was lime to speak to
her about it.

It was just after sunset and she was resting in her den
trying to think of the best way to approach the young
mother about her secrecy. She heard the tread of some-
one approaching and smelled Fessran. She raised her head,
catching the sharp scent of anger in the Firekeeper's odor.

"What is it?" she asked as Fessran came to the mouth
of the den, her tail wagging and her fur bristling.

"That little idiot Bira!" Fessran hissed. "She's aban-
doned her cubs. Shongshar came to me when he found

82

them cold and hungry. She must have gone mad. I've never
heard of anyone doing such a thing."

A prickling apprehension began to creep over Ratha.
"Is Shongshar with you?"

"No. He's with the cubs, trying to keep them warm.
I'll go to Bira's den and nurse them if you'll try to find
her."

Ratha hesitated. Invading a new mother's lair was not
something that clan females usually did. Each of them
knew how fiercely they guarded their own privacy and
the right to decide whether they would show their cubs.
Only the clan leader could violate that privacy and only
when there was need. Fessran hadn't said it directly, but
Ratha knew she was asking for permission to enter Bira's
den.

"All right. Go feed them." Ratha crawled out of the
den and shook herself, trying to get rid of the cold chill
that seemed to crawl through her fur. It was a worry she
had long suppressed and had almost forgotten about. Now
it came back in Thakur's words and his voice.

"No," she growled to herself. Fessran gave her a puz-
zled look.

"Nothing. Go on. I'll find Bira. Where did you see
her last?"

"At one of the guard-fires around the meadow. Her part-
ner left, but she may have stayed," Fessran said and
bounded away.

Ratha took the trail that led to the meadow. Bira's
scent was present, but faint, telling Ratha that the Fire-
keeper had gone to the meadow but had not returned.
When Ratha arrived, she looked into the night, narrow-
ing her eyes so she could see farther. At the most distant
flame she made out the form of a single fire-tender.

85

As Racha neared the fire, Bira charged out, her ears
flattened and her teeth bared. "Go away! I told everyone
I don't need any help."

Ratha held her ground. Bira's pace slowed and her
lashing rail went stiff. "I appreciate your diligence. Fire-
keeper," Ratha said dryly. "Bur there are others who are
waiting to serve their turn at duty."

Bira's eyes widened in dismay. "Clan leader' I didn't
mean..."

"I know you didn't," Ratha said, trying to make her
voice sound kind. "Come back to the fire and tell me why
you abandoned your cubs."

Bira followed her back to the circle of warm light
thrown by the guard-fire. Ratha saw that Bira's red-
brown coat was rough and her tail ungroomed and
matted. The young mother's nipples bulged with too
much milk and she admitted thac they hurt.

"Why don't you go and feed your litterlings?" Ratha
asked again. Bira flinched and ducked her head, saying
nothing-

"Is there something the matter with them?"

Bira trembled and then gave a little Jerk as if she
wanted to jump up and flee. She turned her head away
and gazed with longing inro the night. This was not like
Bira at all, Ratha thought. She had always been calm and
level-headed, even as a cub. Her only fault was vanity;

she was overly proud of her long bushy tail. That she had
ceased ro groom herself told how troubled she was-

As Ratha watched her, she grew more certain that she
knew the cause of Bira's distress.

"Bira," she said softly. "Are you afraid your cubs have
no light in their eyes?"

The young mother shuddered and suddenly the words

84

burst out of her. "Shongshar thinks there's nothing
wrong with them, but he doesn't know. I'm the one who
sees the lack of something in their eyes. I'm the one who
tries to get them to say their first word, afraid that they
will never speak..."

"Bira, it's too early to tell," Ratha said, trying to make
herself believe her own words. "Have any of the cubs in
other litters begun to talk?"

"No . . . but they try. Fessran said that her little fe-
male is starting to imitate her and makes noises that are
almost words."

"Ptahh! Fessran brags about her young. All the
mothers do," Ratha said, trying to comfort her. "And you
should know better than to listen to them."

But Bira didn't seem convinced. "No," she said stub-
bornly, looking at the ground. "There is something wrong.
Maybe I carried them too long or my milk is bad."

"There's nothing wrong with your milk," Ratha in-
sisted. Bira said nothing. She sat and shivered even in
the warmth of the fire. For a long time she stared at
nothing.

"Fessran asked to nurse your cubs," Ratha said at last.
"I told her to reed them. I can't let litterlings starve Just
because you think there is something wrong with them.
We need every cub we can raise. I want you to take them
back and care for them until we know if they can be
named. Will you go and nurse them?"

Bira shut her eyes. "No, clan leader."

Ratha sighed. "Well, I can't drag you to your den and
force you to nurse. Since Fessran is willing to feed your
young, would you be willing ro care for hers?"

"If my milk made my litterlings sick, wouldn't it hurt
hers?'* Bira asked.

85

"I don't think so," said Ratha patiently.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause all this trouble . . .
yes, I will feed Fessran's cubs."

Bira gave the guard-fire some more wood and then
followed Rarha back across the meadow. The clan leader
waved her tail at two Other Firekeepers, who promptly
took Bira's place.

The young mother wasn't sure that Fessran's cubs
would accept her, but soon Bira was lying on her side in
the maternal lair with three cubs sucking and kneading
her belly. Once she had been made comfortable, Ratha
went to the other den to tell Fessran that her young were
being cared for. Then she returned to her own den and
fell into an uneasy sleep.

The next morning Ratha came by to see how Bira's
cubs were faring. When she arrived at the den, Fessran
had finished feeding them and was gone. Shongshar was
taking them out of the den to play. This was the first
time she had seen his young in full daylight and she
studied the cubs carefully.

Even though his litterlings were slightly younger than
most of the clan cubs, they seemed older. They were
larger, stronger and steadier on their legs than cubs in
Other liners. Although their heads had the same round
baby form as other cubs', there was a subtle hint that they
would develop the same arched skull as their father. The
color of the fur between their spots was a fawn so light
it looked ashy, with touches of silver-gray. Their infant
chubbiness couldn't quite hide the heavier forequaners
and longer forelegs. Their paws were large, showing that
they would someday equal their father in size. The smell
on them was more Shongshar's than Bira's.

She watched him too and saw that, unlike most of the

86

clan males, who wouldn't tolerate their cubs until they
reached a sensible age, Shongshar was delighted with his.
He abandoned his usual reserve and played with them as
if he were just another cub in the same litter. He let them
attack his tail, chew on his ears and climb all over him.
Rarha had never heard Shongshar purr, but the contin-
uous rumble that came from his throat as he rubbed his
cheek against the little male was the sound of absolute
contentment.

Yet, the longer she watched, the more she felt a grow-
ing uneasiness about the cubs. They played much as the
litterlings in the nursery did: they stalked, pounced and
wrestled; but there was something strangely lacking.
Their movements were quick and their eyes keen; they
seemed to notice everything that moved. But once the
object, such as a swaying flower or their father's tail, had
been attacked and subdued, it held no further interest un-
less it moved again.

The litterlings in the nursery also were attracted by
things that moved, but after the first clumsy pounce, the
cub's expression would change from the excitement of
the hunter to the intent curiosity of one who hungered
to understand its world. The litterlings' eyes always held
questions, even if their tongues were not yet ready to ask
them.

Being careful not to disturb the three, Ratha edged
closer so she could see more clearly. Shongshar's eyes
were glowing with affection and happiness as he tumbled
the cubs about with his big paws. Their eyes were alive
with momentary excitement, but there was nothing more.
Trying to fight the chill creeping over her, Ratha stared
hard until her own eyes ached, but she could see nothing.
No questions, no hunger ... no light. As much as she des-

87

perately wished to deny it, she knew Bira's instincts had
been right.

She felt as though she were looking at cubs who had
been stricken with sickness and were soon to die. The
sight of them suddenly made her belly churn as it did
when she smelled rotten meat; she hated herself for her
feeling. Now she knew why Bira couldn't nurse them. If
she had forced the young mother to care for these cubs,
she would certainly have killed them and then run from
the clan in shame and despair.

"Clan leader!" Shongshar had caught sight of her.
Ratha gathered her feelings together and put them away.
She forced herself to approach him.

"I see chat they're thriving on Fessran's milk," she said,
unable to think of anything else.

"I'm grateful to her for nursing them." Shongshar
stopped and looked troubled. "I don't understand what's
wrong with Bira. How could she leave such fine cubs as
these? Look how quick and strong they are."

Ratha knew she didn't have to answer him. As clan
leader, she didn't have to answer anyone if she didn't
want to. She could just mumble something vague and
walk away. She looked up into his eyes. The happiness had
gone, replaced by the shadow of the same pain she had
seen in Bira's. Inwardly she hesitated, knowing that what
she must say next would only add to his hurt.

"Shongshar, do you remember the promise you made to
me the night you were given your name?"

His ears twitched as if he wanted to lay them back
and hiss at her. "Yes," he said harshly. His eyes widened,
becoming frightened, almost pleading. "Clan leader, isn't
it too soon to tell? I'm sure my cubs will have the light
in their eyes when they are older. You can't judge them

88

now. Please, give them some time. I know what Bira
thinks, and she's wrong; I know she is."

Ratha wanted to turn away from him, but she forced
herself to stay where she was and show no expression.
"Do you regret that promise to me?" she asked him.

"No. There was no other choice- If I hadn't come to
you, I would have died," he said simply. "But I thought
it would be easy to give up my cubs. I never knew how
I would feel about them."

Thakur knew, she thought. That was the reason he was
worried.

"I won't judge them now," she said, looking directly
ar him. "You are right; it is nor yet time. But the time will
come when I must judge them and you must accept my
decision."

His tail drooped and he looked at the ground, "I under-
stand, clan leader."

He said no more and went back to playing with the
cubs, but his movements seemed slower and less spirited-
Ratha found it easier not to watch as she went away.

The following day, Ratha visited the nursery. The
weather seemed to share her stormy mood. Spring had re-
treated back into winter, with gusty winds that blew her
fur backward and stole the warmth from her coat. De-
spite the weather, the mothers had brought their cubs out;

two females were looking after a large collection of active
youngsters.

Most of the cubs had mastered the skill of walking and
were now attempting to run. The nursery enclosure was
full of spotted bodies hurtling from one side to the other.
Ratha watched their antics until she heard someone com-
ing toward her from the opposite direction. It was Fess-
ran, carrying one of Bira's cubs in her mouth. She had a

89

meaningful look in her eyes that said she was not just
bringing the cub out to play. Ratha had almost been
expecting something like this. Although Fessran had con-
tinued to care for Bira's cubs, she missed her own and
the strain of worrying about two litters, in addition to
her duties as Firekeeper leader, was making her curt and
short-tempered.

Behind Fessran, Ratha saw Shongshar with the Other.
"Drani," Ratha heard Fessran say to one of the two
other females who were there, ."you have so many litter-
lings that a few more shouldn't trouble you. I'll make sure
Bira takes her turn here since these are hers."

Fessran backed out, allowing Shongshar to slither
through the narrow cleft between the rocks and deposit the
second cub. Drani hissed at the unexpected entry of a male
and Shongshar hastily retreated, tailfirst.

"If you see Bira," said Fessran irritably, "tell her she
can feed her own wretched cubs. I want mine back." Then
she was gone.

Ratha settled down to watch Bira's youngsters as they
made their first attempts to enter the group. Unexpectedly,
Shongshar hopped up beside her. Drani looked at him
and growled.

"Oh, stop it. He isn't going to hurt them," Ratha
snapped.

Shongshar sent Ratha a grateful look as he found a seat
on the boulder. The wind teased his silver fur and spread
the hairs of his tail against the rock. He leaned down,
picked up his little female cub by the scruff and began
washing her. When he was finished, he put the litterling
back in the nursery.

Another cub pattered up to her and tried to touch
noses. She shook herself and walked away. The other

90

youngster followed, trying to sniff her tail. With a silent
snarl and laid-back ears, she Jumped on him and seized
his ear. With a squeal, the other cub backed away drag-
ging her with him.

"No, no, no!" the clan-cub cried shrilly, using the only
word he knew. Finally he managed to shake her off and
retreated, looking totally bewildered.

"Come here," Shongshar growled at his daughter. She
gave him one glance and then bounced away beyond
reach of his paw. Drani had to catch her and deliver her
back to her father. He took her by the scruff and set her
between his paws while Radia watched. "No," he said
sternly. "No. You shouldn't do that to the other cubs."

She looked at him blankly and struggled to get free.
When Shongshar put her back in the nursery, she
promptly attacked another Utterling and paid no atten-
tion to his scolding. It took a sharp cuff from Drani to
free the victim, and the culprit was again delivered to
her father.

"She's not used to other cubs," Shongshar said, with a
faintly embarrassed look at Ratha. This time, he kept the
cub in front of him, giving Ratha a good chance to study
her closely. Her eyes were a gray-blue, with odd orange
flecks. She was definitely larger and stronger than the
other''litterlings, but her stare was as flat and unfocused
as that of a newborn whose eyes had just opened.

Ratha suspected that Shongshar couldn't control her
because she couldn't understand his words. The only lan-
guage she knew was that of growls and cuffs. She wasn't
surprised when Shongshar took his daughter by the nape
and left the nursery. He reappeared a short time later and
picked up the young male.

91

CHAPTER

9




RATHA WAITED before she decided to go after
Shongshar. He must know by now that hfs cubs
will never bear names, she thought. Bira knows and she
has cut herself off from them. He must do the same or
leave daft ground.

The late afternoon sun had slipped behind a cloud and
the rocks beneath her were starting to chill. Wearily she
rose and left the nursery, seeking the path to Shongshar's
den, a trail her feet were coming to know too well.

He was there, lying across the entrance to the lair as
if guarding the way in. Two spotted faces peered out over
his back. He lifted his head, showing his profile, and his
lip drew back to expose the length of his fangs. He did
not look at her.

Ratha sat down, keeping her distance. She waited as
the shadows of trees and bushes lengthened, spreading
across the ground to the mouth of the den. Her own
shadow crept with the others until it couched him-

The wind shifted, blowing his scent to her. She smelled
the pungent odor of anger and the bitter acrid scent of
despair. She rose and took one pace toward him. The
orange glow in his eyes deepened and his nape lifted.
Fear struck at her and she fought it aside.

"You have long fangs, Shongshar," she said. "They

92

could easily find my throat. Killing me would not change
the truth about your litterlings."

"It is not you I would kill, clan leader," Shongshar
answered in a low growl.

Ratha's gaze hardened. "If you seek revenge on Bira,
you are wrong. She is clan born. Had she taken someone
other than you—"

"It is not Bira's fault. I know that."

Her fear eased, but she remained wary. "Bira will not
return to these cubs. Now that you know what they are,
you must abandon them and never think of them
again."

The little female started to climb over Shongshar's
back. He took her by the scruff, laid her down between his
paws and began licking her, even though she smelled as
though she had already been washed. Ratha sensed this.
was his answer.

At last he looked up at her and said, "I didn't know
how I would feel about my cubs when I made you the
promise that gave me my name. I didn't know how hard
it would be." His eyes added the accusation. You can't
know how hard. it is, clan leader.

Her belly ached for him in his sorrow. "You think I
ask you to give up your cubs without knowing the bitter-
ness of it?" she asked. He had begun licking the female
cub again, but he stopped and laid a paw over her.

"I will tell you something," Ratha said to him. "I have
told it to only one other among the Named. I bore a lit-
ter of cubs like yours. I took a male who came from out-
side the clan, like you. When I realized that my young
were witless, I nearly went mad." The words poured out
of her as the memory came flooding back. "I attacked my

93

mate and tried to kill one of the cubs. He drove me away.
Later, he died. I don't know what happened to the cubs;

they are probably dead now."

Shongshar lay, looking at her in silence while the
shadows crept over his coat. His daughter squeaked and
he hushed her. "So you know what this is like." He nudged
the cub, who gave Ratha a wide-eyed stare, then blinked
and yawned.

Racha found it difficult to keep her gaze steady. "Yes, I
do," she answered finally. "I'm . . . sorry."

He looked away. "What must I do now if I choose to
obey you?"

"Take the cubs far away from clan ground and leave
them. Or, if you choose nor to obey me, you may leave
the clan tonight and take them with you." She paused,
letting him absorb her words. "I will return ro your den
tomorrow morning. Either way, if you stay or leave, the
cubs must be gone."

"And if I choose to go?"

Ratha swallowed. "Then we will lose the best fire-
tender we have ever trained. Your name will be given to
the eldest male in the next litter that is born and you will
again be the orange-eyed one among the Un-Named."

She got up. The shadows were fading with the coming
twilight. "Despite everything, I wish you well, Shong-
shar," she said and hoped he couldn't see how she had
begun to tremble.

She suddenly wanted to be'with someone who could
give her comfort, or at lease some understanding and
companionship. Thakur, she thought, / need you. I know
we have disagreed, but don't turn away from me now . . .
please don't turn away ...

94

The desire to see the herding teacher became an over-
whelming hunger that sent her flying down the dark-
ened trail in search of him.

"Watch out, clan leader!" came a familiar voice out
of the dusk; she saw a pair of green eyes ahead on the
trail. Ratha stopped so fast to avoid a collision that she
skidded on wet leaves and fell on her side. Her breath
burning in her throat, she hauled herself to her feet.

She forgot her embarrassment and her soggy flank as
Thakur's voice and scent reached her. The green eyes
blinked. Another, smaller pair glowed momentarily and
Ratha made out the shape of the treelmg's face between
the outline of Thakur's ears.

The herding teacher came forward to touch noses with
her. "Where were you going in such a hurry?"

"To find you," Ratha gulped. "You were right about
Shongshar. Bira's cubs are witless. You were right and I
didn't listen," she cried. "Oh, I wish I had!"

Thakur was quiet for a while and his silence tore at
her in a way worse than angry words could. When she
thought she couldn't bear it any longer, he said, "Come
with me co my den. We'll talk there."

Gratefully she padded after him until they reached his
lair. He stood aside to let her in and then followed.

"I knew Bira had abandoned her litter," he said as she
curled up with the earthen wall of the den against her
back. The rich smell of soil and leaf-mold mixed with
his scent made her feel better.

"Their eyes are empty," she said, feeling her voice
growing steadier. "I know. I looked at them."

"There is no chance that you are mistaken?"

"How could I be wrong, when my own cubs were like
that? I'll never forget my daughter's eyes. I imagine Bira

95

won't forget hers either." Her voice was heavy with self-
accusation.

"She'll get over it, in time. You did."

Ratha laid her head on her paws. "I did until seeing
Shongshar's cubs brought it all back."

"What have you cold Shongshar?"

"I reminded him of his promise to me and gave him
the choice of abandoning his cubs in order to stay, or tak-
ing them with him and leaving the clan."

"Can he take them?" Thakur asked.

"I think so. They were still nursing, but Fessran was
starting to feed them chewed meat. He can't give them
milk, but he can chew meat for them."

She heard the soft sound of the herding teacher's tail
brushing the ground as he curled it around himself. "When
does Shongshar have to make the choice?"

"I said I would come to his den tomorrow. If the cubs
are still there, I suppose I will have to take charge of
them myself." She sighed unhappily at the thought of
that possibility.

She heard an odd shuffling noise and then Thakur say-
ing softly, "Go on, little friend. She knows you. She
won't hurt you."

She felt the treeling's paws on her hind foot and held
Still as Aree hopped up onto her leg and walked up her
flank to her back, where he began grooming her fur.
Aree's couch was so gentle and careful that she wondered
if the treeling knew she was upset.

"The longer I have Aree, the more I think he knows
what I'm feeling." said Thakur, and his voice was warm
with affection for the treeling. "He doesn't speak, but he
seems to say things with his paws."

"He is very gentle. I hope he doesn't mind that I'm

96

a bir wet." Ratha felt her tenseness seeping away and
stretched her mouth wide in a great yawn. "I just had
a funny thought."

"What?"

"Aree grooms me the way you would if you had his
clever little paws. Maybe he's got some of you in him."

"Perhaps," said Thakur softly. "Do you feel better?"

"A little. I wish he could groom out all my bad feel-
ings along with the ticks and the fleas."

"Not even a (reeling can do that."

Ratha drew in her breath and let it out in a huge sigh,
lifting the [reeling up on her ribs and letting him sink
down again.

"Are you thinking about tomorrow?" Thakur asked,
after he had been quiet awhile.

"Yes. I hope Shongshar's cubs are gone when I reach
the den. I'll still have to face Fessran and tell her what
has happened, bur I'd much rather do that than have co
take them out and abandon them myself."

"I'll come with you, if you want."

"I thought you were angry with me," she said, surprised.

"Not any more." He paused. "If you do have to take
the cubs, you can't carry both of them at once."

"Thakur, you don't have to," Racha answered, ashamed
and grateful at the same time. "This is my responsibility."
"The responsibility belongs to all of us," he said as
Aree finished cleaning Ratha's fur and climbed down
from her back. She felt warmed, comforted and ready to
sleep. Perhaps she would be able to face the coming day
after all, she thought.

She woke early, unsure of what had roused her. It
might have been a bird trilling outside or the faint morn-

97

ing light filtering into the den. She buried her nose in her
tail and cried to shut her eyes again, but it was useless.
Thoughts of the task that lay ahead stole sleep away. All
she could do was watch arid wait while the gray light
outside grew stronger and Thakur's ribs rose and fell
with his slow breathing. Aree, curled up against his belly,
looked like a small cub with dusky brown fur,

The treeling began to stir. Thakur twitched and moved
in his slumber. She hoped he would wake soon; it was
nearly time to depart for Shongshar's den. When he
settled down again and began to snore, she reached out
a hind foot and poked him. He grumbled a sleepy pro-
test, but his eyes opened and, when she stepped over him
on her way out of the den, he quickly came to life.

A ragged fog lay along the ground and patches of mist
hung around the few stands of trees. Thakur crawled out
of the den with Aree wobbling and yawning on his back.
The treeling eyed the weather with distaste and fluffed
his fur.

The moist air held scents well and before Ratha reached
Shongshar's den she knew he and the cubs would still
be there. Someone else would also be with them. Fessran's
odor and footprints were fresh, telling Ratha that the
Firekeeper leader had taken the same path earlier in the
morning.

"I think Shongshar came to get her," Thakur said, from
behind Ratha. "His scent is alone on one side of the trail
and mingled with hers on the other." Aree contributed a
sneeze to the conversation and then shook itself.

Ratha glanced back and wondered whether Thakur
should bring his treeling on an errand such as this. She
was so graceful for his presence that she decided not to
say anything. No one would notice anyway; the creature

98

had become so much a part of him. If Shongshar became
angry and forced a fight, Thakur would send his com-
panion up into the nearest tree.

"Even so," she said to him as they approached, "you let
me go first-"

She saw Shongshar waiting outside the den. His feet
and legs were tost in the white swirl of ground fog and
the silver in his coat blended into the gray mist- His eyes
were the only part of him she could see clearly and they
burned at her with a mixture of pain and defiance.

"I couldn't abandon them," he said in a tow growL "I
tried, but I just couldn't do it."

Racha faced him directly. "Do you wish to Stay with
us?"

"I came to the dan because it was the only way I could
survive. There is nothing for me outside."

"You have disobeyed me," Racha said. "The cubs are
Still here and so are you. However, if you stand aside and
let me take them you may keep your name and yout place
among us."

He moved away from the mouth of the lair and stared
away as she passed him. "I'm sorry, Shongshar," she said
but he gave no indication that he had heard.

She bent her head and crawled inside the den. A warm,
milky scent met her nose. Enough light entered the lair
so that she could see Fessran stretched out with Shong-
shar's young at her teats.

"They won't be nursing much longer," she said. "I've
begun co feed them chewed meat, but they still need a
little milk."

"I thought you weren't going to care for them any
more."

"I wasn't." Fessran replied. "But when Shongshar came

99

and asked me again, I couldn't refuse him. Why aren't
you doing something about getting Bira to nurse them?"

Ratha braced herself and said in a flat voice, "Bira is
not coming back to them, Fessran. Hasn't Shongshar told
you what I said to him last night?"

The Firekeeper narrowed her eyes and curled closer
about the litterlings- "So you are going to take them to
die. I didn't believe you could do such a thing."

Rarha lost her temper. "Oh, stop trying to fool your-
self! You've looked at those cubs and you know as well
as I do that there is nothing in their eyes." She Stopped,
trying to calm herself. "Didn't Drani tell you about the
trouble in the nursery?"

"Yes," Fessran admitted, looking down at the floor be-
tween her paws. She sat up as the restless cubs continued
to paw at her belly.

Ratha leaned forward and opened her jaws to take the
little male by the scruff. Fessran blocked her, snarling.
"No! I have given these cubs my milk. I don't want them
to die."

Ratha crouched, her own nape raised, lips pulling back
from her teeth.

"I ... I Just think you should give them a little more
time, that's all... ," Fessran faltered, embarrassed by her
sudden flare of anger.

"And you think that it will be easier then? When you
have nursed them longer and begun to think of them as
yours?" Ratha hissed.

"No. I know they are Bira's."

"But you will still want to see them kept and raised,
for Shongshar's sake."

The Firekeeper stared bade. her eyes reflecting the light
from the lair's entrance.

100

"Fessran, I would do you no kindness by allowing you
to keep them. What will happen when these cubs grow
up and you have to face the truth about them? What will
happen when the mating season comes? We won't be able
to keep them from mating, any more than we could keep
Shongshar from it. Do you want to see more litters like
this? Do you want to birth cubs like this?"

"No!" Fessran cried. "No, not if you are right about
them. But you could be wrong."

Raeha snatched the little male and placed him so that
the light from outside the lair fell across his face. "Go on,
look at him," she hissed. "Look at him and tell me if you
really think I'm wrong." She seized him by the scruff and
held him up before Fessran.

The cub hung in her Jaws, making no effort to struggle.
Fessran peered into his face, studying him intently. Some-
thing like pity and revulsion came into her eyes and she
turned her head away.

"All right, take him," she said harshly. "Take the fe-
male, too; she's the same."

Ratha put the cub down long enough to say, "Go back
to your family, Fessran. Go back to your little daughter
who is starting to talk. Think how proud you will be
when you bring your cubs before the clan to be given
names."

She picked the litterling up and carried him from the
den.

Outside, she paused in front of Shongshar and put the
cub on the ground to free her jaws. "These cubs are
yours," she said. "If you still want to take them and aban-
don them yourself, I will trust you."

"No, clan leader," he answered. "You were the one

101

who asked for that promise. You have said my cubs must
die. I can't fight you, but I won't help you either."

She took a breath. "All right. They are my responsibil-
ity now. I accept that."

She picked up the cub again, but Shongshar stood,
blocking her way. His orange eyes burned with grief, but
what frightened Ratha was the sudden hate that flared in
their depths. It was as if she were looking into the eyes of
an old bitter enemy. Ratha felt her nape and back itch as
the hair lifted; she narrowed her eyes and growled, sweep-
ing her tail from side to side. Shongshar moved out of her
way, but as Ratha passed him she sensed that she had not
won the confrontation, she had only delayed it.

Fessran crawled out of the den, her coat rumpled.
Without looking at the elan leader, she said, "Come with
me, Shongshar. I am having trouble being a Firekeeper
leader and raising a family at the same time. Cherfan
isn't interested in my cubs. If I share my family with you,
it will help both of us."

Shongshar lowered his head and paced to Fessran's
side. Neither of them looked back at Ratha as they left.

When Shongshar and Fessran had gone, Thakur came
out of the brush and fetched the female cub from the lair.

Carrying the cubs in their mouths, the two left clan
ground and trotted toward the hazy shapes of the moun-
tains beneath the rising sun. Ratha's jaw was soon aching
from straining against the male cub's weight, but she
forced herself to go on carrying him, without stopping to
rest. Something told her to get these Htterlings as far
from clan territory as possible.

Part of her started to go numb as she traveled, and it

102

wasn't Just her jaw. Her legs seemed to go on by them-
selves while her mind functioned only enough to choose
the path. The litterlings, seemingly dazed, never cried or
struggled, which made them seem more like lifeless bur-
dens than living creatures.

For the rest of the day Ratha and Thakur traveled over
plains and foothills until they reached the mountains.
Among the pine forests that covered the lower slopes,
they found a stream leading up through a shallow can-
yon until it entered a sheltered meadow. The surrounding
canyon walls protected the meadow from wind and the
stream lay close by. When the two saw the enclosed pas-
ture, they knew they had come far enough.

As soon as Thakur let the female cub down, she began
stalking a large beetle that clung to a swaying stem. She
wriggled, pounced, and then Ratha heard her jaws crunch
on the insect. The linerling grimaced in disgust at the
taste but she gulped it down.

Ratha stared at her, then at Thakur as he said, "Hmm.
If she can eat insects, there is a chance that she and her
brother may survive here."

"Maybe. Fessran said they had begun to eat chewed
meat."

She watched the cubs as they romped around their new
home. When they reached the far end of the meadow, she
felt Thakur nudge her. "We should go now," he said
softly.

He trotted away downstream and, after one last look
at Shongshar's cubs, Ratha followed.

She said little on the journey back to clan ground.
Although there was some hope that the abandoned young
might survive, she knew she couldn't risk telling Shong-
shar where they had been left, Thakur led the way back

103

and she paced after him, wondering if she would ever
lose the weariness of body and spirit that had crept over
her, numbing her feelings.

CHAPTER







FOR A WHILE AFTER Thakur and Ratha re-
turned to clan ground, he noticed that she was
unusually subdued and did not appear among the Named
any more often than she had to. She spent much time in
her den, her head resting on her paws, her eyes staring
ahead at nothing.

"It would have been no easier for me if Shongshar had
taken his cubs out and abandoned them," she muttered in
response co Thakur's gentle questioning. "It was I who
allowed him into the clan to sire those cubs and it was I
who decided he must lose them. I wish I could forget that
they were ever born, but I keep seeing those little faces
before me."

"You didn't kill the cubs," Thakur pointed out. ""We
chose a place for them where there is food and they will
be safe."

"Until the next hungry beast comes along. It doesn't
really matter. Shongshar thinks they are dead and so does
everyone else who knew about them. Only you and I know
that they may survive, at least for a little while."

She sighed, laid her head back on her paws and stared

104

away again, not noticing when Aree hopped up on her and
began to groom her pelt. Thakur called the (reeling back
again, knowing that Ratha's distress was something she
would have to come to terms with by herself; he couldn't
help her. He wondered if the faces she saw in her waking
dreams were those of Shongshar's cubs or of her own lost
young.

Gradually she came out of her lassitude, but whether
she had resolved her feelings or just buried them, Thakur
couldn't tell. As much as he wanted to stay with her and
comfort her, he had other duties that called him. The
cubs in the spring Utters were now old enough so that he
would soon have to begin training some of them as
herders.

"It's too early to wake up," Thakur grumbled, opening
one eye at his treeling. Aree cocked his head at him and
evaded his sleepy paw. For some reason the creature was
unusually frisky. On all fours he galloped to the threshold
of the den, poked his nose out, galloped back and leaped
on Thakur. The creature pawed his fur and told him, with
various (reeling noises, what he thought of those who
snored in their dens while there was such a beautiful
morning outside.

The scolding, plus the impact Aree had made when he
landed on him, brought Thakur fully awake. "I'm feed-
ing you too much," he growled at the treeling. "You're
getting heavy." The treeling had grown rapidly, reaching
his adult size. Now when Aree stood beside Thakur on
all fours, his back reached the level of the herding
teacher's belly. With his legs and tail outstretched, he
could extend himself from Thakur's shoulder to withers.

Aree looked at Thakur with such wide soulful eyes that

105

he knew he must feed his creature. The herding teacher
crawled wearily out of his den and found a dead tree that
was covered with bark-beetles. Aree climbed up and
munched on the insects until he was sated.

Thakur's belly was still comfortably full from the
previous day's herdbeast kill, so he would not have to eat
for a few days. He shivered as the cold in the early morn-
ing air crept into his coat. The mothers would eventually
bring their cubs to the meadow and the first day's teach-
ing would begin, but it was still much too early.

He considered returning to his den, but the treeling
was still lively. Aree would never let him go back to sleep.
He decided instead to take a walk out to the meadow. Some
Firekeepers might Still be on duty and he could warm
himself at the guard-fires.

Only a single fire was still going when he got there,
and he could see that the Firekeeper was getting ready to
put it out. During winter, the guard-fires burned night
and day, but in summer they were only needed in dark-
ness, or when an attack threatened the herds.

He quickened his pace and called to the Firekeeper. He
had not expected that it would be Bira.

She greeted him with a nose-touch and asked when he
was to start teaching.

"This morning, but not for a while," he answered. "My
treeling got me up."

"Could Aree groom my tail?" asked Bira, glancing at
the treeling. "I didn't take care of myself for a while and
now I've got some wretched burrs that I can't get out
with my teeth."

"I think Aree wouldn't mind." Thakur nosed Aree off
his back and Bira spread her tail along the ground. She
still looked a bit thin and worn, but the fact she had

106

begun ro care about how she looked told Thakur that she
was recovering from the shock of learning that her young
were witless.

"Are the cubs gone?" she asked suddenly.

Thakur hesitated. "Yes. I helped Ratha take them
away."

"Don't tell me where. I don't want to know." Her tail
twitched beneath Aree's paws. "I'll have another litter
next spring. Shongshar will have to go away when the
mating season comes again, won't he?"

"I suppose he will," the herding teacher answered.
Perhaps Shongshar would accompany him on his annual
journey away from the clan. The prospect of having a
partner during his yearly exile was something he might
welcome to help ease the loneliness of being away. How-
ever, he reminded himself, his own retreat was self-
imposed. Shongshar's might not be. Ratha certainly didn't
want any more empty-eyed litters born on clan ground.

Bira dug her claws into the dirt and grimaced as Aree
pulled hard at a tangle in her tail The treeling wrapped
his own tail around hers, to steady himself. He gave a
tremendous yank and the burr came free. Aree held the
hair-covered thing up in his paws and Bira sighed with
relief.

When the treeling had finished grooming Bira, he
climbed back on Thakur and cleaned his own coat. She
yawned and then began scuffing dirt on the flickering fire.

"Wait," said Thakur. "It's early and I'm still cold. Why
don't you let me keep the Red Tongue for a while?"

Bira looked doubtful "The ashes should be buried.
Fessran said chat was important."

"I'll bury them when I've wanned myself. Look at
Aree. He's shivering too. After all, he did get that burr

107

out of your tail." He nudged the treeling and Aree re-
sponded by giving Bira a mournful look.

"All right. Since the other Firekeepers are gone, I'll
let you have it. But. . . don't let Fessran know. She's be-
coming strict with us about the proper care of the fire-
creature. She wasn't that hard on us before, but she is now.
I think she's been listening to Shongshar a lot lately." Bira
wrinkled her nose. "Too much if you ask me."

Mildly surprised at this, Thakur promised and Bira
trotted off, swinging her rail and yawning. He curled up
near the fire, which had fallen into embers with a few
ragged flames licking charred branches. Aree sat on
Thakur's flank, gazing at the fire. He noticed that the
treeling had stopped fidgeting and grown unusually quiet.

All creatures except die Named feared fire and would
not come close to it. Even Aree had huddled in Thakur's
fur when he had first brought his new companion near
the Red Tongue. Now Thakur wondered if his treeling
might have gained some of the same understanding that
allowed the Named to tame their fear of the fire. It was
ridiculous to suggest that treeiings could think as well
as the Named did, but Aree had shown surprising clever-
ness and interest in things other than food and grooming.
The treeling also seemed to be aware of Thakur's feelings;

something the herding teacher did not expect from a
creature he thought of as an animal. Dapplebacks and
three-horns were animals too, but they were kept to be
eaten, Aree was different.

There was no fear in the treeling's eyes as he gazed at
the fire. Even before Aree moved, Thakur sensed that he
was about to do something he had never done before. The
herding teacher held himself still, but not stiff as Aree
climbed down from him. The treeling crouched in the

108

ash-flecked dirt in front of the fire, staring into the flames
with a curious intensity. He lowered his muzzle and
blinked against the heat. He reached toward the flame
with a paw.

Thakur thought at first that Aree was about to make
the same mistake that young cubs often did when they
encountered the Red Tongue for the first time. They would
try to touch the flame itself, not realizing that the most
visible part of the fire-creature was the most insubstantial.
He readied himself to snatch Aree away if he should try to
grasp the dandng flame. But the treeling's paw stopped
and descended to a stick that was lying with one end in

the coals.

Thakur felt his heart jump and begin to race. Now he
understood what he had sensed upon finding the injured
creature on the trail: the possibility that those clever lit-
tle paws might serve the Named in the most difficult task
the clan had attempted, the mastery of the Red Tongue.
He held in his breath as the paw touched the unburned
shaft of the stick and closed around it.

Embers broke open, showing their glowing centers as
Aree dragged the stick from the fire. As he lifted the
branch ro his eyes, the tiny flame on the end sank down
and died, leaving only the red and orange coals amid the
black scale that had been bark. The treeling brought the
end to his face and studied it intently. He reached up with
as other paw as if to touch the glowing wood, but the
heat warned his fingers away.

Softly, carefully, Thakur began to purr. He didn't
know why the treeling had taken the stick from the fire
and, at this point, he didn't care. He only wanted Aree to
know that this act had pleased him so char the treeling
might be encouraged to do it again. Aree's eyes brightened

109

when he heard the purr and he ambled over to Thakur
on three legs, still holding the stick. The coals had faded
to ash.

"Aree?" the treeling said, as if still unsure of whether
he had done anything worthy of praise. With licks and
nuzzles, Thakur assured his companion that he was very
pleased indeed. He made such a fuss over Aree that the
treeling rossed his branch aside and rubbed himself against
him, curling and uncurling his tail with delight. When
some of Aree's exuberance had worn off, Thakur retrieved
the stick and offered it to the treeling.

Aree quickly discovered that accepting the stick earned
him more licks and nuzzles. For a while, Thakur played
a simple game with his companion, passing the charred
branch back and forth between them: from teeth to paws
and then back again. When Aree began to tire of that,
Thakur decided he was ready to try a simple rest to see if
the treeling would repeat his previous action.

He took the stick and placed it on the fire, in the same
position it had originally been in. He moved slowly, let-
ting Aree follow everything he did. When the stick was
in place, he picked it up in his jaws, took it out and re-
placed it carefully. He did this several times as Aree
watched. Once he was sure the treeling understood, he
put the stick back in the fire again, but instead of grasping
it with his teeth, he used his pawpad-

The wood only rolled under his clumsy swipes. With
an impatient chirp, the treeling reached underneath
Thakur's foreleg, seized the stick and pulled it out. With
a gesture almost like a nourish, Aree presented him with
the stick as if to say, "This isn't so hard if you have paws
like mine. See?"

Thakur licked the treeling until he was damp and

110

rubbed against him until Acee's coat was thoroughly
rumpled. The creature's ability had surpassed his hopes.
The treeling had grown large and strong enough to
handle all but the heaviest branches. Thakur knew that
with enough time and patience, Aree could be trained to
handle the Red Tongue with greater safety and skill than
the best Firekeeper among the Named.

Thakur felt the sun's warmth on his back and realized
the mist had burned off. Soon the mothers would be
bringing their cubs to the first training session for young
herders. Quickly he nosed Aree onto his back and scuffed
dire on the remains of the Red Tongue. He still had to get
the teaching herd ready before the cubs arrived.

He kicked a last spray of dirt on the embers and gal-
loped away. Tomorrow he wouldn't be angry if Aree woke
him up early. In fact, he would be the one to wake the
treeling. He would probably be able to talk Bira into let-
ting him have the fire again and then he would see what
else Aree could do.

Once Aree's training had begun, Thakur was eager to
continue. He thought that, after the first surge of en-
thusiasm, the treeling might become balky and unwilling
to brave the morning chill, but that never happened. Per-
haps Aree had caught the sense of forbidden adventure
that Thakur felt each time he left the den in the half-
light before dawn.

Aree learned rapidly and was soon responding cor-
rectly to Thakur's directions. He found that the sharp
sound he made by clicking his teeth together would com-
mand the treeling's attention faster than would spoken
words.

Soon Aree could extract a branch from the fire and walk
around on three legs, holding the lighted torch. Once or

111

twice the treeling tried to transfer the branch from his
hands to his prehensile tail, but Thakur quickly discour-
aged that- Aree tended to pay less attention to things he
held with his tail than what was in his hands. Once he
had nearly scorched his back by letting the torch droop.

Thakur took great care to be sure that Aree didn't burn
or injure himself during the lessons. He didn't want to
wake the fear of the Red Tongue that seemed to lie deep
in every creature. The treeling sensed that the fire-creature
could hurt if it got too close and Thakur reinforced
Aree's caution with further training.

By early summer, the treeling could ignite a pile of
rinder with a torch taken from the guard-fire. That
morning Thakur was elated and praised the treeling end-
lessly. He caught grasshoppers for Aree until the treeling
was stuffed and nuzzled his paws, whose dexterity seemed
amazing in comparison to Thakur's clumsy forefeet.

He remembered what Ratha had said to him while Aree
was cleaning her fur. "He grooms me the way you would
if you had his clever paws." She had only been half-
awake when she spoke those words and hadn't really
known what they meant. He hadn't either, but now her
words brought a half-seen vision of the possibilities of his
partnership with the treeling. He stared at Aree as if he
had never seen the creature before. A strange feeling
prickled up his back from the root of his taiL He suddenly
felt afraid, but it wasn't the kind of fear he knew when
facing an enemy, even one unknown. It was a fear closer
to the one he got when he looked up into the night sky
with its burning stars and felt awe and a strange undefined
hunger. It was this hunger, rising from somewhere deep
within him, that frightened him.

He gazed down at the treeling, who was crouching

112

between his forepaws, looking up at him with inquisitive
eyes. 'Teaching you to care for the Red Tongue is only
the beginning," he said softly, and he listened to himself
as if someone else was speaking. 'There is much more we
can do together."

He watched the black paws deftly combing the fur on
the treeling's tail and sensed the beginning of a freedom
he never knew be had been denied. Ratha was right. The
skill of those fingers had started to become his own and
it was a gift with far more power than he ever expected.

The sun was hot on his back and the sound of cubs
squabbling and chasing each other far down the meadow
reminded him that he had students to teach. Quickly he
quenched the guttering fire and buried the ashes.

The teaching session with the young cubs began and
ended late. It was almost dusk when the mothers came to
take their litterlings back to their dens. Thakur stayed to
care for his small teaching nock until another herder
arrived-

"Could you keep my animals separated from the rest?"
Thakur asked Cherfan. "It would save me from having
to retrieve them from the main herd tomorrow morning."
Absently the big berder agreed, but his attention was on
something else. A new fire nickered across the pasture
near the sunning rock.

Cherfan stared and wrinkled his forehead. "Looks like
the Firekeepers are having a gathering," he said finally
"Oh, don't worry about your teaching herd. I'll make sure
your animals are grazed apart from the others."

Thakur felt annoyed with the Firekeepers. He often
liked to climb onto the sunning rock at dusk to catch the
last warmth of the sun and watch the moon rise from
behind the trees. Well, he would have to find another

113

place tonight, or go and rest in his den. Despite his irri-
tation he was curious about the gathering and decided to
wander over and investigate.

The fire was large and cast its light far into the twi-
light spreading across the meadow. Smoke poured over
the grass and billowed up into the sky. On his back, Aree
sneezed and shook his head. Thakur's throat srung as he
circled upwind, away from the smoke haze. The Fire-
keepers have built a fire far bigger than they need, he
thought crossly.

As he approached, he saw someone pacing back and
forth in front of the bonfire, while others sat in a group
racing it. Thakur swung back downwind, willing to brave
the acrid smoke in order to carch the smells of those as-
sembled in the gathering. He recognized most of the
adult Firekeepers, including Fessran, Shongshar and Bira.
He also caught the odors of some of the cubs. By now,
he knew most of their individual scents. Thakur was not
surprised to smell Fessran's cubs, Chika and Nyang, among
others, but he was surprised that her son Khushi's scent
was among them.

Khushi was to be trained as a herder, he thought. The
cub had been among the students he taught earlier in the
day, although Shongshar had come and fetched him early,
saying that Fessran needed him. Thakur was sure it had
not been Khushi's own idea to come to the Firekeeper's
gathering. He did not smell happy.

The herding teacher caught another scent, so mixed
with smoke that it only hinted at who it belonged to. Was
Rarha here? Thakur wasn't sure. The darkness, which
had now fallen, and the fire's glare made it hard to recog-
nize anyone by sight. Smoke filled his throat again, mak-
ing him cough, but the roar of the fire overwhelmed any

114

sound he made. Carefully he made his way to the back
of the group and sat close enough to see who was Stand-
ing in front of the bonfire.

It was Fessran and she had stopped pacing. She faced
the group and sat down. Shongshar sat off to the side,
with Fessran's three cubs. He was watching her intently
as she began to speak.

"My first words are for the young ones who seek train-
ing as Firekeepers. You are at this gathering tonight be-
cause you are the best. You have been chosen to come
here because you are the strongest and the cleverest of the
cubs born in the spring season. You are here because we
who serve the Red Tongue will not accept anything less."

Aree moved restlessly on Thakur's shoulder. Thakur
gave him a nudge to quiet him, and then crept further
into the gathering, trying to see the faces of those listen-
ing. The Firekeepers sat straight, with bristling whiskers
and self-satisfied expressions. Most of the cubs looked
awed and excited, their eyes glowing in the fireljight.
Khushi, sitting between his two siblings. lowered his
head and nervously licked a front paw.

"You look at the Red Tongue and it frightens you,"
Fessran continued. **Why? Because it is stronger than you
are and fiercer and wilder? Yes! It is a creature far
greater than any of us. It can live forever if it is kept fed
and it can grow larger than any animaL The fire-creature
takes, as its prey, not only the beasts of the forest, but the
forest itself, and, when it is angered, nothing between
ground and sky escapes its rage."

Fessran's eyes seemed to have a glint to them that was
not her own yellow-amber, but a deeper shade ... almost
orange. Something made Thakur look off to the side at
Shongshar. He was leaning forward over the cubs, his

115

gaze intent, his eyes narrowed. His Jaw moved as if he
were speaking the same words to himself and the fire's
glare flashed on his sabers.

Fessran continued, "We may warm ourselves before
the Red Tongue and see by its light, but we may do so
only as long as we are worthy. And how may we prove
our worth? By striving to be as strong and fierce as we
can. By thinking not of our paws or our whiskers, but of
our duty to the Red Tongue. By refusing to show fear
even when it claws at our throats and our bellies. That is
what the Red Tongue demands of us."

Fessran paused and surveyed the group. Khushi looked
more miserable than ever. "Not all of you will be chosen
to train as Firekeepers," she said. "I must know which of
you are worthy." Her tail twitched restlessly as she curled
it over her feet. "Those cubs who think they are brave
enough to carry the Red Tongue, come and stand before
me."

Some youngsters strutted forward, their tails high and
their whiskers bristling with confidence. Others, like
Khushi, crept forward nervously, unwilling to be shamed
by their lirrermates. They arranged themselves in an un-
even row in front of Fessran. The harsh light of the bon-
fire made them squint and blink. She paced before the
cubs, studying each one in turn.

"Good," she said finally and looked toward Shongshar.
"Bring me a torch," she commanded. He lit a dry branch
and brought it to her. The cubs' eyes widened and they
sat still, their gaze fixed on the Firekeeper.

Thakur tensed. What was Fessran doing?

The Firekeeper swung around, the torch clenched in
her jaws. The flame fluttered and roared as she swept it
across in front of the cubs' faces.

116

Several youngsters squealed in terror and fled with
their tails between their legs. Others, like Chika, skittered
away, turned and faced the flame with ears laid back. A
few cubs flinched and crouched, holding their ground. The
fur rose along their backs and bristled on their short tails.

Fessran also looked startled, as if she hadn't expected
so many of them to flee. Thakur saw her glance toward
Shongshar as if seeking reassurance- Again she passed the
torch in front of the remaining youngsters, trying to rout
them. All but Nyang backed away, hissing.

It was all Thakur could do not to jump into the midst
of the gathering and snatch the brand away from Fessran.
He only held back by telling himself that she must have
a reason for this, however harsh and cruel it seemed.

She gave the brand back to Shongshar, who replaced it
in the fire. "So," she said, looking out over the Firekeepers
and the shaken cubs, "You see that being chosen to serve
the Red Tongue isn't as easy as you thought. Those of you
who stayed within the gathering circle have shown you
can fight the fear. Return to your places."

"Firekeeper leader," said one cub in a high quavering
voice. "The ones who ran away haven't come back yet.
Someone should look for them."

Fessran turned to Bira. "Find the litterlings who fled
and take them back to their mothers. None of them are
worth training."

Bira left. Thakur felt disbelief hit him and drain
through him. He had disciplined cubs himself and treated
them harshly, but never had he seen youngsters so de-
liberately terrified and humiliated. Did it matter to Fess-
ran that her son Khushi had been among those who fled?

He looked again at the cubs who remained in the gath-
ering and saw the fright and rage on their faces turn into

117

fierce determination. Perhaps this was Fessran's way of
inspiring them, by making them angry enough to fight
back and demonstrate that they were worthy to become
Firekeepers. Even so, her tactics seemed cruel and
unnecessary.

Then he realized that some of the crowd had noticed
his presence and other heads were starting to turn. Hast-
ily he ducked down and backed out from among them.
He flattened in the grass in the darkness, suddenly aware
of his racing heartbeat. Fessran had begun to speak again,
distracting attention from him. Quickly he wriggled away
on his belly until he was far enough from them to run-
As he paused and his eyes grew accustomed to the night
again, he saw a form flee from behind the sunning rock.

The figure was slender and lithe, with a long tail. It
was gone before Thakur was sure that he had seen it.
"Ratha?" he muttered to himself in the darkness, but he
wasn't sure. His first impulse was to follow, but the smoky
haze that now filled the air made it impossible to track
by scent. He decided it would be best to return to his den
to rest and think.

On the way to his lair, he visited Ratha's on the chance
she might be there. He found it empty. Feeling uneasy, he
sought his own den and the refuge of sleep.

118

CHAPTER

11




THE NIGHT WINDS had blown away the smoky
haze and the morning was dear. Ratha lay atop
the sunning rock and watched the dawn. She thought
about the previous evening and the Firekeepers' gather-
ing. Her ears swiveled back and the rip of her tail twitched
as she remembered what Pessran had done co the cubs.

There was no need to frighten them like that, she
thought, nor to build such a large fvre. A smaller one
would have kept everyone warm. Her tailrip twitched
again. But warmth wasn't what Fessran wanted from the
Red Tongue last night, she reminded herself.

Ratha hadn't really meant to hide and watch in secret
She had been late and by the time she arrived, the flames
of the gathering fire were leaping into the night sky. The
Red Tongue's roar concealed her footsteps and its acrid
smoke hid her smell. She could hear Fessran speaking,
however, and the Pirekeeper's words weren't what she
expected to hear. The mood of the group was unusually
grim and tense, as if they were readying themselves to
fight some enemy instead of welcoming the youngsters
who were to be trained as Firekeepers. Even the small cute
had serious expressions on their faces, although a few Jusc
looked miserable.

She had stopped her approach, sensing that her presence
would disrupt what was happening. For a while, she

119

stood still, listening, torn between her wish to approach
openly and her need to know more about this gathering.
At last, with a pang of regret for her choice, she circled
downwind, through the billowing smoke, and found a
place behind the sunning rock where she could watch and
listen without being noticed.

The sunning rock. She had been there last night and
she was here again. If she leaned over the edge and looked
down, she knew she would see her own pugmarks in the
dirt where she had crouched beside the base of the stone.
If she looked the other way, she would see the freshly
turned soil mixed with ash where the Firekeepers had
buried the remains of the bonfire. This morning, she had
squacted there and watered the place before climbing onto
the sunning rock, raking some satisfaction in that small act
of possession. She turned her back on the site, preferring
to look out over the pasture to where die dapplebacks and
three-horns grazed, with the herders tending them.

One thought remained in her mind, however, and it
kept irritating her like a bone splinter between her teeth.
The harshness of the Firekeepers' test had startled her.
Although she knew it was necessary to eliminate timid
cubs from those who were to be trained, Ratha found
herself disliking Fessran's method. The idea was so un-
characteristic of her friend that she wondered if someone
else, such as Shongshar, had suggested it.

"Ftahh!" Ratha spat, disgusted with herself. "You know
better than that. If anyone has her own ideas about things,
Fessran does." Yet, as she thought about the Firekeeper
leader, she felt uneasy. Fessran had been a Staunch friend
and her only ally when she had first taken the Red Tongue
before the clan. She had rewarded her by giving her the
keeping of this new and awesome creature. It was an

120

honor, but it was also a burden, and Ratha had hesitated
before she placed it on her friend.

Often Ratha had watched a fly land on the fresh meat
of a kill, knowing that one small insect could lay enough
eggs to fill the carcass with maggots and taint the meat.
Last night she had admitted to herself that the Red
Tongue had its own taint, and she was beginning to dunk
that even the stubborn herder who had been made Fire-
keeper leader was not immune to it.

As she lay there with her thoughts, she heard a rustle
in the grass. She pulled her feet underneath her, crouched
and faced out in the direction of the sound. Soon she saw
Thakur trotting toward the sunning rock with his treeling
on his back. He didn't look up and he kept his steady pace,
as if he meant to pass by on his way to the meadow's far
side.

As he drew near, he swung away from his path and
made a small detour that took him near the buried ashes
of the bonfire. Again, Ratha could tell that he meant only
to glance at the site and trot on, but suddenly he stopped,
sniffed and wrinkled his nose. He paced across the ash-
fiecked soil until he smelled her mark, where she had
watered the buried ashes. He grimaced and looked up at
the sunning rock.

She felt uncomfortable at having given in to that
earlier impulse. Now she had told Thakur, in a way that
no words could, how she felt about the Firekeepers' gather-
ing.

"So you were there and you didn't like it either," he
said at last.

Ether? Ratha narrowed her eyes at him. She flicked
her tail, indicating that he should jump up beside her.

121

When he was there and seeded, she said, "I see I wasn't
the only one who hid and watched."

"I didn't think a herder would be welcome in that
group, and I was right," Thakur answered. "You, clan
leader?"

"I might have been welcomed, but my presence would
have made Fessran think again about frightening those
cubs the way she did."

She could see that Thakur's next words were chosen
carefully. In a quiet voice, he said, "You can forbid an-
other gathering like that."

She stared at him in disbelief. "Forbid it? Just because
Fessran built the fire too large and scared some of the
cubs? They were too young for such a thing anyway."

"Ratha, I know you well enough to tell how you feel
about something. Your words may not tell me, but your
mark on those buried ashes does."

"Air," she said, feeling foolish. "I was in a bad mood
when I did that."

"And Fessran had nothing to do with your bad mood?"

"All right,'* Ratha snapped. "She did. But let me tell
you this: I may not like how she does things, but what
she does works. She told me to make Shongshar a Fire-
keeper and she was right. We are no longer losing guard-
fires because the Firekeepers are too timid. The herdbeasts
are safer than they have ever been. That is what is im-
portant to me. Fessran has done well and I am not going
to interfere with her, so you can dig a hole and bury that
idea."

She thought Thakur would lose patience with her, but
he only twitched his ears back and then let them come
forward again. His eyes held suppressed excitement, as if

122

he had something to tell her but hadn't found the oppor-
tunity undl now. "Suppose I were to show you another
way to master die Red Tongue, a way that doesn't require
that cubs have their whiskers singed in order to prove
themselves."

She looked at Thakur as he sat there with the (reeling
on his back. Aree added his gaze to Thakur's and the
combination of the two stares made her feel uncomfort-
able.

"You haven't found such a way... or have you?"

"Just follow me, clan leader," he said and jumped down
from the sunning cock.

Ratha didn't catch up with him until he was halfway to
the farthest guard-fire. She heard him mutter, "Good. Bira
hasn't given up on me yet," and he sprinted ahead, leaving
her behind once again.

By the rime she arrived, he was speaking with Bira.
The young Firekeeper gave a start when she saw Ratha
and looked back at Thakur as if asking for reassurance.

"You can go," he said. "Don't worry. It's all right."

Ratha watched the yawning Firekeeper troc away, her
tail swinging. She noticed that Bira had left Thakur plenty
of wood, although the guard-fire was starting to bum low.
The wood was in two piles: a large one, carelessly stacked,
and a small one that looked like kindling laid for a new
fire.

"She shouldn't leave without kicking dirt on the guard-
fire and burying the ashes," Ratha said, with a disapprov-
ing glance after Bira.

"She knows her duty. I asked her to leave the fire for
me. She does that for me every morning. Fessran doesn't
know," he added.

"Hmph." Ratha growled. 'You should have asked her."

123

Thakur ignored her. "All right, Aree," he said to his
treeling, "let's show Ratha what you've been learning."

She heard several clicking sounds and had no idea where
they had come from until she saw Thakur's jaw move
slightly. Aree hopped down from the herding teacher's
shoulder and bounded over to the large woodpile. He
selected a slender branch that he could hold in one paw
and returned to Thakur.

He gave Ratha a grin. She glowered back at him, un-
impressed. "All right. He can get wood. That will save
the Firekeepers some work."

Thakur clicked his teeth again and gave a soft hiss.
Aree held up the branch and curled his ringed tail as if
asking a question. The herding teacher snapped his Jaws
together again and Aree, to Ratha's horror and amaze-
ment, scampered directly toward the fire.

Her legs acted as fast as her mind did. She was halfway
to the treeling when she was suddenly flattened by some-
one pouncing on top of her. Only the knowledge that it
was Thakur kept her from flipping onto her back and
raking his belly, and even so she was tempted.

She tried to get up again, but he held her down. He
was looking not at her, but at the treeling. "Go on, Aree.
It's all right. She didn't mean to frighten you."

"What are you trying to do? Make Aree jump into the
Red Tongue?" she hissed.

"No. "Watch," said Thakur's voice in her ear. When she
Stayed still, he got off her and stood alongside.

Aree approached the fire carefully and laid the stick
among the coals. When the branch caught, the treeling
pulled it out and held it up with the Red Tongue blossom-
ing at the end. Gripping the branch with both paws, Aree
shuffled over to Thakur and placed it between his open

124

jaws. Gently Thakur dosed his mouth, being careful of
the little fingers near his teeth.

Ratha watched in amazement. It was not so much the
act itself that drew her attention but the ease with which
Aree performed it. It was evident to her at once that the
treeling's paws were much better suited to this task than
the clumsy Jowls of even the bravest Firekeeper.

Thakur growled deep in his throat and opened his jaws.
Aree took the lighted brand and placed it back in the fire.
Ratha began to get up.

"Wait. He's not finished yet," said Thakur. Again he
clicked his teeth and again Aree scampered away to the
woodpile. This time the treeling came bounding back on
all fours, his ringed tail wound around another sdck. He
looked up and cocked his head at Thakur with solemn
black eyes on each side of his banded muzzle.

"All right, you can do it that way if you want," said
Thakur good-naturedly, as if the treeling understood him.
He clicked his teeth and made the same hiss as Ratha had
heard before. The treeling went to die fire, took the sock
from his tail into its paws, and lit the end as he had done
before. He held up the small torch to Thakur. The herding
teacher left his place and sat beside the pile of kindling.

The treeling inclined his head at him again. "Come on.
Aree. I showed you how to do it," he said, leaning forward
to coax his companion. After some hesitation, Aree held
the torch firmly and shufBed to the pile of kindling. He
seemed a little confused about what to do next and Thakur
bent down, nudging the treeling's elbow with his nose.

Aree crouched in front of me kindling and poked the
lighted brand between carefully laid sacks. The treeling
took care not to disturb the arrangement and soon a second
small fire was crackling happily beside the first.

125

Thakur made a purring sound. Aree's eyes brightened
and he dashed over to his teacher to receive a reward of
licks and nuzzles. He scrambled up Thakur's back and
perched there happily, winding his long ringed tail around
Thakur's neck.

Ratha's jaw hung open until the wind began to dry her
tongue. At last she recovered her voice. "How did you
teach him to do that?" she asked.

"The same way I have always taught the cubs herding.
When they do something right, I praise them. When they
don't, I correct them, and when they are confused, I show
them what to do by doing it myself. Aree was already
curious about the Red Tongue and I encouraged him."

"And you were careful to make sure he didn't hurt
himself. Even so, I didn't know treelings could be so
clever. You know that most of the Firekeepers can't light
a pile of kindling without knocking it flat. The Red
Tongue dies and then they have to set the wood up all over
again."

Thakur began kicking dirt on the guard-fire and Ratha
helped him bury the ashes. The second fire they knocked
apart with their paws and scattered the smoking tinder.

"Well, clan leader?" he asked when they were done.

"Yes!" Ratha said eagerly. "Keep training him. I'll tell
Fessran to make you a nest for the fire-creature near your
den."

She thought that would please him, but instead a
shadow passed across his face, darkening his green eyes.
"I'd rather use Bira's guard-fire," he said.

"You don't want to show Fessran what Aree can do?"

"No. Not yet," Thakur said and quickly added, "Aree
needs more teaching. You saw how I had to help him. He
should be able to do it all himself."

126

She suspected that he had another reason for wishing co
delay, but she dedded not to press him. Soon he left to
teach his herding pupils and she went lack to the sunning
rock, feeling more at ease than she had all morning.

Rarha didn't see Thakur again for several days, letting
him have time to work with the (reeling. She knew that
the Firekeepers were planning another gathering and
Pessran might repeat what she had done at the previous

one.

She made sure she was atop the sunning rock early the
next day when Thakur came trotting by with Aree on his
back. This time she jumped down and went to him.

"Herding teacher, the Firekeepers are having another
gathering soon. I want Fessran to see your treeling before
she speaks to the cubs."

She could sense his reluctance, but he finally answered,
'*Yes, you're right. We should try it. Perhaps I'm wrong
about her."

Ratha wanted to ask more questions, but Thakur looked
slightly impatient and Aree began to scratch himself.

"Meet me here tomorrow, after your herding pupils ace
gone," she called after him. "I'll bring Fessran and we'll
have the fire ready."

He waved his tail in answer, but the look on his face
told her he didn't chink they would have much success.

Arrr, he's just being cautious as he often is, she told
herself. / think Pessran will be pleased with Aree.

The Firekeeper leader arrived in me late afternoon.
She brought some others with her, including Shongshar
and her eldest son Nyang. Fessran was eager to learn what
Ratha had co show them, but even her insistent questions

127

couldn't pry Racha's secret loose. After the Firekeepers had
built the Red Tongue's nest and set the tinder alight, she
told them to sit and wait until Thakur came.

At last he padded into the long shadow of the sunning
rock, tired, dusty and smelling strongly of herdbeasts.
Some of the Firekeepers eyed the treeling and drew back
their whiskers. It was not a promising start.

Despite the bad beginning, Raiha grew more hopeful
as the demonstration progressed. She could see that the
additional days of training had been well used. Aree per-
formed better than he had when she'd seen him the first
time. She could tell that the Firekeepers were impressed,
but she also sensed hostility, as if they resented the tree-
ling's skill.

Shongshar sat next to Fessran, muttering things in her
ear. Each time he spoke to her, the interested expression
that had been on her face when Thakur began to show
Aree's skills faded a little more, until her expression was
as wooden as the others'.

Ratha knew Thakur had anticipated this. He gave her
a meaningful glance as he set Aree to laying out kindling
for another fire. This task was not something she had seen
before and she watched in fascination as the little paws
placed each stick carefully against the others, making a
perfect nest for the Red Tongue. Not once did the treeling
drop a stick or knock the pile over. With Thakur's careful
guidance, Aree took a torch from the original fire and lit
the new pile.

The Firekeepers' eyes widened despite themselves. Even
Shongshar looked impressed, although Ratha was sure he
didn't want to be.

Perhaps Aree also felt the challenge from the Fire-
keepers, for the next thing the treeling did was un-

128

expected. Seizing a sack small enough to carry in one
paw, Aree plunged one end in the fire, drew it out and
galloped around the Firekeepers on three legs, carrying
the Red Tongue. Thakur's whiskers drooped in dismay
and he chased after the treeling. That was exactly what
Aree wanted. He scampered toward Thakur, leaped up
on his back and rode him with the firebrand lifted high in
both paws.

As soon as Thakur stopped, Aree bounced down from
his back, tossed the firebrand back into the flames and
swaggered back, his tail curled high, expecting the usual
reward of licks and nuzzles. Ratha could see that Thakur
had no choice but to praise the creature. The treeling's
antics were not what he had planned, but they were equally
astonishing. The Firekeepers' jaws hung open in amaze-
ment.

Shongshar, not Fessran, was the first to speak. "Your
treeling is skilled, herding teacher," he said, studying
Aree closely. The treeling fluffed his fur at him and
wound his tail tighter around Thakur's neck. "Did you
spend much time teaching him?" Shongshar asked.

"Yes, I did. Aree is clever and learns fast, but he took
a lot of work."

"Why did you choose to teach a treeling instead of
teaching clubs?"

Ratha saw Thakur hesitate. "I teach cubs herding. I
am not a Firekeeper," he said. "I taught Aree because he
has a spedal ability that the cubs do not have. His paws
are different from ours: they are made to grasp the limbs
of trees as he climbs. He is not as clumsy as the cubs. He
doesn't knock things over."

"The cubs understand what they do when they serve

129

the Red Tongue," said Shongshar softly. "Does your tree-
ling?"

"No," Thakur admitted. "He understands only the
actions necessary to care for it."

"He does not share the feelings that we have for the
fire-creature. He does not know its strength and its power."

"No," the herding teacher replied, his green eyes glow-
ing angrily. "How can you expect a treeling to understand
such things? There is no need for him to understand. He
just does what you cell him."

"Then he is an animal, like the dapplebacks and three-
horns," said Shongshar with a hiss in his voice and a gold
glitter in his eyes. "He is witless, like my cubs that you
and Ratha took from clan ground. Is an animal to serve
the Red Tongue?"

Ratha felt her own eyes narrow and her nape rise.
"Enough, Shongshar! It is Fessran I would hear, not you."

The Firekeeper leader lifted her chin and eyed Ratha
coolly. "Clan leader, I share many of Shongshar's feelings.
You know better than I how fiercely we fought for the
Red Tongue in the days when Meoran ruled the Named."

"Yes, you ran with me then and your feelings were your
own," growled Ratha. She regretted her words as they left
her tongue, for Fessran flinched visibly and her amber eyes
took on some of the same hard glitter as Shongshar's-

"The treeling's skill is impressive," she said. "How-
ever, I do have some questions. You have only one tree-
ling and there are many Firekeepers. Do you intend to
catch more treelings and train them in the same way?"

Thakur looked at Ratha. "I hadn't thought about that.
I got Aree by accident. He was injured when I found him.
It may be difficult to catch others."

130

"If we accepted Aree and let him do the difficult casks
for us, we would no longer try to do them for ourselves,"
Fessran pointed out. "What would happen then if the
treeling were co run away or get killed?"

Thakur had come to sit beside Ratha and she felt him
tense at Fessran's words. "I don't think Aree is going to
run away and I am certainly not going to let anyone kill
him." He glared back at the Firekeepers.

Ratha decided it was time to interrupt. "There will be
no talk of killing," she snapped. "Thakur has offered to
share his treeling's ability and you should be grateful."

"Clan leader, we did not mean to offend either you or
Thakur," said Fessran. "We think that the treeling's skill
is valuable, but there are some problems. After all, Thakur
did not know what the creature would do when he snatched
up a torch and began running around us. I think you
would agree that more training is needed before the tree-
ling can really be crusted."

Ratha tried to control her temper. Fessran might be
irritating, bur she had made some points. Aree's last dis-
play showed that the treeling was sdll unpredictable, and
there remained the problem that there was only one of
the creatures. Nonetheless, Ratha was pleased with Thakur
for trying to jolt the Firekeepers out of their complacency.

"All right," she said at last "Thakur, you are to con-
dnue teaching Aree. To make things easier for you,
Fessran will assign a Pirekeeper to build and tend a fire
near your den. Do you boch agree?"

Fessran glanced ac Shongshar and looked uncomfort-
able. "Is there anyone you would like?" she asked Thakur.

"If you could spare Bira, I wouldn't mind working with
her," Thakur answered.

He stayed beside Ratha as the Firekeepers put out their

131

fire and left. He smoothed his ruffled fur with short angry
strokes of his tongue.

"Fessran will let you have Bira," Ratha said as the
dusk closed around them.

"She may. I wonder what else she'll do."

Ratha looked at him sharply, but he was only an out-
line and two eyes in the growing darkness. "She will do as
I tell her as long as I am clan leader."

He sighed. "I wish you hadn't put it that way," he said
softly and padded away with his treelmg on his back.

During the next few mornings Ratha visited Thakur at
his den to be sure Fessran was doing what had been
promised. Each time she went, she found Bira there along
with a well-made little fire and a stack of wood that was
always kept full. The young Firekeeper seemed to enjoy
watching Thakur teach Aree. Ratha watched her carefully
for signs of the same hostility that other Firekeepers had
shown, but there were none.

Aree's instruction was progressing well. The treeling
seemed to understand that capricious actions, such as those
he had performed in front of the Firekeepers, were not
acceptable and would result in a scolding. Thakur re-
ported that Aree had become more obedient, and she
could see for herself that the herding teacher had man-
aged to accomplish this without breaking the creature's
spirit. Every once in a while Aree looked at Thakur with
a mischievous glint in his eyes, but the treeling took his
task seriously and never deliberately disobeyed.

Ratha watched and felt encouraged. Soon Thakur would
be able to show Aree to the Firekeepers again, and they
would be unable to find any fault with the treeling's per-
formance. Perhaps she and Thakur could also devise a way

132

to capture more treelings. Aree might be able to lure
another one down from the branches. If the captured
treeliog was a female, she might bear young. Or Thakur
might climb one of the fruit trees with Aree and look for
a (reeling nest that might shelter young ones. If they could
find and train more of the creatures, Fessran might be
willing to accept the idea.

She made her plans carefully as she rested in her den
or lay atop the sunning rock. Each morning she asked
Thakur whether Aree was ready. The last time, instead of
saying no, he had told her to assemble the entire clan on
the following day. This was something for everyone to
see. he said. Not Just Firekeepers.

On the evening before the assembly was to take place,
Ratha visited him to be sure he was prepared. She came
just before sunset and was only halfway to his den when
she heard someone running toward her on the path.
Thakur galloped up to her, his whiskers trembling and
his fur on end.

"Aree's gone, Ratha!" he gasped.

Disbelief shot through her. "What? He can't be. You
never leave him alone."

"I did. Just for a little while. I left him curled up in my
den. I had to get some wood; Bira let the woodpile get
low. Thornwood is best, but I can't get into a thicket with
Aree on my back, so I left him."

"How long ago?" She began to pace beside him.

"I had just come back from teaching my herding pupils.
I left Aree in my den, went to get wood, and when I
came back I couldn't find him. I looked everywhere," he
added mournfully.

"Did you try to track him?"

133

"Yes, but there was such a smoky smell in the air that
I couldn't follow his scent."

They reached his den. Ratha trotted over to the ashy
bed where the teaching fire usually burned. She lifted her
nose and sniffed. Thakur certainly was right: the air was
too acrid to detect the treeling's scent. Carefully she
pawed the dirt and cinders. If the fire had been burning
recently, they would still be hot. They weren't.

Then why did the whole place smell like someone had
been throwing ashes around, she wondered.

"Where's Bira?" she asked, suddenly.

"She's not here. She only helps me in the mornings. I
thought I'd build a fire myself and then get a Firekeeper
to light it."

Ratha glanced up at the few trees that stood about the
den. Their branches were outlined against the red and gray
sunset, but she saw nothing on them that looked like the
hunched form of a (reeling. She helped Thakur look
through the bushes, but neither one of them found any-
thing.

The wind had begun to stir, blowing away the acrid
smell in the air, but Aree's scent had faded too. The tree-
ling was gone and there was nothing either one of them
could do about it.

Thakur crawled into his den and laid his head on his
paws. "It's my fault," he moaned. "I shouldn't have left
him alone. Aree, wherever you are, please come back. I
miss you."

"Thakur," Ratha said softly, "I have to go and tell
everyone that the gathering won't happen tomorrow."

'Tell the mothers they can keep their cubs for the
day," Thakur growled. "I don't feel like teaching. I may

134

be doing some other things, such as asking a lot of ques-
tions. Maybe I should start now." He raised himself up
and started to crawl out of the den, but Ratha put a paw
on his back.

"No," she said. "You stay here. If there are any ques-
tions to ask, I will ask them and I will bring you the
answers."

"I suppose you can get better ones than I can." Thakur
laid his head on his paws again.

His dejection and the misery in his voice made Ratha
hot with indignant anger. Whoever had taken the treeling
or driven it away had done more than deprive Thakur of
a companion. They had stolen his hope and wounded him
badly.

She licked him gently on the forehead, trying to com-
fort him in his grief and anger. At last he fell into a
troubled sleep and she left, resolving that she would either
find Aree or have her revenge on whoever had stolen die
treeling.

CHAPTER

12




^Sw THE PACE of the sunning rock was lit with
<^3^ orange as Ratha emerged into the night meadow.
Against it, she could see the forms of the assembled Fire-
keepers, and in front of it, someone paced back and forth.
Ratha could hear the drone of a voice mixed in with the
hiss and roar of the bonfire.

135

Irritation stung her and quickly turned to anger. The
Firekeepers were meeting again without her permission
and without her knowledge. Again they had built the
nest for their overfed fire right at the base of her sunning
rock.

Too angry to feel unwelcome, Ratha galloped across
the meadow and pushed her way through the gathered
torchbearers undl she faced the firelit form in front. She
felt the warning touch of fear when she realized that it
was Shongshar, not Fessran.

She looked for the Firekeeper leader and found her
sitting off to the side. Her eyes were narrowed and cold,
but suddenly they opened and a false welcoming expres-
sion forced itself onto Fessran's face. That look on the face
of one who had been a friend made Ratha's belly twist
and she looked away.

She turned instead toward the others and saw Bira sit-
ting behind Khushi, crouching as if she wanted to hide.
Nyang was in front of the crowd, gazing at Shongshar
with a rapt expression and adoration glowing in his eyes.
Someone else also sat in front, someone she had not
expected to see.

The herder Shoman turned and stared at her, his eyes
filled with uncertainty. Slowly he lowered his head and
began to lick his foreleg. The motion drew Ratha's gaze
to his leg. She saw an ugly red screak that oozed and
glistened in the orange light.

"Clan leader." Fessran rose to break the tension that
Ratha's arrival had brought "I am glad you have come. I
was going to send Nyang to fetch you."

Ratha ignored her. "Why is Shoman here? What hap-
pened to his leg?"

"Ask him," said Shongshar and loolced toward Shoman.

136

The herder answered, "I . . ..was warming myself by
the borders' fire. There were no Firekeepers there. I tried
to give the Red Tongue more wood, but it grew angry
and hurt me."

"You have done wrong, Shoman," said Fessran severely.
"Only the Firekeepers may tend the Red Tongue. You
should have gone and fetched one of us."

"Why is he here?" Ratha demanded. "If he has done
wrong, let Cherfan punish him since he is a herder, not a
Firekeeper."

"He has come to make amends," answered Fessran. "He
agreed to come and show the cubs what can happen if the
fire-creature is angered by carelessness."

Ratha looked again at Shoman. He crouched, huddled,
nursing his leg and grimacing in pain. His glance was
furtive and resentful. Fear flitted across his face as he
caught Shongshar's gaze; she knew he hadn't come here
by choice.

"All right!" she cried, suddenly sickened. "The cubs
have seen enough. Shoman, go to Thakur and have your
wound tended."

Shoman slunk off into the darkness, limping. The look
he gave Ratha was still heavy with resentment, but there
was a strange tinge of relief in his eyes.

"We are glad you have come, dan leader," said Fess-
ran. "You have seen with your own eyes the danger the
Red Tongue presents to herders, who are not trained to
care for it properly."

Ratha waited, trying not to twitch her taiL Fessran
eyed her and continued, "As leader of the Firekeepers, I
am asking you to forbid anyone to approach the Red
Tongue unless one of us gives permission. This would

157

prevent any of the herders from injuring themselves as
Shoman did."

"I am glad you are concerned about those who provide
meat for the clan," she answered, letting a little sarcasm
creep inco her voice. "However, I don't think the herders
would like it if they had to ask a Firekeeper for permission
to warm themselves or see by the Red Tongue's light."

"Cubs do not like being forbidden to do dangerous
things, but we must restrict them to keep them safe. Those
who do not understand the fire-creature's ways should not
meddle with it," said Fessran.

Ratha gathered her temper as she faced the Firekeeper
leader. "Fessran, I understand your worry and I agree that
there is some danger, but I wish to hear from the herders
themselves before I make any decisions."

"That is reasonable, clan leader," Fessran answered.

Those who do not understand the fire-creature's ways
should not meddle wth it. Ratha turned to the group,
repeating Fessran's words silently in her mind. Did that
include Thakur and his [reeling as well as ignorant
herders?

She surveyed the gathering, looking briefly into each
face, as if she could find an answer there. Some of the
Firekeepers answered her gaze directly, some held bidden
defiance and others were uncertain or afraid.

"All of you know the herding teacher Thakur and the
treeling he carries on his back," said Ratha. "Some of you
were at the gathering where he showed us how Aree could
tend the fire-creature." She looked meaningfully at each
one of them. "I have just spoken with Thakur. The tree-
ling is gone. We can find no trace of him. I came here to
ask if anyone has seen him or knows where he might be."

138

"When did this happen?" Fessran said, and Ratha heard
honest concern in her voice.

"This evening. He had to leave Aree in his den while
he went co get thomwood. He says he wasn't gone long
and when he came back, Aree had vanished. Does anyone
know where the treeling is?"

The Firekeepers looked at each other and muttered
negatives. Ratha waited.

"Perhaps the tree-creature ran away and returned to his
own kind," said Shongshar, after a long silence.

'That is possible, but Thakur and I don't think so."

Fessran crossed in front of the fire and sat down beside
Shongshar. "Poor Thakur. He really liked that queer Uttle
animal I didn't think that be should have taught the
creature how to play with the Red Tongue, but I didn't
want Thakur to lose him." She thought for a moment "I
suppose you are wondering why he disappeared this eve-
ning, since we were to see him perform again tomorrow.**

Fessran's gaze softened and Ratha felt less irritated with
her, although she could not allow her suspicion to relax.
Either Fessran knew nothing about Aree's disappearance
or she was good at deceit.

"Yes, I was wondering about that," Ratha admitted.

"I tell you honestly that I knew nothing about it undl
you came to this gathering. I don't think Shongshar knew
either." She turned to her companion. "You were with me
all day, so there was no way you could have known until
Ratha told us."

"I did not know, clan leader,** Shongshar said, but
Racha found it difficult to tell whether truth was hiding
behind his orange gaze. Fessran had begun to pace back
and forth, her tail shaking with indignant anger.

Ratha wondered if she was outraged because Thakur's

139

treeling had been taken or because her Firekeepers were
under suspicion.

"Hear me, torchbearers!" Fessran cried. "What has been
done to Thakur is a shameful thing. I have disagreed with
him, but he us my friend- If any of you have had a part in
this or have knowledge that you are concealing, come
forward now."

She strode up and down in front of them, glowering at
them- No one moved, except Bira, who shivered.

"Then you are all innocent," said Fessran in a low
voice. "If I am wrong and someone is hiding his guilt,
then may the Red Tongue burn in his throat undl his
tongue falls from his mouth in cinders'."

Ratha felt her breath catch in her own throat. For a
moment the Firekeeper leader looked like the old Fessran,
the friend who had fought beside her against the old clan
leader and whose fierce love and loyalty had sustained her
during the chaotic days after Meoran's death.

I have no right to Judge you, Fessran, she thought
suddenly. We have both changed more than we wished.

Fessran came to Ratha and looked her directly in the
face. "Neither I nor any of the Firekeepers have done such
a shameful thing," she said. "You must accept that as
truth, clan leader."

"If I can," Ratha answered softly as she turned to go.

Sadly she returned to Thakur and told him that she had
learned nothing- Even her suspicions were difficult to
justify; for now she felt she had best keep them to herself.
It was possible that the treeling had run off to find a mate
among his own kind, she suggested.

The next day, she helped him search for the treeling
again, but they only saw wild ones who scrambled up to

140

the tops of their trees and dung there in the swaying
branches. There was a cull in the meadow that day and
Ratha ate as if her belly would never be filled, but she saw
that Thakur had no appedte and quickly gave up his place
to the one behind him.

He went back to teaching the cubs, but his step was
heavy and his scolding harsher than it had been. He closed
himself off to all, even Ratha, and he rarely spoke or
looked anyone in the face. He seemed to have lost his
spirit along with the treeling and he faded day by day
until he became like a shadow among the shadows of
trees and bushes that fell across clan ground.

Ratha spent much of her rime with the Firekeepers. Her
major reason for doing so was to prevent gatherings of the
sort that frightened cubs. but she also felt she had failed
to give the Firekeepers proper guidance in their attitude
toward the fire-creature. She did admit to herself that she
was a little uncertain about what that attitude should be.

Fessran seemed to welcome this new attention, although
Shongshar dearly did not like it. The Firekeeper leader
often invited Ratha to come with her at night when she
patrolled the ring of guard-fires around the meadow. They
frequently had time to talk, and Ratha realized that her
position as clan leader had distanced her from the one who
had been her most loyal friend.

Summer had come and the warmth of the day stayed
into late evening. Only in the hours before dawn did the
night grow cold and dew settle on the grass. This was the
time when the Firekeepers were weary, when the fires
could sink low and the threat of attack was the greatest
Fessran chose this time to patrol, walking from one out-

141

post to the next, seeing that each fire was properly tended
and that there was enough wood. She offered encourage-
ment and good spirits to those who stood the early morn-
ing guard. Ratha was heartened to see the weary Fire-
keepers grin at Fessran's ceasing. She noticed that her own
presence also seemed to cheer some of them.

She was following Fessran across the moonlit grass and
had stopped to shake the dew from her feet when a scream
tore through the night's silence. She knew in an instant
that the cry had not come from any of die herd animals
nor from raiders lurking nearby. It was a scream of pain
and terror and it had come from the center of the meadow.

Ahead of her, she saw Fessran start and freeze as the
cry began again. Then both of them were racing across the
grass.

"The herders' fire," panted Fessran as Ratha caught up
with her. "Over there by the old oak."

The herders had begun to cluster about the fire that
they used to warm themselves. In their midst lay an
orange-lit form that jerked and writhed. The head stretched
back, the mouth snarled open, and Ratha heard another
terrible cry.

She sped past Fessran and skidded to a stop in the
middle of the herders. Her belly gave a painful twist
when she saw that the distorted face was Bundi's. Cherfan
pawed the shuddering young herder, looking frightened
and lost.

"Turn him over," Ratha ordered. "Quickly."

As carefully as she could, she helped Cherfan roll
Bundi over. As the side of his face and neck came into
view, Ratha felt her lips draw back from her teeth. From
his cheek to his neck and shoulder, his flesh wai hlisiered

142

and glistening, with ash clinging to charred fur. Even as
she watched, the skin of his face began to pucker, drawing
die corner of his mouth back.

His eye was swollen shut and both his nose and eye-
brow whiskers on that side were gone.

'Take him to the stream," said Fessran, pushing her
way through the crowd of herders. "Water can ease the
Red Tongue's hurt. Hurry!"

Half-dragging and balf<arrying Bundi, Ratha and
Cherfan lugged him to the little creek near the trailhead.

"Lay him here, where there is no mud on the bottom,"
Fessran directed, wading in. "Easy. Hold his nose out of
the water."

Ratha benr her head down, trying to see Bundi's face.
She felt his breath on her whiskers as he panced rapidly
and arched his back in a convulsive shudder. He opened
his mouth for another scream, but could only gurgle and
cough as water filled his throat.

Ratha caught his nape on the uninjured side and lifted
him enough for the water to drain out. Cherfan helped
her move him so that he was tying in the shallows with
his munie on the bank. After a while his breathing be-
came steadier and he managed to whisper that the pain
was less.

"Can you take care of him?" she asked Cherfan and
Pessran. "I want to go back and look at the fire."

"Poor clumsy cub," she heard Cherfan moan as she
climbed out of the stream and shook herself hard. "You
shouldn't have gone near the Red Tongue when there
was no one there to protect you."

Ratha laid back her ears as she trotted toward the
fire. Bundi was awkward, but he wasn't that clumsy, was
he? She circled the firebed, examining the ground care-

143

fully. It was no use; the herder's tracks and her own
obliterated Bundi's and those of anyone else who might
have been there. Likewise, the scents of everyone who
had been there were too thick for her to detect any sus-
picious smells.

She could see that the fire had definitely been disturbed.
It was lopsided and there was a large imprint in the ash
and crushed coals where a body had fallen. Now the
question remained: had Bundi tripped over his own paws,
or had someone pushed him?

Again, she circled, looking for tracks where the dirt
met the grass. She found half of one pugmark and de-
cided that it had been there before the herders had all
crowded around Bundi. The print was too large to be
Bundi's. It would only belong to one of two males in the
clan: Cherfan or Shongshar.

Cherfan had been there when she arrived, she reminded
herself. But Bundi is his own son! I know Cherfan and he
could never do such a thing to a cub he sired. That left
only Shongshar.

But even if the print was his mark, when had he left
it? He could have been one of those who helped build the
herders' fire earlier that evening. Or he could have pushed
Bundi. But he seemed even fonder of Bundi than Cherfan
was. Neither possibility made much sense.

Was the Red Tongue itself the malignant force? Could
Fessran have been right when she suggested the fire-
creature could lash out against those who displeased it?
Could it have sensed the presence of an ignorant herder,
lured him close and then pulled him in?

For a moment Ratha stared at the fire, which was bum-
ing steadily as if nothing had happened. This is a creature
we do not understand^ she said to herself, and the thought

144

sent her tail creeping between her legs. Fear crawled
through her fur and she suddenly wanted to flee from this
alien thing before it reached out and took her in its fierce
embrace.

She made her legs stop shaking and swallowed the lump
in her throat. There were questions she had to ask and the
answers to those would tell her whether to believe that
the fire had needed any help to burn poor Bundi.

"When she returned to the stream, Fessran was coaxing
Bundi out of the water; she even got him to shake himself
off a little. He crouched on the bank with Cherfan close
against him on one side and Fessran on the other, trying to
warm him. Fessran spoke softly, trying to cheer and re-
assure him. She was so honest in her concern and her
eagerness to help that Ratha knew, whatever bad hap-
pened, Fessran had taken no part in it. Now and then,
Bundi burse into shivers, but he seemed to be in less pain.
The three of them looked like an odd moonlit lump on the
streambank.

Ratha shivered herself as the night wind touched the
dampness in her fur. "Can you walk, Bundi?" she asked
him. "You should be sheltered in a den. Fessran, will you
take him to your lair?"

"Yes, I will, but there is something I want to do first."

"What?"

"Post some Firekeepers at the herders* fire."

Ratha felt surprise and then a couch of annoyance, but
she was too drained and a liccle too frightened to argue.
If the Red Tongue was malevolent, she had a duty to
guard her people from it.

"All right," she agreed at last.

She knew Fessran sensed her reluctance, for the Fire-
keeper said, "m give Bira that duty. She gets along well

145

with most of the herders. She can choose whom she wants
to work with her."

This cheered Ratha. Bira wasn't likely to think herself
above the herders or make arbitrary decisions about who
could come near the fire and who couldn't.

The young Firekeeper was summoned and soon took
up her new post. Several herders eyed her suspiciously, for
they were not accustomed to having a Firekeeper in con-
stant attendance. But when the news of Bundi's injury
spread, they changed their minds and welcomed her pro-
tection.

Fessran took Bundi to her den and made him comfort-
able there. Ratha looked in on them just before weariness
sent her to her own lair. She crawled into it Just as dawn
was beginning to color the sky, and she quickly fell into
a deep and exhausted sleep.

She was not often troubled by dreams, but the events
of the night seemed to replay themselves in her mind in a
way strangely altered from what she had seen. In her
dream, she stood again before the Red Tongue and, as
she watched, the fire-creature changed. The flames that
licked up toward the sky seemed to bend down and sepa-
rate, as if they were becoming legs, and their tips became
rounded and solid as if they were turning into paws. The
heart of the fire elongated into a body. Part of it drew
into a ball and made a head with flame-licked ears and
red coals for eyes.

She watched in terror as the rear legs formed and a
plume of fire swept itself out into a long tail. The creature
opened its mouth, showing teeth that had the impossible
sharpness of a reaching flame. In its fur were streaks of
blue, violet and yellow against a background of searing
orange.

146

Slowly it began co move, and its flame-substance rippled
as if it had muscles. It fixed its glowing eyes on her and
she shook until her teeth chattered as she felt its endless
devouring hunger. Her mind begged her legs to run, but
she stayed, paralyzed by fright and a kind of horrified
fascination.

The fire-creature lowered its head and placed one foot
before the other. It was leaving the den of coals where it
had grown and was coming toward her. Now it spoke
and its voice had the soft hiss of the burning flame. "Bare
your throat to me, dan leader," it said. "Bare your throat
to me, for I am the one who rules."

She crouched, drawn and repelled by its terrible beauty.
As if in worship, she lifted her chin, showing her throat.
The creature that had sprung from the fire's heart ap-
proached her and opened its mouth for the killing bite.
She felt its breath on her and its whiskers, made of slender
tongues of fire, touched her and left searing streaks on her
skin beneath the fur. She felt the points of its fangs draw
across her throat.

"No!" she screamed and lashed out with all her strength
against it.

She awoke with her claws fastened in the wall of her
den and her teeth bared. With a grateful sigh of deliver-
ance, she sank down and lay limp until she was sure the
horror of the dream had really passed. Her coat was
rough and filled with dirt and she could see where she had
writhed on the floor of her lair.

Unsteadily she got up and left the den, shaking the
earth out of her fur and smoothing her pelt with her
tongue. The early afternoon sun shone down through the
scattered trees, comforting her with its warmth and golden
light.

147

But she couldn't forget those coal-red eyes that glowed
with a hunger that would never be sated. She knew the
creature was a dream, but she also knew that dreams often
spoke truth. Although she had set herself to master the
Red Tongue, she understood that a part of her mind would
always look upon the fire-creature with a terror that could
not be answered with reason.

When Fessran came to her that evening and asked chat
Bira be assigned to guard the herders* fire again, it was
easy for Ratha to agree. Soon the Firekeeper had that duty
regularly. At Fessran's urging, she forbade any of the
herders to go near an unguarded flame.

Bundi recovered slowly. His wounds were less serious
than Ratha had thought and she credited Fessran's idea of
bathing him in the Stream. The swelling on his face
diminished; the eye that had been forced shut opened
again. He could walk, but he limped because the burn
extended from his face down his neck to his shoulder and
it hurt him to stretch the blistered skin.

He was soon back with the herders, doing what he
could and trying to do more. Soon he had recovered full
use of his shoulder, but he and everyone around him knew
that he would always be disfigured.

Ratha continued to seek an answer to the mystery of
Bundi's accident. She questioned him carefully, but shock
had driven the memory from his mind and he couldn't
recall exactly what had happened. He knew only that he
had flung himself out of the firebed and rolled on the
ground until someone came.

Shongshar remained politely evasive and Ratha did not
want to alienate Fessran by pressing him harder. She was
sure Fessran herself had nothing to do with it and if she
suspected Shongshar at all, she would have spoken.

148

CHAPTER

13




FERNS STROKED Racha's side as she padded
through them and along the mossy bed beside the
streambank. She startled a frog and heard it plunk into
the clear water. Above her, scattered trees spread their
branches toward each other across the creek. When the
breeze died, she could hear the soft splash of a waterfall
that lay farther up the trail.

She was following the little creek up from the meadow
to its source in the hills, something she often did when she
wandered alone with no destination and a wish for only
her own company. She thought wistfully that she would
Uke to have taken Thakur along, but he was busy teaching
this morning. His unhappiness over the loss of his trceling
would have made him a poor companion anyhow. There
was not much she could do to cheer him up; she had
already cried. Eventually he would forget his grief, but it
would take time.

She felt a little angry with him for retreating into
sorrow when she was most in need of his help and sup-
port. There was no one she could talk to now. She thought
briefly of unburdening herself to Fessran, but their friend-
ship had grown too uncertain. The Firekeeper leader had
found a new loyalty, one that was pulling her away from
her old ties.

149

Since the accident, the herders had shunned Bundi, for
they viewed his scars as a mark of the Red Tongue's dis-
pleasure. The cub, whose awkwardness had made him shy,
was becoming bitter and lonely, and the look in his eyes
was that of someone much older. The only herder who
would work with him now was Shoman, whose leg also
bore marks of the Red Tongue's wrath and who suffered
the same hostility as Bundi. There was little Ratha could
do about the herders' rejection of the injured pair except
to demand that it not be shown in her presence.

The trail began to slope upward and Ratha followed it,
listening to the sound of the waterfall as it echoed through
the trees. Something made her stop and look upward, and
she felt suddenly as if she were being watched.

She looked back down the trail and sniffed the breeze
that ruffled her fur. No one was behind her. After waiting
for a moment, she lowered her head and went on.

A rustle in the branches overhead stopped her again
and she peered suspiciously up into the canopy. A small
brown head with a banded muzzle appeared through the
leaves a short distance above her head. It stared at her with
round black eyes.

"Aree?" ir said.

Ratha stared back. Her mouth opened and her jaw
sagged until she was gaping. "Aree? Have I really found

?"

you."

The (reeling yawned at her and scratched himself. He
leaned down to peer at Ratha, extending his long ringed
tail for balance. Then, as if satisfied, he ambled along the
branch and climbed down into the crotch of the tree.

At first Ratha thought she had made a mistake. This
creature was a bit larger and considerably rounder than
Thakur's u-eeling. Then she saw the crooked rear leg.

150

Unless another treeling had also managed to break its kg
in exactly the same place. this one had to be Aree.

Ratha talked softly to the treeling, trying to coax him
down, but Aree seemed shy and unsure. He would scart to
climb down, then hesitate and scramble back up to his
perch.

"Come on, Aree. You know who I am. You used to
groom my fur. It needs grooming now," she said and
Started to purr.

Aree was never afrasd of me once he gof used to me.
He used to jump all over me. I wonder what has made him
so shy.

The treeling started to groom himself, nuzzling the
bulge of his belly. His? Aree was obviously a female and
had found a mate.

"Thakur will have to get used to thinking of you as a
she," Ratha said, grinning. "He'll also have to get used to
all your little cubs, when you have them."

Aree cocked her head and curled her tail at Ratha, but
wouldn't budge from the tree no matter how loud she
purred. Ratha was starting to worry when she remembered
the command Thakur had used to call the treeling to him.

She drew in her breath, gave a short hiss and clicked
her teeth twice. Aree's eyes brightened. The treeling
launched herself from the tree, bounced to the ground
and then up onto Racha's back. She rubbed her cheek
against Ratha and was answered with nuzzles and licks.
The creature took her place on Ratha's shoulder and
wound her tail around Ratha's neck.

When she was sure Aree would stay on her back, she
turned around and trotted down the trail to the meadow,
eager to find Thakur.

As she drew close and heard the sound of cubs' voices,

151

she hesitated. Carrying Aree out into die open sun of the
meadow might not be the best idea. If Thakur's young
pupils saw her with the treeling on her back, they would
crowd around her with eager curiosity and might frighten
Aree. If the treeling panicked and ran away, she would
never be able to get her back again.

She left the trail before it led into the meadow and
circled through the brush at the edge of the grass until she
reached a leafy thicket. Here she was close enough to see
and hear everything. The wind blew toward her and she
caught the sweaty smell of dapplebacks and the eager
nervous scenes of the youngsters.

The cubs were watching as Thakur chased two dapple-
backs across the meadow. The horses pounded in front of
him, their manes flying. He raced after them, lithe and
slim, yet powerful. With a sudden burst of speed, he
caught up with the dapplebacks and dashed between them.
It seemed as though he drove right under those flying
heels, and Ratha forgot to breathe until she saw the
horses separate with Thakur running between them.

The cubs also stood transfixed and Ratha imagined they
were doubting whether they would ever be able to cut and
drive dapplebacks the way he did. As a herder in training,
she had practiced endlessly before she could attempt what
he had just done. An instant of indecision or a false step
could bring the herder down to be trampled beneath those
sharp-toed feet.

Ratha saw Thakur jog to a stop. Ahead of him, the two
horses slowed, grunting and snorting- These dapplebacks
were more lively than the old mare he had been using;

she guessed the cubs had reached a stage in their training
where they could work a beast with more spirit.

Aree shifted on her back, reminding her why she had

152

come here. She looked for the nearest cub and recognized
Fessran's younger son who was standing in the sparse
shade near the edge of the grass.

"Sst! Kbusbi!" Ratha called, leaning out of her hiding
place. The cub jumped and turned his head back over his
shoulder.

"Sst! Over here. Quickly."

Khushi blinked as he caught sight of her. With a quick
look to either side, he galloped over to her thicket.

"Clan leader!" he said, his eyes large with surprise.
"What are you doing, hiding in the bushes?"

"Never mind that," she said, trying to keep enough
leaves over her head to conceal the treelmg. "Go get your
teacher. Tell him that I have something for him."

Khushi eyed her doubtfully. "Clan leader, he's really
grumpy today. If I interrupt him, he'll chew my ears and
they're already pretty ragged."

"I have something for him that will help his temper,"
she answered. At that instant Aree chose to poke her head
through the leaves and Khushi's eyes got bigger than ever.
"Oooh!"

Ratha ducked farther back in the thicket "I've got
Thakur's lost friend. Hurry up and get him, or I'll chew
your ears!"

With a gasp, Khushi took off and scampered across the
grass to where Thakur was supervising the other cubs as
they rounded up the two dapplebacks. Khushi had to tug
at Thakur's tail to get the herding teacher's attention and
Ratha saw him duck an irritated swipe. But die cub was
persistent and at last Thakur left his pupils with the
dapplebacks and crossed the grass to Ratha's hiding place.

"Ratha?" he called crossly. "Khushi said you were here.
Where...?"

153

She was lifting her foot over a low branch when Aree
gave a Joyful squeal and sprang over her head. She had
forgotten to unwind her tail completely from around
Ratha's neck. Suddenly unbalanced, Ratha spilled out onto
the grass and landed on her front.

She looked up, dazed and half-choked. Aree hung be-
tween the two of them, suspended by the tail, with her
arms around Thakur's neck. She was rubbing her cheek
against his and cooing as if she would never stop. Thakur
looked as taken aback as Ratha was. His Jaw sagged open
against the rreeling's arm and he stared at Ratha in com-
plete bewilderment for an instant.

Then his drooping whiskers sprang up and his ears
perked. His disbelief quickly gave way to delight.

"Aree!" he cried as the treeling loosed her tail from
Ratha's neck and hugged him with her legs and arms.
"Aree, you're really back! Oh how I've missed you, you
little flea-picker! You can eat fruit on my back all day long
and dribble and I'll never complain, just as long as you
stay."

Ratha picked herself up and smoothed the rumpled fur
on her breast. "And not a word of thanks to the brave clan
leader who risked paws and tail to bring this unpredictable
creature back to you?" she said hoarsely, adding a cough
for effect.

"He didn't hurt you badly, did he?" Thakur asked,
wrinkling the fur on his brow. She sat up stiffly. "She"—
Racha paused—"nearly choked me to death. The next
time you lose your treeling, the clan may need another
leader."

Thakur eyed Aree with astonishment. "You're right.
He's a she and soon there will be more of them."

"If Aree's cubs prove to be as clever as she is, then

154

we've solved Pessran's problem, haven't we?" Ratha
grinned at Thakur.

"If I can train all her young ones. I don't know how
I'm going to teach herding and cope with a whole treeling
family at the same time," he added with mild dismay.

"When the time comes, I'll help you," Ratha offered.
Then she explained how she had found the (reeling, and
how the creature had stayed in the tree until she hissed
and clicked her teeth. "I don't know why Aree was so
afraid of me. She used to enjoy grooming my fur," she said,
puzzled.

Thakur had been nosing the treeling and licking her
coat. He paused, went back over a spot he had licked before
and carefully spread the treeling's fur with his tongue and
teeth.

"Look," he said, bis voice indistinct. Ratha peered at
Aree's back. On the treeling's skin she saw two bright pink
lines side by side. They were half-healed claw marks.

"Now we know that she didn't just run off on her own,"
Rarha said at last. "Someone chased her."

"And nearly caught her," Thakur added, his voice grim.
Aree shook herself and smoothed her fur. "You were too
fast for Shongshar, weren't you, little tree-climber?"

"So you think it was Shongshar," she said in a low
voice.

"Yes. There is no one else who had as good a reason
for getting rid of Aree. He's convinced that the only way
to master the Red Tongue is by strength and fierceness.
My Aree proved that there is another way. If the Fire-
keepers listen to me, they will no longer believe Fessran
and Shongshar. Fessran might be willing to change, but
not Shongshar."

155

"What about Bundi's accident?" Ratha asked.

Thakur's eyes narrowed. "That is harder to explain.
Shongshar and Bundi were like lair-brothers. Even now, I
find it difficult to believe that he could deliberately hurt
Bundi."

"I found his pawprints at the edge of the firebed," Ratha
told him.

"That doesn't prove anything. Shongshar could have
been there earlier, helping to light the fire. No. I think
it was Nyang who pushed Bundi."

"Fessran's son?" Ratha was Startled by this suggestion,
but the more she thought about it, the more it made sense.
"Yes. Nyang would do anything to please Shongshar. I
have seen how that cub looks at him."

"Yes, but we don't have any evidence," Thakur re-
minded her.

"You know me too well, herding teacher," Ratha said,
somewhat ruefully. "Until I can prove to myself that
Shongshar and Nyang are guilty, I can't punish them. If
they are, they have covered their tracks well."

"And you may not be able to unbury those tracks. I
think we should look ahead on this trail, not back," said
Thakur. "Now that Aree has returned, we can continue
training her with the fire."

Ratha felt a slight twinge of uncertainty. "Do you think
that's really a good idea? I mean . . ." She faltered as he
stared at her in surprise. "We aren't sure what happened
to Bundi, are we? It might have been the fire-creature
itself that burned him."

"Don't tell me that you've been listening to that dapple-
back dung! It may be fit for frightening litterlings, but
you have more sense."

156

She hesitated, thinking about her dream. "I know, but
sometimes I'm not sure. What happened to Bundi scared

me.

"It frightened others too. If Fessran had posted a Fire-
keeper to guard the herders' fire before Bundi's accident,
the yowls would have set her fur on end. Now no one
complains."

"They're glad," said Ratha. "That also frightens me a
little. I'm not sure what to do."

"Help me work with the treelings," Thakur suggested.
"We can continue teaching Aree, and after her little ones
are born, we can train them too."

"Then Fessran won't worry about having only one
treeling," said Ratha excitedly. "She may even decide to

help us."

"Maybe later, but for now we should keep this as secret
as we can," Thakur cautioned.

"Bring Aree to my den this evening, then. I'll have a
fire there. If we keep the Red Tongue small, it won't be
able to hurt her."

"I will I have to get back to my pupils now," he added,
glancing over to where several cubs stood watching him
with their tails raised in curiosity.

Ratha stayed hidden long enough to be sure that Thakur
could manage both Aree and the rambunctious cubs. When
she was satisfied that he was in no danger of losing the
creature again, she slipped away.

She decided to go and inspect the ground near Thakur's
den for any traces of footprints. The old ashes from the
last fire Bira had built for him were sail there and the
site had been left alone. She might find some faint prints
she had overlooked before.

157

On her way along the path that wound through scat-
tered trees, she heard far-off splintering sounds and cracks.
Soon a Firekeeper came hurrying along the trail, with
kindling in his mouth. The sounds of breaking wood con-
tinued and another Firekeeper followed with a Jagged
piece of a dead log that he could barely get his jaws
around.

Ratha looked after him with mild curiosity. Her interest
became stronger when a third wood-carrier followed. As
he disappeared, she heard the footsteps of yet another.
Bira appeared with a mouthful of fragrant pine twigs. As
she approached she ducked her head respectfully to Ratha,
which made her drop several sticks. When she tried to
retrieve them, she only lost more. She attempted to snag
them with her claws and push them into her mourh with
her pads, but finally she lost patience and unloaded the
whole mouthful.

"I shouldn't try to carry so many at once," she said, spit-
ting out pieces of gray bark, "but Fessran wanted us to
hurry."

"Where are you taking it?" asked Ratha- She gathered
up some of the scattered twigs and placed them beside
Bira's pile of sticks.

"Oh, the wood isn't for a gathering fire," Bira said
quickly. "Fessran's found a cave beside the waterfall and
we're putting wood in there so it will stay dry during the
rainy season."

Ratha helped Bira get all the twigs secured between
her teeth and the young Firekeeper trotted away with a
grateful wave of her tail.

Ratha stared up the path, thinking. Fessran hadn't told
her about a cave for storing wood- It sounded sensible
enough, although there was no need to hurry; the rainy

158

season wouldn't start for a long time. / think I'll just
follow Bira up there awl look around.

She took the same trail she had taken that morning and
soon passed the place where she had found Aree. She saw
that her pugmarks had been wiped away under the feet of
the Firekeepers who had passed this way- A stray pine twig
told her that Bira hadn't managed to hold onto all her
load.

She wondered how long they had been doing this and
whether they had stopped when she took the path earlier.
She had noticed that the trail beside the creek looked a
little more worn than usual, and there were more smells
about.

The creek trail ran between great trees whose charred
rough bark spoke of the Red Tongue's passing. Farther
on, the path wound around outcroppings of coarse-grained
stone that had weathered and crumbled to form a white
gravel that crunched beneath her pads. The grade became
steep, and by the time she reached the huge granite slab
that lay at the base of the waterfall, she was panting
slightly.

Ratha stood, letting the wind-blown spray cool her as
she studied the tumbled boulders near the foot of the cliff.
She tensed as something moved in the shadows. It took
form, becoming a head and forelegs. A Firekeeper emerged
from a deft between the rocks. He was so intent on his
work that he did not see her, and he soon disappeared out
of sight down the trail she had just climbed up.

She threaded her way through the scattered rockfalls
until she reached the cleft. She was about to enter when
she heard voices echoing inside. Quickly she backed off.
One of the voices was Fessran's. The other, louder one was
Shongshar's.

159

"I really think we should have told her before we
started." Fessran sounded querulous. "It's obvious that
this will benefit the rest of the clan, not Just our Fire-
keepers."

"And suppose she doesn't see it that way," Shongshar
hissed, and the echo from the rock walls added menace to
the voice that carried to Ratha. "Suppose she treats this as
she has treated our gatherings, showing little respect for
us and the fire-creature we serve."

"She won't, Shongshar. I ..."

Fessran's voice faltered and Ratha knew a stray breeze
had wafted her scent into the cavern. When the Fire-
keeper leader came out her face had an odd, tight look as
if she were angry but was afraid to lose her temper. Shong-
shar followed her and fixed Ratha with his srrange un-
readable gaze. He had changed so much in the time since
he had given up his witless young that she no longer knew
what to expect from him.

"I was told you were storing wood up here," she said
briskly, not looking at either one of them. "That is a good
idea. I would like to see how much you have gathered."

"Not very much. "Why don't you come back later when
we have sorted and stacked it?" Fessran said, with a glance
at Shongshar.

"Then show me the cave," Ratha said flatly, making
sure they knew this was no longer a request.

Silently Shongshar turned his gray bulk around and
led the way in. Ratha went after him and heard Fessran
following. She expected to have to use her whiskers while
her eyes adapted to the gloom, but she found that the low
tunnel was lit by a faint wavering light.

Her ears caught a soft, steady roar that grew louder as
they traveled farther into the cavern. The light grew

160

Stronger, making Shongshar into a gray-brown shadow
ahead of her and tinting Fessran's eyes with a ruddy glow.

The sound grew louder stilL Ratha, following Shong-
shar, found herself in a larger cave whose roof arched away
into shadow. Crystal-flecked pillars reflected the fierce
orange light from the fire that burned in the center of the
cavern.

Ratha felt her fur rise. She had been in caves before,
but they had been lighted only by the soft phosphorescence
of slimy planes that grew on their walls. She had sensed
the vastness and emptiness of those underground caverns
only by the echoes that reached her ears or by the clammy
breeze that seemed to come from the depths of the earth.
Now, with the fire's light, she could examine an entire
chamber.

Pillars of rough limestone reared up until they were
lost in the shadows that played on the roof of the cave.
Fang-shaped stones rose from the floor to guard the en-
trances to other chambers deeper in the rock, whose age-
less emptiness seemed to seep into the cave in which she
stood.

She looked around in awe, feeling small and fearful
amid the ominous majesty of the great cavern. Against the
base of a pillar, the Firekeepers had begun piling kindling.
The wood looked untidy and out of place against the fire-
jeweled pillar. There were a few Firekeepers in the rear
of the chamber; Ratha had not noticed them at first, since
they blended into the moving shadows cast by the Red
Tongue.

The cave itself was not the only awesome thing. Ratha
felt her gaze drawn almost unwillingly to the fire. Its
sound filled the chamber and its light danced on the pil-
lars and the walls. Here, its presence was overwhelming

161

and shadowed everything else. Here, its power was con-
tained and strengthened. Here was a place where the Red
Tongue ruled.

Again Ratha remembered her dream, and she could
almost see the coal-red eyes of the dream creature form-
ing in the fire's heart. She fought fear with anger, turn-
ing suddenly on Fessran.

'"Why have you brought the fire in here?" she de-
manded. "I thought this was to serve only as a place for
keeping wood."

It was not Fessran but Shongshar who answered. "Our
Firekeepers find it difficult to see when they come in from
daylight. We have lighted the cave so they can see where
to place their wood. Surely you see the sense in doing so,
clan leader."

Despite herself, Ratha had to agree that his reason was
valid. She felt frustrated at being unable to find an ex-
planation for the sense of uneasiness that clawed at her
belly. She asked more questions, but the answers all made
sense, even though they didn't satisfy her. Why had they
picked such a large cavern? The smaller ones were above
the falls and more difficult to reach. Why hadn't they
built the fire in the less spacious gallery that led to the
cave? It was too damp and the wood must be kept dry.

At last Ratha said, "When you are finished gathering
wood, you will no longer need the fire-creature in the
cave. I want it taken out."

"We will need it here when the rainy season comes,"
Fessran protested.

"I will decide what to do when the rainy season comes.
When you are finished stacking wood, you will take the
Red Tongue out of here."

"As you wish, clan leader," Shongshar said in a low

162

growl. Fessran looked as if she wanted to say something
else, but remained silent.

Ratha found her way out of the cave. The bright day
hurt her eyes, but she was suddenly grateful for the sun-
light and blue sky. She breathed air made crisp by spray
from the falls, shook herself and went back down the
trail.

The task of wood gathering took much more time
than Ratha expected. Once or twice she nearly lost her
temper, but Fessran pointed out that if she wanted the
herds to be safely guarded, the Firekeepers had to have
dry fodder for the guard-fires. Ratha remembered the
bristlemane attack and reluctantly agreed to let the Fire-
keepers finish their task.

Although she disliked being in the cave, she went up
to it every once in a while to see how the Firekeepers
were doing. On her most recent trip, she noticed that Fess-
ran had set someone outside to guard the cavern entrance.

This made her more uneasy than ever. As soon as
enough wood was stockpiled for the rainy season, she was
going to put a stop to the activity in the cave.

CHAPTER







THE TASK OF GATHERING WOOD continued

to go slowly and Ratha's impatience grew. Each
day that the fire burned in the cave seemed to add to the

163

strength and influence of the Firekeepers. Every day that
she was in the meadow, she would hear the herders talk-
ing about the cave-den of the Red Tongue. Some were
bold enough to speak about visiting it, although none of
them had, as far as she knew.

Midsummer passed and the green of the meadow grass
turned to pale gold. The herdbeascs coughed in the dust
raised by the dry wind. The little stream that flowed
through the meadow shrank co a trickle and the herders
began taking the animals to the river to water. The Fire-
keepers took great care in clearing the places where the
guard-fires were lit, for a single spark could set the meadow
aflame.

The Firekeepers' task began drawing to an end at
last. Even Fessran agreed with Ratha that enough dry
wood had been stored to last through the longest rainy
season. She was less agreeable about taking the Red
Tongue out of the cave, and Ratha found, to her dismay,
that not only the Firekeepers, but many of the herders
wanted it kept there. "Why protect only the Red Tongue's
food from the wind and rain? Did it make sense to do
that while the fires that were the main source for lighting
all the others were left ill-protected in shallow dens dug
for them in the meadow? In a bad storm, the fire-lairs
could flood. Why not keep a source-fire safe in the deep
cave? Then the clan would never have to worry about
losing the Red Tongue even in the fiercest of storms.

What angered Ratha most about thus idea was that she
had no good reason to reject it. The bristlemane attack
during a rainstorm had showed her how vulnerable the
herds could be if the Red Tongue failed. The argument
was simple and obvious. At times she could almost con-
vince herself to think about it that way.

164

But the shadow of her dream remained in her mind. She
still saw the hunger of those coal-red eyes and heard the
voice that was die rush of the flames. "Bare your throat
to me, for I am the one who rules," it had said and her
terror had made her crouch and tremble, lifting her chin-
Others of the Named would do so more willingly and
knowing that frightened her in a way she could not
understand.

Her belly knew the truth of her fear, but her tongue
had no words to shape it. How could she hold the image
of her dream-creature up before the clan as a reason to
reject something that might be essential to the clan's
survival? She wondered if the danger she saw was only an
illusion; that she was growing fainthearted and unwilling
to take risks.

The heat of the afternoon lay heavily on her as she
padded along the trail that led to Thakur's den. She
smelled the scent of summer leaves and of faded flowers
whose centers were swelling into fruit. Once- she would
have stopped to let the smells fill her nose with the rich-
ness of the season, but now her cares pushed aside any
enjoyment.

She found Thakur lying in the shade outside his lair.
Aree was not perched in her usual place on his shoulder.
She sat huddled up against him. As Ratha approached, the
treeUng tried to curl herself up, bur her pregnant belly
kept her from doing much more than looping her long
tail over her shoulder. She seemed restless and unable to
get comfortable.

Ratha was so used to seeing Aree on Thakur's back or
the nape of his neck that the (reeling looked odd sitting
beside him.

Thakur caught her look. He raised his head and grinned

165

at her. "Poor flea-picker is getting too bulgy to stay on
my shoulder. She wobbled a lot this morning and I thought
she was going to cumble off."

"When will she have her cubs?"

"Tonight, I think. She's been gathering fern leaves
for a nest in the back of my lair and her smell has
changed."

Aree reached up on Thakur's flank, grasped two hand-
fuls of fur and heaved herself up onto him. She reached
for his tail, which he obligingly curled across his leg
where she could reach it- She began pulling out tufts of
hair and bundled them together in her fingers.

"She found out I was still shedding a little and she likes
the fur to line her nest," Thakur explained.

"I hope she leaves you enough to cover your tail,"
Ratha observed, as the treeling pulled out a large tuft of
his fur.

"Ouch!" Thakur flicked his tail out of Aree's reach.
"All right, you've got plenty. You'd better go build your
nest before you decide to have your cubs on top of me."

"Aree!" agreed the treeling as she clambered off him
and shuffled into the den, holding the wad of fur.

Thakur looked after her anxiously for a minute. "I'm
glad you came," he said to Ratha. "You know more about
this than I do."

"Me? I don't know anything about treelmgs," she
protested.

"Yes, but you do know about having cubs."

Ratha cocked her head at him. "I did it once. I don't
see how that is going to help."

"Well, maybe not," Thakur conceded. "At least you
can tell me what she's doing."

Ratha expected that Aree would soon emerge from the

166

den to gather more leaves or steal more fur. As the after-
noon shadows lengthened and the treeling didn't appear,
Thakur began to get nervous.

"Maybe I should go and see if she's all right," he said,
rolling to his feet. He crept inside until only his tail hung
out. "She's in the nest, on her side," he called, his voice
muffled. "She's moving a little and making funny noises."

Racha poked her head in alongside his flank and lis-
tened. She could hear Aree breathing and every few
breaths the treeling gave a soft grunt. Satisfied that every-
thing sounded all right, Ratha withdrew from the lair
and gave a tug on Thakur's tail

"Come out, herding teacher. You're worse than a
curious yearling at birthing time. The best thing you can
do now is leave her alone."

Thakur backed out of the den, his fur rumpled. "Any-
one would think you had sired Aree's cubs," Ratha teased.

"Don't hold it against me, clan leader," he said wryly.
"After all, this may be as close as I get co having a family
of my own."

She winced. 'Tm sorry, Thakur. I didn't mean to re-
mind you."

"Don't be. I've become used to living with it," he
said. "I decided not to take the chance and. after seeing
what happened to Shongshar's cubs, I'm more convinced
than ever." He paused. "I don't think you would want to
have to abandon another litter, especially if I was their
father."

She stretched out with her hindquarters in the sun and
the rest of her in the dappled shade. She laid her head on
her paws and fek grateful to Thakur that he had the
sensitivity to make himself absent during the time the
females were in heat. By doing so, he freed her from hav-

167

ing to make the painful decision: whether to exile him
during the mating season or allow him to take a partner.
She sighed. If only Shongshar had done the same'

"Thakur," she said suddenly. "Do you think Shong-
shar's cubs are srill alive?"

It was a while before he answered. "I don't think so.
Why?"

"I wonder if I should have told him we didn't kill them.
If I had let him know where we left them, he might have
been able to go and see them." She lifted her head. "I
didn't tell him because I thought he might try to bring
them back. Perhaps it would have been better had I
trusted him." She fell silent awhile and then asked softly,
"Do you think it would do any good to tell him now?"

"No," Thakur answered. "If there was a time that it
would have done any good, that time is past. His grief
has set him on a new trail and he has been on it too
long."

She sighed. "I wish I knew why Fessran listens to him."

"She listens to him for the same reason you find it dif-
ficult to disbelieve his words: he understands the power
of the Red Tongiae and he knows how to use it."

"I don't know whether they are his words or Fessran's.
All I know is that they give me a feeling in my belly that
I don't like and I can't do anything about it."

He leaned closer, listening, and she felt her despair
rising up again. "He is so clever! Everything he says or
tells Fessran to say makes sense. He is right about shelter-
ing the Red Tongue in the cave during the winter rains.
He seems to think only of the safety of my people, but
my belly tells me he has Other reasons for what he does."

"Your belly has been right before," said Thakur.

"Yes, but my belly only had to persuade the rest of

168

me that it was right. Persuading others is harder," Ratha

grumbled.

Thakur shifted so that he was farther into the sun and

half-closed his eyes. Ratha was afraid he was going to
drift off to sleep, but he opened his eyes and said, "The
important thing is to show Fessran what treelings can do.
She will see that there is another way to make use of the
Red Tongue's power. I think she listens to Shongshar
because she thinks there is no way other than his."

"Now that we will soon have more treelingSi there is
another way. I know we still have to train them and there
may still be problems, but I think it will work." She was
about to say more when Thakur sat up and looked in-
tently toward the lair.

"I hear Aree," he said. "I think she wants me."

Despite Ratha's admonitions, he entered the den. She
could only sigh and follow. When her eyes became ac-
customed to the dimness, she saw Thakur curled around
the treeling's nest- How he had done so without disturb-
ing her, Ratha didn't know, but Aree seemed to be
pleased that he was there. The (reeling wriggled herself
dose to him. He began to purr and she crooned softly
to herself.

The blend of sounds soothed Ratha and made her
drowsy. She laid her cheek against the hard-packed soil
of the den floor and let herself drift. She was within the
earth, as she had been in the Red Tongue's cave, but here
she felt sheltered and safe rather than afraid.

Daylight faded outside, but the moon rose, and she
could see by the faint silvery light that filtered into the
den. Aree grew restless again and Ratha heard her turn-
ing about inside her nest Thakur's half-closed eyes opened
wide. Aree halted, crouched and seemed to shudder. She

169

gave a deep grunt, a noise Ratha had never heard from a
treeling before. She grunted again and began to pant.

"She's pushing at me with her feec," Thakur said. "Do
you chink she's all right?"

"Yes. I made all sorts of strange noises when I was
birthing my cubs. Let her push against you if she needs
to."

Ratha's curiosity was suddenly overwhelmed by a sense
of joyous excitement. This was the way she had felt when
she knew that her first cub was pushing its way out from
within her. Even the later knowledge that her Utterlings
were no more than animals couldn't mar this first mem-
ory, and it came flooding back to her so that she began to
pant eagerly along with Aree. It did not matter thai these
were (reeling cubs rather than those of the Named; the
wonder was still the same.

"Anyone would think you were birthing these litter-
lings," Thakur teased gently.

Too excited to feel abashed, she peered into the nest,
trying to see as much as she could. Aree gave an odd sort
of heave and made a long grunt that was almost a growl.

"The first one's coming, Thakur!" Ratha hissed. She
heard Aree take a deep breath and growl again, and then
there was something else in the nest, a shiny wriggling
bundle that made tiny noises of its own. She saw the
treeling's eyes glint as the little mother curled around to
lick her firstborn and free it from the birth-cord that still
bound it to her body.

Ratha remembered the taste and feel of salty wet fur
on her own tongue and the way the tiny thing mewed and
writhed beneath her muzzle. She heard a surprisingly
strong cry and then fast snuffling sounds as the newborn
creature began to breathe.

170

Aree gathered her litterling to her and nursed it. She
ate the afterbirth that soon followed and began to grunt
again. The second treeling cub quickly followed its elder
sibling and Aree lay against Thakur, cradling both little
ones in her arms.

Several more arrived in the nest and Aree had to lie on
her side to nurse them.

"I think she's finished," said Thakur after they had
waited a long time for more treeling cubs to appear.

"I'm not surprised. Her litter is larger than any of ours.^

"How many are there?" asked Thakur. "I can't see
them all."

"She has as many litterlmgs as you have paws," said
Ratha.

"That's a clever way to think about it," said Thakur, ad-
miringly. "Whenever I want to know if I have all my
herdbeasts together, I just smell them and I know which
smells are missing. But we don't know the treelings' smells
very well yet."

"Until we do. Just match them up with your paws. If
you have a paw left over, then you know a little treeling
is missing."

She saw Thakur's outline against the faintly moonlit
wall of the den as he leaned over to nose his treeling.
"Aree certainly doesn't care how many there are. She's
happy."

The sound of the treeling's crooning filled the den.
Soon Thakur joined in with a deep purr and Ratha found
herself adding her own note. She wasn't sure when his
purr faded, for soon afterward, her own voice fell silent
and she joined him in sleep.

It seemed that she had Just closed her eyes when she
was awakened by a nudge in the ribs. She rolled onto

171

her back and blinked sleepily at Thakur. Brilliant morn-
ing sunlight lit the floor of the den near the entrance and
the growing warmth promised a hot day.

"I have to go and teach my pupils, Ratha," he said as
he stepped over her, trailing his shadow. "Can you watch
Aree and her Utterlings until I get back?"

She yawned and shook her pelt, trying to rid herself
of the sleepiness that still clung to her. She remembered
the previous night's events and came fully awake.

"How is Aree doing?" she asked.

"She just fed her Htterlings again and they're all asleep.
They're so tiny, but they already look fat."

Ratha peered into the nest at the four balls of damp-
fluffed fur curled up against the larger lump that was
their mother. For a while, she lay with her chin resting
on her crossed forepaws and watched the rreelings sleep.

Later, she went outside to stretch her legs and keep
watch. When she went in again to escape the full strength
of the noon sun, she found Aree was awake and nursing
two of her young while the others slept. She alternately
dozed and watched the (reeling family. Sometimes Aree
would lie on her side and feed her little ones in the same
manner as did the females of the Named. But often she
nursed them in a different way, cradling them in her arms
and holding them to her teats.

Ratha found this strange and endlessly fascinating.
Aree seemed to know how to exchange her youngsters so
that all got an equal share of milk, rather than having to
fight their linermates for it as did the cubs of the Named.
She became so absorbed that she didn't notice the after-
noon was passing until she smelled Thakur and heard
his footsteps outside the den.

She was almost reluctant to give him back the duty of

172

watching the creelings, but she also felt slightly guilty
for hiding away where no one could find her.

Promising to return and look after the treelings the
following morning, she gave Thakur a farewell nuzzle
and trotted away. She took the trail leading back to the
meadow and soon heard footsteps coming from the other
direction. Ratha saw one of the herders approaching her.
His steps were quick and purposeful, his eyes strangely
intent, as if he were looking at something that always
floated ahead of him.

A look of startled surprise came over his face. He
ducked his head as he passed Ratha, but he did not slow
his pace. She stopped and watched his hindquarters dis-
appear around a bush.

He certainly didn't expect to see me, thought Ratha,
His astonishment had been tinged with a look of shame,
as if she had caught him doing something forbidden and
she knew at once he was on his way to the Red Tongue's
cave.

She wanted to race down the path after him and order
him back to the meadow. That thought quickly gave way
to a feeling of frustration. He knew exactly what he was
doing. The look on his face told her that. Even if she
caught him and scolded him, he would probably do it
again.

She decided instead to follow him at a distance and
watch what happened when he arrived at the cave. His
scent was fresh and his trail easy to follow. She thought
he might already be within the cave as she crept up the
last screech of the trail, but she heard his voice over the
sound of the waterfall.

She hid herself in the scattered boulders to the side
of the path and peered over, pricking her ears as far for-




175

ward as they would go. The herder had his back to her
so that she could see only his tail, which had begun to
curt and wag- The cool breeze from the falls carried the
scent of his dismay and another, less pleasant smell, the
smug se if-satisfaction of the two Firekeepers who barred
his way.

"This is the Red Tongue's den, not a place to amuse
idle dappleback-keepers," one of them growled.

"Just lee me in for a little while. You speak so much
of the strength and beauty of the fire-creature within this
cave that I want to see ic for myself."

"Perhaps you think yourself worthy to serve it, young
herder." The other Firekeeper grinned. "I see you bothered
to groom the manure out of your fur before you came, so
the Red Tongue won't be too displeased."

The herder's tail sprang upright and he took an eager
step toward the cleft in the rocks. Again the Firekeepers
blocked him.

"Not so quickly, dung-wearer," the larger one snapped.
"First we must cell you what you may or may not do
when you are inside."

"All right, tell me." The herder turned his ears slightly
back.

"Keep your ears up and your tail down. No scratching
or licking."

"I scratch myself near the guard-fires," said the herder,
mystified.

"Well, you shouldn't. And this is different. This is
the Red Tongue's den and you should be respectful. Are
you ready?"

The herder answered that he was. One Firekeeper led
him in while the other stayed beside the entrance. He
wasn't gone long before he was led out again, but Ratha

174

could tell he was dazed and awestruck. He blinked and,
as he looked at the Firekeepers, a new, envious hunger
came into his eyes.

"You must have been judged most worthy to serve
such a wondrous creature," he said, and Ratha could see
that his words inflated their pride even further. She was
tempted to jump out from her hiding place and snarl at
them for being so supercilious and overbearing, but she
held herself back. She needed to learn more before she
could confront Fessran and Shongshar with any real proof
of wrongdoing among the Firekeepers.

She decided to come back and hide herself again the
following day to gather more evidence. If the behavior of
these two Firekeepers was any indication, she thought
sourly, she would soon have all she needed. Perhaps she
could even persuade Fessran to hide and listen, for she
sensed that the Firekeeper leader was growing uneasy
about her dependence on Shongshar and her toleration
of his methods.

During the next few days, Ratha fell into a regular
routine of watching Thakur's treelings while he was gone
in the morning and then hiding out near the fire-cave and
observing what went on there. More borders came to
visit. Some, like Cherfan, she liked and respected, and it
dismayed her that they were drawn here. Ac first the
herders came to satisfy their curiosity, but their interest
soon became fascination and they returned again and again
to enter the cave.

Ratha noticed that the Firekeepers became more selec-
tive about whom they would admit. Herders who were
eager to crouch before the fire-creature had to obey rules
that seemed to grow harsher and more arbitrary each time

175

Ratha listened to them. She ground her teeth and growled
—promising herself that once Fessran understood what
was happening she would end these abuses.

Yet, the more she watched, the more uncertain she be-
came. Those who came to the cave begged to enter with
such unabashed eagerness that Ratha felt shame for them.
They were blind to the pettiness of the Firekeepers' rules,
accepting these restrictions as pare of the ritual that seemed
to be growing up around the cave.

As she watched, she gained a new and disconcerting
knowledge of her people. There was something in the
nature of the Named that drove them to crouch in obedi-
ence to this new power. Ratha sensed in them a confusion
of loyalties. Never before had she thought her position as
clan leader might be seriously threatened. She was the one
who had brought this new power to the clan. She had
tamed the Red Tongue and driven the Un-Named back
in terror before its power. All the Named were grateful
to her and all bared their throats to her.

But, she realized, they did not look upon her with the
same awe and passion as they gave to the thing she had
once called her creature. Without the blazing presence of
a firebrand in her jaws, she had only the power of claws
and teeth—and loyalty based on fading memories. Yes,
she had tamed the Red Tongue, but she had given its
keeping to others and been blind to how it changed them.

She began to see the real truth behind her dream. Her
mind had built an image of a Named One made of fire to
show her how deep its power reached within her people
and even within herself.

"We are all crying cubs before it," Thakur had said
once long ago- Ratha remembered his words and thought,

176

Once, I alone could stand before it without fear. Now I
know I am no better than the others.

One day in late summer, she lay in her hiding place
with the sun on her back and her chin on the rock, far
enough from the Firekeeper guards so they wouldn't smell
her. The air was sail and even the sound of the fall seemed
to be muffled by the heat. No one had come all afternoon
and the two Firekeepers were dozing where they sat.
Ratha was thinking about leaving her refuge to drink
from the stream above the falls when she heard claws
scraping on rock. She ducked down and peered through
a cleft between two boulders. For a moment, the crack
framed an ugly face with lop ears and bile-yellow eyes.

Shoman! What was he doing there?

Ratha saw his grizzled brown coat and his kinked tail
as he passed her hiding place. Someone followed him,
and she caught a glimpse of a burn-scarred muzzle and
the faded spots of a yearling.

"Bundi?" she whispered to herself, but she didn't
need his smell to know the injured herder. She felt a sense
of betrayal, although she was not quite sure why. Per-
haps she had assumed that one who had been wounded
by the Red Tongue would never seek its presence again.

She saw Shoman and Bundi approach the Firekeeper
guards. One of them was Fessran's son Nyang and he
came forward to challenge the two herders who sought
entry.

'Take yourselves back down the trail," Nyang said,
flattening his ears at them. "The Red Tongue has marked
you as unfit to enter its lair."

"Unfit because I bear this scar, or unfit because I see

177

only what is there and not what others would have me
see?" growled Shoman.

Nyang's eyes narrowed. "The fire-creature can make
you see whatever it wishes you to see. If you do not be-
Ueve, why are you here?"

"Because of this!" Shoman thrust his scarred foreleg
at Nyang. "Because the Other herders see this and shun
me. I have never been liked and I never expected to be,
but to have them wrinkle their noses and look at me as if I
were a diseased carcass full of blowflies . . . that I can't
bear."

"And you are not afraid that one who angered the fire-
creature once may anger it again?" asked Nyang.

"If it is clumsiness that angers it, then it may have me,"
Shoman spat. "I did nothing wrong, but the other herders
won't believe it. I would rather risk its anger than to go
back down to the meadow and be hissed at with con-
tempt." He paused- Ratha could not see his face, but she
knew he was glaring at Nyang. At last he said, "If you
won't let both of us in, then take Bundi. He suffered
much more from the Red Tongue's touch than I did, and
he is too young to be spurned and made one apart."

Shoman's rough sympathy with Bundi startled Ratha,
who had thought that he was too bitter and selfish to care
much about anyone else. His words were wasted on
Nyang, who looked at him coldly.

"I need a better reason than that," he said and then
leered at Shoman.

The herder gave a deep growl that ended in a sigh. "I
thought you might. Bundi"—he turned to the youngster
behind him—"bring the meat I gave you."

It was a small piece and Bundi had hidden it in his

178

mouth, concealing the sight and smell from anyone else.
He came forward and disgorged it in front of Nyang.

The sight of the chunk of torn flesh lying on the stone
before the Firekeeper enraged Ratha and she had to fight
to keep herself concealed. No one had the right to take
meat from a herdbeast carcass unless they were feeding a
nursing mother. All in the clan ate together and shared
equally until their bellies were filled. Stealing or hoarding
was a shameful act, and by the old laws of the Named, a
clan leader could demand that the culprit bare his throat
for a killing bite.

Nyang smelled the meat, looked to either side to be
sure no one else was watching and then fastened his jaws
in it. Ratha let him eat half before she left her hiding
place and stepped out onto the trail. At the sound of her
footsteps. Nyang started and the other two whirled
around.

"That meat is forbidden, Firekeeper," Ratha said, lower-
ing her head as the hair rose on the nape of her neck.
Nyang tried to gulp down the rest of it, but he choked and
dropped it as she showed her fangs at him. She turned to
Bundi, who could not answer her accusing stare.

"The meat is mine," Shoman said in a harsh voice. "It
is from my share."

"You know as well as I do that we eat from the car-
cass where it lies," said Ratha fiercely. "Your share or not,
it is stolen, and I will not tolerate such a shameful thing
among my people."

He looked back at her, half-ashamed, half-defiant. "Do
you allow a good herder to be shunned and spat on just
because he bears the scars from an accident that was not
his fault? I am speaking of Bundi, clan leader, not
myself."

179

"What good would it do him to enter this cave?" Ratha
asked. "The Red Tongue does not heal its own wounds."

"It can heal the wounds that are made by malicious
words. If Bundi and I enter the cave as if to seek forgive-
ness and emerge unharmed, and if this news is spread
among the other herders, then we will not be treated as
outcasts."

Ratha wanted to ask why they had not come to Cherfan
or to her, but another thought stilled her question. If
Shoman had come to her, she could have ordered that all
who were shunning him and Bundi stop doing so, but
while she might have put an end to their acts, she could
not have changed the feelings that showed in their eyes.
Shoman had taken the only action he could, despite the
risk. He had done it for Bundi as well as himself, and that
made Ratha respect him.

"All right," she said at last. "Nyang, take them into
the cave." With a last hungry look at the meat, the Fire-
keeper led the two herders in.

She picked up the remains of the meat, holding it with
the tips of her fangs as if the taste was rancid. She pushed
past the other Firekeeper guard, who had been watching
in astonishment, and entered the low gallery that led into
the cave.

She halted in the flickering shadows to watch Shoman
and Bundi approach the fire. Shoman stood still, but
Bundi crouched before the flame, ducking his head so low
that his whiskers swept the ground.

Beyond them, on a ledge in the darkness at the rear of
the cave, sat Shongshar and behind him Fessran. Their
eyes were fixed on Bundi and they seemed to brighten as
the young herder raised his chin as if to bare his throat.

Ratha leaped over a row of stone fangs and began to

180

walk purposefully toward the ledge at the rear of the
cave. Bundi halted in his supplication and crept away from
the fire. If he had ignored her and bared his throat to the
fire-creature, she knew she would have filled the cave
with her roar, but she stayed silent and set her feet quietly.

Her path took her past the two herders. She stopped
briefly, narrowing her eyes against the firelight and said,
"Go now. I will make sure the others learn that you are
no longer to be shunned."

"When the two were gone, Racha continued her walk
toward the rear of the cave.

"Why do you enter the Red Tongue's den without per-
mission from the ones who guard it?" Fessran's voice
came from the ledge, sounding hollow and threatening,
yet there was also an edge of fear in her words.

"Because I am the one who tamed the creature for you,
Firekeeper," Ratha answered, looking up at the two on
the ledge. "And I am growing tired of these cub-games.
Call Nyang here."

"My son? What has he done to offend the dan
leader?"

Ratha had dropped the meat she carried in order to
speak clearly. Now she picked it up and tossed it in front
of the ledge. Both Fessran and Shongshar came to the
edge of their perch and peered down, smelling the raw
flesh. Shongshar fixed his eyes on Ratha.

"Your son accepted that meat from the two herders
who wished to enter the cave. It was stolen from a clan
kill," she said.

"Then punish the herders," Shongshar growled. "It is
they who have done wrong." Fessran's eyes grew wide.

"It is also wrong to accept meat that has been stolen

181

or to demand it in return for allowing in herders who
would Otherwise be unwelcome," Ratha hissed.

"I think you misunderstand the intent of the herders,
clan leader," said Shongshar easily as he draped himself
along the edge. The gesture was casual, but she could read
the intent in his half-veiled eyes. He was larger and more
powerful than she remembered and the shadows gave his
orange eyes a strange hidden malevolence. She knew he
saw how her eyes traveled along his body, registering his
bulk and the powerful muscles of his neck and forelegs.

He shifted himself again and continued, "It is a long
way down to the meadow, and some of us do not get the
chance to eat as much as those who stay near the kills. If
the herders try to even things out by bringing us some
meat, I see nothing wrong with it."

"Nyang is always hungry," said Fessran, trying to sound
motherly and indulgent. "He'll eat anything without
thinking about where it came from."

"It is my responsibility to see that everyone has an
equal share of a kill. Nyang gets no less than his share
and frequently tries to take from Others. There is no need
for the herders to bring you meat. If you think this cave
is too far from the meadow, move your wood somewhere
else."

Fessran glanced at Shongshar. but although he was
aware of her gaze, Ratha noticed he did nor look back at
her. "I'll talk to Nyang," Fessran said at last.

"You should talk to all your Firekeepers. Before I
leave, let me remind you that I will not permit anyone to
steal from a carcass or accept meat that has been stolen."
She turned to leave and then looked back over her
shoulder. "If I find that this has happened again, I will

182

have this fire killed and the wood moved somewhere else.
Do you understand me? Good."

She whirled around, trotted across the cave floor, down
the gallery and out into the sunlight. She felt cleansed by
her anger and pleased that she had finally confronted this
thing that had been festering in her mind like the canker
made by a rick burrowing into her flesh. She felt as
though she had found it and nipped it out. But she knew
as she traveled down the trail in the hazy sunlight of late
afternoon that she hadn't yet gotten all of it.

CHAPTER

13




THE HERDERS continued to visit the Red
Tongue's cave. Some did so openly; others were
ashamed and furtive, sneaking up the trail through the
shadows. Racba knew she could do nothing to stop them,
but she kept a careful watch to see that no meat was
taken. Once or twice, she had read that intention in some-
one's eyes as they sank their teeth into a haunch of three-
horn, but her look and the slight lift of her lip as she
growled quickly dissuaded them.

Her suspicion and the growing ascendancy of the Fire-
keepers over the herders poisoned the rough-and-tumble
yer good-natured competition for places about a culled
herdbeast Ratha made sure that everyone received an
adequate share, and there was in fact less inequality than

183

there had been before. But everyone ate in a tense silence,
punctuated only by the sound of tearing flesh.

Ratha found herself eating less, for the atmosphere
around a kill made the meat seem to taste rancid and
stick in her throat. Even the cubs were subdued; they
rarely dived in to snatch a piece of meat as they had done
before. Perhaps they had learned that such anrics could
result in a fierce bite or scratch rather than an easygoing
cuff.

No more food was stolen, and Ratha became less ob-
vious about her watchfulness, hoping that the event would
be forgotten and the clan would go back to its old ways.
This helped a little. There was more conversation at meal-
times and even some humor, but the unspoken distrust
between the Firekeepers and the herders was an under-
current of ill-feeling that kept everyone on edge.

A few days after the last cull, Ratha noticed that one
of the three-horn fawns that had been born that spring
was missing. She questioned the herders closely and had
them search, but no sign of the animal was found. To lose
a herdbeast without explanation was a dangerous prece-
dent and she made it clear to the herders that it was not
to happen again.

Sometimes she felt as if she was no longer walking
among her own people, but among strangers whose puz-
zled, resentful glances made her feel strangely lost- She
looked for the animal herself and did no better than the
herders.

At last Cherfan told her that the fawn had been
diseased. It died when the herd was driven to the river
and the carcass had been buried there as it was unfit for
food. She suspected this was told to placate her; she knew
Cherfan and the others were growing tired of her sus-

184

picions. She gave up the search, finally deciding that trying
to discover the animal's fate would cost too much resent-
ment and further divide the clan.

She found herself turning more and more to Thakur and
his family of treelings as a relief from the burden of her
leadership. Each morning, when the herding teacher went
off to instruct his pupils, she stayed at his den and watched
over Aree and her young ones until he returned,      t

At first, when the youngsters were too small co leave
the nest, Ratha found her task easy and pleasant. They
would nurse and sleep, although sometimes Aree would
take them out into the morning sun to creep about and
stare at the world with wide eyes. Like cubs, they were
intensely curious and aware of everything around them.
Ratha knew, however, that their awareness was not like
that of the Named.

As the treelings grew older, the differences between
them began to show. The larger of the two males was
placid and even-tempered, while his brother made up for
his small size with a bullying aggressive nature. Both the
little females of the litter were lively and inquisitive, al-
though one sister was reckless, tending to shred the ob-
jects of her curiosity, while the other would gaze at
flowers or insects without touching them. She seemed to
know how to be gentle without needing to be taught.

At first, Ratha was attracted to the larger and bolder
of the two sisters. The young treeling shared qualities she
had herself and which she thought she might want in a
companion. She was stronger and had a beautifully marked
pelt and distinctive masking around her muzzle. She was
also adventurous, having been the first to come out of
the nest. Aree was forever having to seize her tail and
yank her out of trouble.

185

* v
-%,

Although Ratha enjoyed the bigger female's rough-
and-tumble piay, she often felt her gaze wandering to
the smaller sister. The little female's fur was less rich in
color and her markings more subdued, but her gentle
nature seemed to feed Ratha's hunger for affection in a
way that even Thakur's companionship could not. The
little [reeling could sense when Ratha was troubled and
would come to cuddle against her before settling down to
groom her fur.

She wasn't sure when she decided that the little tree-
ling was to be her companion. Perhaps it was when Thakur
noticed the growing friendship and in a teasing way began
to call the youngster "Ratha's Aree." Since Ratha could
think of nothing better, she finally accepted the name. It
was easier for her to blend the two words into one, so
after a while, she began to call the little treeling "Rath-
aree."

The ripening season soon started, and Aree climbed
trees eagerly to gather fruit. At first, the young treelings
disdained this new food, but they were growing too big
to nurse and the sweet smell began to tempt them- It
was not long before they were eating fruit with as much
gusro as their mother.

From birth, the young treelings knew fire. Its glow
nickered on the wall of the den above their nest, and they
became as used to the smell and sound as they were to
their own mother. When the litter was old enough for
Aree to leave them for long periods, Thakur again began
to teach her how to care for the Red Tongue. Soon they
had an audience of youngsters, who attended each teaching
session and watched their mother's training with eager
curiosity.

Both Thakur and Ratha welcomed this interest and

186

began to test the little creatures for evidence of Arce's
ability. They did this carefully and gradually, using the
same methods that Thakur had used with Aree. Like
their mother, the youngsters quickly discovered that the
Red Tongue's warmth could be strong enough to hurt, but
if they were careful, they would not be injured.   „ -

Ratha feared that her little treeling, Ratharee, might
be too timid to train as a fire-bearer. She was indeed mere
cautious than the others, but underneath her shyness was
a certain streak of determination. Like her siblings, she
wanted to imitate her mother's prowess, and Ratha nuz-
zled her and praised her each time she made an effort to
overcome her reticence.

Once it was evident that Aree's youngsters could be
taught the same skills as their mother, Thakur and Racha
began to devote more teaching time to them. She found
thai he was a much better teacher than she, for he had
the experience and the patience to repeat commands and
actions endlessly until the pupil finally accepted and under-
stood. Her own impatience often made her blunder, and
she struggled hard to control it. Gradually she found
herself more able to master her temper, especially with
her own treeling Ratharee. The affection she felt for her
little companion helped to keep her sense of urgency in
check.

Urgency? Yes. Neither Ratha nor Thakur said it aloud.
but both shared a feeling that training the treelings was
important. How quickly it was done might affect what
happened in the days to come. Fessran's old objection to
depending on Aree alone was valid, but now that they
had five treelings, the risk was much less. Thakur's con-
tinued training had made Aree herself much more de-
pendable and less likely to do something unexpected,

187

such as the antics she had performed around the Fire-
keepers. But Ratha did have to grin when she remembered
the expressions on the faces of the torchbearers.

Surely when Fessran saw that Aree and her youngsters
could do, she would accept their services. Perhaps she
would choose a treeling for herself, although Thakur
might be reluctant to give one to Shongshar.

Aree was ready. Now all that remained was to get Fess-
ran to bring the Firekeepers down for another demon-
stration, Ratha thought, but she found that doing so was
harder than she had anticipated. The Firekeeper leader
spent most of her time in the cave by the falls, watching
those who came to pay homage to the Red Tongue.
Shongshar was always with her, and in his presence she
seemed to change, becoming haughty and imperious. Yet
Ratha often caught a sudden look of misery on her face,
as if she sensed the effect he had on her.

He never seemed to let her out of his sight, accompany-
ing her down to the meadow to eat or going with her to
give orders to those who built the guard-fires. Recently,
he had begun to interrupt her or answer for her when
she spoke to anyone else, although he still treated her
with a deference that seemed exaggerated and sometimes
strangely sinister. It was difficult to get Fessran alone and,
even then, she seemed ill-at-ease and unwilling to talk.

Ratha finally bullied her away from Shongshar long
enough to get her to agree to see Aree's new skills. But
Fessran was deliberately vague about when the meeting
would take place. At last, Ratha could wait no longer.
She sent word by the Firekeeper Bira that Thakur would
set up a demonstration for the evening of the following
day. She built a fire near his den at sunset and selected the
best pine sticks for the treelings to use as torches- Thakur

188

drilled Aree one more time and then they settled down to
wait.

The night had grown cold and the fire fallen low
before Ratha admitted to herself that Fessran wasn't going
to come- She stopped her angry pacing and let Ratharee
climb down from her back.

"I'm going up to the cave," she said, staring out of
the circle of firelight to where the path led away from
Thakur's lair.

"I don't think that would be wise, Ratha," he said
softly.

"Fessran will not disobey me when she looks into my
eyes. I am tired of sidelong looks and all this sneaking
around."

"Then let me come with you. The trail can be treacher-
ous at night."

"The only treachery is within that den of belly-
crawlers," Ratha growled. "No, you stay here with Aree
and her little ones. Keep the fire going undl I return with
Fessran. I won't be gone long."

She heard him sigh and turn away, but she was too
angry for his words to hold her back, or even to think
that her hasty actions might place him in danger.

She leaped away into the night, her rage giving her
speed. There was no moon that night and the trees that
overhung the creek trail made the path so black that she
followed it by smell and by feel, rather than by sight. The
dark made the way seem steeper, with far more turns and
twists than in daylight. She brushed against dew-dampened
ferns whose couch, once gentle, now seemed ominous and
threatening.

Exhaustion rook away some of her anger, and she be-
gan to think whether Thakur had been right after alL She

189

also began to wonder if she should have left him without
anyone else to help guard the treelings.

She climbed the last pan of the trail, with her paws
slipping on gravel made slick by spray and the booming
of the fall in her ears. There was another sound, which
grew louder as she approached the cave: the harsh roar
of the Red Tongue.

Shadowy orange light spilling from the cave backlit
the forms of the two Firekeepers who stood guard before
the entrance. They rose, growling, but their challenge died
to a mutter as they caught her smell.

"You have come co crouch before the Red Tongue, clan
leader?"

"No. I have come to see Fessran."

The speaker glanced at his companion, who looked
doubtfully back. "Before you enter, clan leader, there are
some things you must not do . . ." He faltered under
Ratha's glare and his ears twitched back.

"You dare tell me what I may do before the creature
that I brought to the clan? Ptaah!" She lunged at them,
striking out with reeth and claws.

Before either of the guards could recover, she was past
them and into the gallery leading to the cave. She could
tell at once that the fire was much larger than it had
been. She could see her shadow on the rock Soor of the
gallery. A steady wind from outside blew past her, drawn
to feed the hunger of the fire-creature.

Despite her anger, she hesitated. The light ahead
dazzled her, and the hear swept over her in parching
waves. For a moment, the fire seemed to hold her back;

then her anger flared, forcing the fear aside.

She was in the cave itself. The Red Tongue's harsh
and constant song filled the cavern and echoed back from

190

the other chambers. The great fire reared up as if it was
the central pillar that supported the cave, a writhing
column of yellow and gold seeming to reach from floor
to vaulted ceiling.

It lit the stone fangs that hung from the ceiling, turn-
ing them to a gleaming yellow that made them look even
more like teeth in the mouth of a great and terrible
creature.

Ratha was so awed by the Red Tongue itself that she
almost didn't see the shapes that gathered around it. Their
shadows stretched out toward her, wavering and dancing
over the rubble-strewn floor until they passed over her.
At first she thought the figures were Firekeepers stoking
the great flame, but as she crept closer and her eyes grew
accustomed to the fierce light, she saw that they were
moving together in a circle around the fire. Their move-
ments were slow and rhythmic, as if they were beginning
a dance.

The longer Ratha watched, the more she was con-
vinced that this was a dance, but one such as she had never
seen. She remembered die dance-hunts she had used
to celebrate the victory of the clan over the Un-Named.
Those had been fierce and wild, but even the intensity of
the dance-hunt didn't have the frenzy and fierceness of
this.

The dancers leaped, lashed their flanks with their tails
and struck out with their claws as if against some unseen
but hated enemy. They reared up on their hind paws and
reached toward the ceiling, twisting and writhing in the
heat as if they themselves were the branches that were
being consumed by the fire-creature in its endless hunger.

They shrieked aloud, and whether it was joy or terror
in those cries, Ratha did not know. Their faces bore a look

191

that none of the Named had ever held before, a look that
was nearly madness. It was the wish to join themselves
with the power of something far greater than themselves,
even if it meant: the sacrifice of their own wills.

The pounding rush and roar formed a rhythm for the
dance, and even Ratha felt the strange tug of wild ecstasy
that filled the eyes and bodies of the dancers. Amid the
leaping figures, Ratha saw Fessran herself, her mouth
stretched open in a cry of celebration to the power of the
Red Tongue. She bounded higher than Ratha had ever
seen her leap before, twisted herself in impossible ways
and came so near the fire that Ratha trembled for fear
she would fall in.

Ratha was so absorbed by the fire-dance that she
didn't hear someone creep up behind her until his voice
was in her ear.

"Yesss," he hissed. "Watch. Watch how it draws them,
how it makes them dance. Look how it inspires them,
clan leader, in a way that you cannot."

Ratha flinched away from Shongshar, but she was too
dazed by the scene to do more than take a swipe at him.
When her attention swung back to the dancers, he sidled
up to her and began to speak again, his words blending
in some strange way into the cries of the dancers and the
harsh song of the fire. Hypnotized, she listened, unable
to break the trance that had fallen across her-

"What is the skill of treelings compared to this?"
Shongshar whispered. "Ah, clan leader, you never under-
stood the real power of the creature you tamed. You left
that understanding to me."

Ratha shuddered, but she could not take her eyes from
the frenzied circle around the Red Tongue, nor could she
block his voice from her ears-

192

"See what it does to your people. See how it pushes
them beyond themselves. See how it takes them and fills
them with strength and joy so that they have to leap and
cry out. Join them, clan leader. Join them in their dance
to the Red Tongue."

Angrily, Ratha spat at him and her slash drew blood,
but he didn't strike back. She could see in his eyes that
he knew she trembled. Her smell betrayed everything:

rage, helplessness, fear, disgust and horrified fascination.
She could see in his half-closed eyes that he knew she
was close to the edge and that he would only have to wait
for her to fall.

"Your mistake, clan leader," he said softly, "is in think-
ing that the fire-crearure is Just something to be used to
protect us against the Un-Named Ones and to warm us by
night. It is that, but it is something much more."

"It is the egg of a fly that turns a carcass rotten. It is
the wound that starts an abscess under the skin," she
hissed, desperately seeking the strength of her anger and
trying not to see how high the Firekeepers leaped in the
terrifying beauty of the dance.

"If that is how you choose to think of it, clan leader,"
Shongshar said placidly.

"Why aren't you part of the dance?" Ratha demanded,
but even as she spoke, she knew the answer. One who
understood the Red Tongue's power as well as he did
would not be easily controlled by it.

"I am pan of it in my own way," he said and as he
spoke the firelight flashed on his sabers, reminding her
that he did not need any power other than his own to be
dangerous. He eyed her and grinned at her discomfort.
"Perhaps you shouldn't wait for the dance to finish, clan
leader. You've left Thakur alone with the treeling crea-

193

tures. Since you seem to value them for reasons I don't
quite understand, you wouldn't want anything to happen
to them, would you?"

Ratha stiffened, her rage paralyzing her tongue. "You
wouldn't dare!" she finally spat.

"Me? Certainly not. But there are others who dislike
the idea of the clan leader dirtying herself with those
animals."

"And you wouldn't raise a paw to stop anyone from
doing such a thing. Let me tell you this, Shongshar. If
any one of the Firekeepers even makes a threat against
Thakur or his treelings, this cave will be closed down and
the Red Tongue will die. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, I do," he said in a silky voice that was almost a
purr. "But to be sure. I would also ask them." He flicked
his whiskers at the dancers. His voice hardened. "And
then I would ask them who they obey. It might surprise
you, clan leader."

His eyes still held their same orange glint, but now a
cold ruthlessness came into them. Their hace struck into
Rarha as if he had slashed her with his fangs, and she
backed away from him, trembling with fear and the
cold certainty that she had left Thakur and the treelings
open to attack.

She whirled and sprinted away from him, across the
shadows that still danced and nickered on the cave floor,
through the gallery and out into the darkness. The fire-
creature's fading roar became a mocking howl as she
slipped and skidded on the graveled trail and fought to
find her way with eyes that had been made night-blind by
the angry light.

Thakur, you told. me not to go and again you were
right. I was too angry to listen, but anger does me no

194

good now. There was a bright spot before her eyes where
she had looked at the heart of the cave-fire, and she could
only see in front or her by. turning her head from side to
side as she ran. By the time she reached the path to
Thakur's den, her sight had recovered, but she could not
find the welcoming flicker of the little fire she had left

with him.

She thought at first that her panic might have led her

down the wrong trail, but the scents about her and the
feel of the ground were right. She peered ahead, her grow-
ing apprehension choking her throat and tightening her
chest. The smell of smoldering ashes drew her to the re-
mains of the fire she had left. It had been broken and

scattered.

The ashy acrid smell was strong, and mixed in with it

were traces of other scents that she could detect but not
recognize. There were pugmarks faintly visible in the
starlight, but they were smeared, as if whoever made

them had slipped while running.

"Thakur . . . ," she moaned softly, her whiskers trem-
bling. "Aree . . . Ratharee . . ." She approached a shape
on the ground and touched it tentatively with her paw,
fearing it might be the torn body of a (reeling. It was
only a broken branch from the scattered fire, and she
sighed with relief as it rolled under her paw.

She made her way to the den itself and crawled inside,
thinking a (reeling might have taken shelter there, but
the den was cold and empty except for the same ashy smell

that filled the air outside.

When Racha left the den she froze at the sight of two

amber eyes scaring at her from the night-shadow of a tree.
The eyes blinked and moved forward. Ratha arched her

195

back and flared her tail, unable to catch the newcomer's
scent in the wind that blew away from her.

"Clan leader?" The voice was female and quavery with
uncertainty.

"Who is that?" Ratha snarled. "Are you a Firekeeper?"

"I'm Bira. Clan leader, come with me. I know where
Thakur is."

Her first impulse was to follow Bira eagerly, but cau-
tion held her back. Young and friendly as Bira was, she
belonged with those who tended the Red Tongue.

"How do I know that Shongshar hasn't sent you?"

"He sent me down with those who were to kill the
treelings, but I turned on them and fought beside Thakur,"
Bira answered. "If you want proof, here is the ash that I
rubbed into my pelt to disguise myself like them, and here
is the bite on my foreleg from Nyang's teeth."

Bira came forward, letting Ratha smell her fur- As she
approached, Ratha saw a small shape crouched on Bira's
neck. "Thakur told me to bring your treeling, and she
came with me, even though she was still frightened," said
the young Firekeeper. "Here." She came alongside and
Ratha felt treeling paws grasp her fur as Ratharee climbed
from Bira's back to hers. The treeling wound its tail around
her neck and hugged her fiercely, its trembling telling her
how lost and frightened it had been.

Ratha suddenly felt steadier. Bira wouldn't have
brought Ratharee in order to lead her into a trap. If Shong-
shar wanted to have her killed, there were other, easier
ways. The young female's story sounded true and there
was no taint of deceit in either her words or her smell.

"Hurry, clan leader! Once Shongshar knows I have
betrayed him, he will send others after me."

196

"All right, Bira. Take me to Thakur."

She followed Bira down the path undl it met the main
trail. As soon as Bira took the turn that led to the creek
trail, Ratha's suspicion flared again, and she followed
warily, testing the air for scents of hidden attackers. Soon.
however, Bira cut off the creek trail and began to climb
the steep bank above it. Before long they were in die
deeper darkness amid the great trees, and Ratha's paws
fell on crumbled bark and pine needles.

Ratha sensed they were making a wide circle to avoid
the base of the falls and the cave that sheltered the Red
Tongue. She wondered if Fessran and the others were still
at their wild dance. The thought made her shiver.

"We're going to some little caves above the falls. I
found them one day when I was exploring, and no one
else knows about them," Bira explained as .Ratha padded
beside her. "I brought Thakur up this far, told him where
to find the place and then went back down to look for
you."

"Did you save all the treelings?"

"Yes. One of the little ones got a scratch and Aree's a
bit bruised, but they're all right."

Some of the tension seeped out of Ratha and she con-
centrated on climbing. At last they found an old trail that
had many rises and drops as well as endless switchbacks.
Ratha was sure they must be far beyond clan ground when
Bira turned off the path and disappeared down a brush-
covered slope. The way led into a little vale with the
sound of a brook chuckling over rocks and the glint of
starlight on foaming water. Bira ran along the near bank
and ducked under a great gray slab of broken rock.

Now Ratha could throw her fear aside, for Thakur's
scent was strong in the air about the streambank. Beneath

197

the overhang were small recesses that barely qualified as
caves. She found Thakur and the treelings nestled together
in the largest one.

"Shh, Aree. It's only Ratha," he soothed as the largest
of the [reeling shapes lifted its muzzle in alarm. He shifted
over to make room for Ratha on the soft sandy floor. Her
relief at seeing him safe overwhelmed her, and for a while
she could only crouch beside him, licking his ears, and
saying, "Thakur, I should have listened. I should have
listened," over and over.

"Well, I was lucky," he said when she finally calmed
down. 'The Firekeepers weren't really after me. Just the
treelings. And when Bira turned and started helping me
fight, that really confused them. That gave us time to
gather up the treelings and run."

"We nearly lost Aree," added the young Firekeeper.
"When Nyang scratched one of her cubs, she flew at him
and bit him hard. You should have heard him yell."

"Nyang again," Ratha said with distaste. "He will do
anything for Shongshar, won't he? I imagine he was the
one who pushed Bundi into the fire."

"He led us," said Bira. "He showed us how to rub
ashes inro our pelts so that no one could smell who we
were, I hate the taste and feel of it; I'm going to wash my-
self in the stream tomorrow."

"Bira," Ratha said slowly, "I'm grateful to you for
what you did. You had no reason to want to help me. You
wouldn't have had a witless liner if I hadn't let Shong-
shar into the clan."

"You took your chance, clan leader, and I took mine,"
Bira answered. "I grieved for that litter, but now they are
gone I don't think of them any more. As for Thakur, I was
the one who built the fire for him when he was teaching

198

Aree. I liked him and I liked the treelings too much to let
Shongshar kill them, so I tried to make Nyang think I
was fierce and nasty enough for his group of killers. It
wasn't easy," she added with a grimace that narrowed the
glow of her eyes.

"I think," said Thakur firmly, "that we should get some
sleep. Whatever is happening has just begun, and we are
going to need all our strength and cleverness tomorrow."

Although his words sounded somber, Ratha was too
tired to worry. Bira offered to stand guard through the
first part of the night and Thakur said he would take the
following watch. He hadn't finished speaking when his
voice became a drone that faded in Ratha's ears as she slid
into sleep.

She woke suddenly, shaking away the dream-image of
a huge fire with grotesque black figures leaping through
the flames. She opened her eyes and gratefully breathed
the air of a quiet morning. Somewhere a bird trilled a
high sweet note over the merry noise of the stream. Bira
slept alongside, her head on her paws, her flanks rising
and falling slowly. Ratharee was curled between them, the
rreeling's brown-black fur contrasting with Bira's ash-
streaked red and Ratha's own fawn color.

She lifted her muzzle and focused on Thakur, who was
sitting Just outside the little cave. Ratha yawned and then
crept out, trying not to disturb either Bira or the treelings.
She stretched, gathering herself together for the new day.

"No one knows what happened last night except Shong-
shar, Nyang's group of Firekeepers and ourselves," she
said thoughtfully. "None of them are going to tell any-
one, especially since their attempt was a failure, thanks to
Bira."

199

Ą

jr

"What are you going to do?" asked Thakur. "Talk to
Fessran?"

Ratha fell silent. After seeing the Firekeeper leader
in her frenzied dance before the Red Tongue, she doubted
that Fessran would listen to anything about treelings or
even about Shongshar's misdeeds.

"No," she said. "I'm going to talk to the herders and
tell them what Shongshar is up to. Then I'm going to
tead them up the creek trail and take all the wood out of
the cave. Without wood, the cave-fire will die and so will
Shongshar's power. We'll see who obeys him then!"

"It may not be so easy." The herding teacher looked
at her, his eyes full of doubt.

"It won't be, but if I can hold the loyalty of the
herders, I can do it. Come with me, Thakur- Cherfan and
the other herders will be more likely to listen to me if
you are there."

"And I am less likely to get pounced upon by Nyang
and his pack of Firekeepers," said Thakur dryly and added,
"I didn't think I would do much teaching today."

"Can we trust Bira to stay with the treelings?"

"Yes. She's no longer a Firekeeper. They wouldn't
take her back after she turned on them to help me.
Nyang's probably looking for her, and she knows she's
safe here."

Ratha stared into the cave, taking one last look at
Ratharee. "I hope Bira can keep the treelings safe." She
turned to face Thakur and felt a shiver at the solemn look
on his face.

"You aren't sure alx)ut this either, are you."

"No," he admitted.

There was nothing else to be said. She led the way out

200

from under the overhang, and they waded in the stream
for a distance so that their scents and prints wouldn't lead
anyone to Bira. Then they cut back to the trail and set off
downhill for the meadow.

CHAPTER







RATHA AND THAKUR didn't meet anyone on
the trails they took. Even the path to the meadow
was deserted and, when Ratha reached the (railhead and
gazed out across the grass, she sensed a tense stillness in
the morning air.

She saw the dapplebacks and three-horns gathered in
a tight flock instead of being scattered across the pasture
as they usually were in the morning. Around the edge of
the meadow, several guard-fires still burned. That was
strange, she thought. Usually the Firekeepers put them
out after sunrise.

The herdbeasts didn't like being confined to such a
small area of meadow. Ratha could hear the three-horns
bray and paw the ground, while the dapplebacks snorted
and whinnied. A few herders circled the animals, trotting
around the flock co keep it together. The others were
nowhere in sight.

"Ratha!" A deep voice drew her attention away from
the animals- Cherfan bounded toward her over the grass.
She could tell from the urgency in the big border's stride
and the way his whiskers trembled that he was worried.

201

"Where is everyone, Cherfan?" Thakur asked calmly.

"Behind the big thorn thicket near the far end of the
meadow. Someone killed a dappleback early this morn-
ing," he said, turning to Ratha.

"Un-Named raiders? Bristlemanes?"

"I don't think so. Nothing broke through the line of
guard-fires."

Ratha began pacing beside him with Thakur at her
flank. "Have you found the carcass?"

"No, but we found the place where the animal was
brought down." Cherfan broke into a fast lope and Ratha
galloped beside him until they reached the thornbush.
Behind it was a hidden stretch of meadow and she could
tell by the torn and flattened grass that the herdbeast had
died here.

Gathered around the spot were the rest of the herders,
sniffing the ground and exchanging puzzled looks. Cher-
fan stepped into their midst, waving his tail. He stopped
and looked them over carefully. "That's strange," be
growled. "We're missing someone. Where's Shoman?"

The herders muttered among themselves and soon
confirmed that Shoman was not helping to guard the
remaining animals, nor was he anywhere else in the
meadow. In fact, no one remembered having seen him
since the middle of the night.

"And Bundi's not here either," said Thakur abruptly.

"There's something else I don't understand." Cherfan
narrowed his eyes. "We keep the dapplebacks out in the
center of the meadow during the night. We don't let them
go behind these bushes; it's too easy for them to wander
away. If someone killed a mare here, he would have had
to drive it away from the flock and the beast would have
fought and made enough noise to bring all of us running."

202

"Unless it was lured here by someone it knew," said
Rarha.

"All right. The dappleback may have been lured here
and then killed, but none of us heard ir scream. A dapple-
back will cry out when it feels the touch of fangs."

"Not if there are a pair of attackers," Thakur said
quickly. "One lures the beast while the other hides. When
the beast is distracted, die other leaps out and bites be-
hind the head. The creature dies quickly and quietly. I've
used the same method in culling."

Cherfan wrinkled the fur on his brow. "Shoman . . .
and Bundi? Perhaps Shoman would do such a dung. I've
never trusted him. But Bundi?"

"I caught Shoman with a piece of meat he was using
to bribe a Firekeeper," Radia reminded him. "Bundi was
with him. He said they were both being shunned by the
rest of you because of their injuries from the Red Tongue."

"Shoman killed that dappleback to revenge himself on
us?" Cherfan's puzzlement began to give way to anger.

"Not for revenge," said Radia. "I dunk he was forced
to lure it here and kill it."

"Forced? By whom? And where is the meat? He and
Bundi couldn't have eaten it by themselves."

Racha glanced at Thakur, then turned her gaze back
to Cherfan. "You will find the carcass in the cave where
the Red Tongue is kept."

A wave of mutters and growls spread through the
herders. Some looked uncertain while others raised the
fur on their napes and showed their fangs. Cherfan flat-
tened his ears. "You're saying that Shoman killed the beast
for Shongshar and Fessran? Why?"

"Because he and Bundi were made outcasts by the Red

203

Tongue's mark and sought to placate the Firekeepers by
any way possible. Shongshar knew his desperation and
used him," Ratha hissed.

A wave of muttering and growling spread among the
herders. Cherfan flattened his ears. "No one is allowed to
kill herdbeasts without your order."

"And I did not order anyone to take that animal," said
Ratha, scaring meaningfully at the other herders. "Shong-
shar and Fessran have disobeyed me and clan law. The
carcass is stolen meat and they have no right to it. If the
Firekeepers are left unpunished, they will steal again and
the rest of us will go hungry." She paused and then
growled, "Do you want to hear your bellies rumble be-
cause of the Firekeepers' greed?"

"No!" came the answer in many voices. "Lead us to the
cave and we will take back the stolen meat."

"Listen to me," cried Ratha. "It is the Red Tongue in
the cave that gives the Firekeepers their strengdi. They
have stored wood there to feed it. If we take back the
wood as well as the meat, the cave-fire will starve and
die."

"We will take back what they have stolen!"

"You do not fear die Firekeepers?"

A chorus of roars and howls rose from the group.
"There are more of us than diere are of them. To the
cave!"

With Thakur and Cherfan flanking her, Ratha led the
outraged herders up the creek craiL At first the group was
boisterous and noisy, but as they drew close enough to
hear the song of the Red Tongue, they became quiet.
Uncertain looks passed back and forth among the herders

204

and Ratha knew that the sense of awe that subdued those
who came before the fire-creature was creeping over them

again.

Thakur could sense it too, for he put his muzzle to her
ear and whispered, "Don't hesitate, Ratha, or these brave
herders will desert us." '

She was grateful for the smell of dappleback meat that
lingered in the air along the path. The scent fanned the
herders' anger anew and kept them pacing steadily behind
her. When they reached the last stretch of the trail, Ratha
whispered her final instructions.

With a roar as loud as the booming of the falls, her
pack charged the cave entrance and the two Firekeeper
guards. The guards tried to fight, but only managed to
avoid being trampled as the herders knocked them aside
and surged into the cave.

Again the fire-creature rose up before her, writhing
and hissing like a live thing, but this time, Ratha was too
angry to be cowed by the sight. She looked beyond the fire
to where a group of Firekeepers pulled and tore at a
half-stripped carcass. Nyang lifted his head, his muzzle
ash-streaked and bloody. Fessran dropped the haunch she
was chewing and stood up while the others glared back
at Ratha over the bared ribs of the kill

Only Shongshar continued to eat, holding a chunk of
liver between his paws and slicing it with his side teeth.
Ratha could hear muffled growls among the herders, but
none of them came forward to challenge the Firekeepers
at their feast. Many of them glanced uneasily at the Red
Tongue in the center of the cave, as if expecting it to leap
out and sear the first herder who made a move.

.Ratha turned her gaze to Fessran. Fessran stared back
haughtily, but a flicker of guilt crossed her face. "This

205

meat is forbidden," Ratha said in a voice that echoed
around the walls of the cavern. "Leave it."

Some of the Firekeepers exchanged glances and a few
backed away from the kill.

"No!" Fessran leaped over the carcass and stood before
it, lashing her tail. "We who serve the Red Tongue have
taken what is rightfully ours. Eat without shame, Fire-
keepers, for it is the creature that we tend that guards
the herd from raiders."

"Yes, Fessran. Tell them to eat without shame from a
beast killed wrongly and dragged to a cave in secret,"
Ratha snarled.

"When those who keep the herdbeasts hold back meat
from us who watch the guard-fires, then we have a right
to such a kill," cried Nyang, from behind Fessran.

"Ptahh! All in the clan have an equal chance to fill
their bellies when the kill is eaten where it falls. Any-
thing else is greed or arrogance, litterlmg." Ratha glared
at Nyang, but he ducked behind. Fessran.

"What you think is equal, clan leader, is not enough
for us," Fessran said. "Serving the Red Tongue is difficult
work, and it is a long way to the meadow."

Ratha spat again. "You shame yourself by speaking
lies you don't even believe, Firekeeper leader. You know
as well as I that to steal and hoard meat from a kill is an
act that strikes out against the clan and my leadership."
She met their stares one by one until she fixed her eyes on
Fessran. "Who ordered that herdbeast to be taken without
my knowledge. Was it you, Fessran?"

"The beast was killed by herders." The Firekeeper
leader spoke sullenly.

"Yes, by a pair of herders who were told that they had
to lure the beast and slaughter it in return for being al-

206

lowed to enter this cave. In return for being allowed to
crouch before the creature that I brought to serve the
Named, but which now has birched a Utter that feeds from
us like cubs from their mother."

"You dare!" Fessran's eyes were blazing. "You dare to
speak of us that way. We serve the power of the Red
Tongue, clan leader, and that power answers to none

except itself!"

Ratha waited until the echoes of Fessran's voice had
faded into the hollow roar of the cave-fire. "Are those
words your own, Firekeeper?" she asked with bitter sor-
row thick in her throat. "Did you force Shoman and
Bundi to make that kill?"

Fessran tried to answer, but the word would not leave
her tongue. She stood, shaking, staring down at the floor

between her feet.

"I did. I did!" screamed Nyang, lunging over the kill

to face Ratha. His face, stained with blood and distorted
by hace, was no longer that of an older cub but of some-
one filled with menace and malevolence.

"No, you wretched cub!" Fessran seized his scruff as
he crouched to spring at Racha and wrenched him off his
feet. She threw him aside with a powerful toss of her head
and flattened her ears at him. He crawled away, his eyes

smoldering.

Ratha's stare was suddenly drawn to Shongshar, who
had finished the dappleback's liver and now sat up. He
began to clean his paws, but he interrupted this task to
lift his head and fix his gaze on Ratha.

She felt as though she could fall into those eyes and be
consumed by the flame that burned behind them, without
leaving so much as a charred bone. The orange in them
shimmered and writhed as if she saw into them through

207

waves of terrible heat. Now she knew where the true
power of the Red Tongue lay. Not in the fire burning
within the cave, but in the depths of those eyes.

She knew that she had helped to lay the kindling for
this fire of the spirit that had taken grief into its fierce
heart and blackened it into hate. The herders saw it coo
and many turned their faces away from him.

"Shongshar," she said softly, yet her voice seemed to
ring about her in the cavern.

"The order to kill the dappleback was mine, clan
leader," he answered and continued to lick his paw.

"Why?"

"So that the Firekeepers might feast. The herding
teacher beside you knows that cubs learn well if they have
had enough to eat, and they are more willing to listen to
the one who has fed them."

Ratha waited. Shongshar paced forward and took Fess-
ran's place without even looking at her. She melted away
from him with a frightened glance that left no doubt who
was the real leader of the Firekeepers.

Shongshar spoke again. 'The beast was not killed just
for food, clan leader. There is another kind of hunger in
your people, and it is one that a full belly will not satisfy.
You do not understand this hunger, and you have done
nothing to feed it. But it is a hunger that I know welL"

Rariha shivered, held against her will by the spell of his
voice and the depths of his eyes.

"Look around you, and you will see it in the eyes of
your herders as well as the Firekeepers," said Shongshar,
with a strange compelling rhythm in his speech. "Look
within you and you will see it there."

Despite herself, Ratha found her gaze traveling over
the faces of the herders. They were silent, held as she was

208

by the sibilant sound of Shongshar's voice. And yes, he
was right. In their faces, in their eyes and even in the
changing scenes of their smells, she felt a longing that
perhaps had always been there, or perhaps had just been
conjured out of them by the power of his words. She
didn't know which it was, and that knowledge made her
afraid.

Within herself she sensed the same hunger, a feeling
that she had never been able to put words to. It was a
strange hunger that crept up inside her when she was
alone looking up at the scars- It had come upon her when
she had first sought a mate; in the closeness with him, it
had nearly been filled. And it was the same hunger that
drew her to the dance she had seen around the Red Tongue
even as she had feared it.

And she knew that the search to satisfy this strange
need could lead to things that were good, such as seeing
the fluffy beauty of a newborn cub or the sheen of a dap-
pleback stallion's coat as he pranced about the meadow.
Yet the same hunger could be twisted into something that
could nourish in the depths of a cave, feeding on hatred
amidst bones and tainted flesh.

Shongshar knew how to feed it; she had no doubt of
that. It was as if he had fathered a litter that suckled
not milk, but blood. Her horror and her anger gave her
the strength to tear her gaze away from his and turn his
words aside.

"Herders! Listen to me!" she cried. "The need he
speaks of is really his own. If you give yourselves and your
beasts 0 the will of the creature he serves, you will be
the meat that feeds him."

"No!" the borders cried, but many voices were missing,
and those she heard sounded thin and ragged with doubt.

209

It was too late to command them to attack the Firekeepers.
She didn't know how many of the herders who had spoken
so bravely down in the meadow would stand by her if it
came to an open battle. Even as they stood beside her,
she sensed their courage being stolen from them by the
raging creature in the center of the cave from which
Shongshar drew his power. It was there that she would
have to strike.

"The wood," whispered Thakur softly behind her.
"They have forgotten about it,"

She glanced at the side of the cave, to where stacks of
branches and kindling lay. Then she looked at the herders
and hoped they would follow her. With Thakur at her
flank, she leaped up and galloped toward the woodpile.

For an instant she thought she and Thakur would have
to face the Firekeepers alone. Then Cherfan plunged
after her and the herders followed. They reached the wood-
pile before the Other side could rally and cut them off.
Ratha saw that the Firekeepers had mistaken the herders'
charge for an attack on the carcass and had massed to-
gether to defend their kill.

"Form a line so none of them can get through," Ratha
said and her pack spread themselves out, guarding the
woodpile, Nyang and several other Firekeepers ap-
proached, but they soon recreated from the menacing
growls and bared fangs of the defenders.

She paced across in front of her own line and faced
Shongshar. He looked at her and said nothing as she sat
and curled her tail across her feet.

"You may eat, Firekeepers," she said, turning her gaze
toward them, "but this will be your last meal in this cave
by the Red Tongue's light."

Her words were met with snarls and jeers. Soon, how-

210

ever, the Firekeepers grew tired of taunting her pack and
turned their attention to the kill, dragging it around on
die cave Soor as they wrenched chunks of flesh loose and
gulped them down. They did not seem to notice that the
fire had already begun to fall and that their shadows were
growing longer. Only Shongshar did not eat with them.
He sat and watched the herders through slitted eyes.

When die carcass was stripped, the Firekeepers again
amused themselves by throwing insults at the herders and
trying to break through their line, but Racha could see
that the effort was half-hearted. The grim response the
herders gave them quickly discouraged any idea that this
was run.

Shongshar continued to watch, and Ratha sensed that
he was waiting, for what, she didn't know, and she grew
uneasy. His strength was waning with the felling fire, yet
he made no attempt to launch an attack. He only sat and
studied the herders' faces with an acuceness that made diem
show their fangs and then cry co look away from him.

The Firekeepers groomed themselves, or lay and slept as
if the herders weren't there. Shadows crept in from the
sides of the cave and the dying fife's light turned ruddy.
The fire began to smoke and flicker. The flame no longer
drew the wind from outside, and the cave started to 611
with smoky haze.

Rarba was stiff from sitting and was about to get up
and move to ease her legs when she heard .Shongshar's
voice. It had grown so dim in the cave that she could see
only his eyes, which now burned brighter than the fire.

"Let it die, then, clan leader," he hissed. "Lee it die
and give this den back to darkness. It is better thai we have
nothing to crouch down before or nothing to dance to

211

in wild Joy. It is better that we of the Named turn our
backs on something as great as this, for we are too weak
to hold it within our Jaws."

Ratha heard whispered mutters behind her and the
looks she received were shadowed by doubt. Even Cherfan
seemed lost and gazed at Shongshar as if he might find a
refuge in his words-
She had no answer for Shongshar except stern silence,
and soon his voice came again.

"Watch this creature die, you of the clan, and see the
death of all you could be. The Named could rule far
beyond clan ground and be so fierce and terrible that all
who once preyed on us would either flee or throw them-
selves at our feet. That is the power you are throwing
away if you obey her."

Again voices buzzed behind her, and eyes grew bright
with visions of such a future.

"Be silent!" she hissed, as much at them as at Shong-
shar. The flame sank into its bed of ashes and tumbled
coals. Slowly the fierce red glow faded.

Ratha felt herself start to tremble with the triumph
of her victory. The cave-fire was dead and Shongshar's
power crippled. She waited, feeling the air around her
grow cool.

"It is over," she said, rising. "Firekeepers, leave the

cave."

One by one, they passed in front of her, with lowered
heads and dragging tails until only one was left. Shong-
shar.

"Do you come, or do I have you dragged out?" she

growled.

The two orange slits glared at her from the blackness.

212

His form was a deeper darkness than that of the cave and
she tensed, fearing that he would use the instant that he
passed her to strike out at her.

Suddenly the eyes were gone. She saw them again as
she heard coals break under the slap of his paw.

"You of the clan!" he roared. "Look! It lives!"

A tiny flame burst from the broken embers and grew as
he breathed on it. Then she heard the sound of running
feet, and before she could fling herself toward the fire to
scatter it and beat out the remaining life, she saw that
someone had broken from the borders' ranks* bringing
Shongshar wood and tinder.

Her roar of rage filled the cave and she charged him,
but several more borders had already Joined him and they
threw her back. She struck hard, rolled over, and when
she staggered to her feet again, die flame was rekindled,
surging up with new strength.

Shongshar's roar called the Firekeepers back into the
cave. They mingled with the deserting borders until Ratha
could no longer tell them apart. Even those borders that
tried to stay with her were seized and dragged away from
their positions by the woodpile. She saw Cherfan's despair-
ing look as he was surrounded by Firekeepers and forced
to the back of the cave.

The fire crackled with malicious energy as it consumed
the new offerings of wood that were laid upon it. Ratha
saw by the harsh light that only Thakur stood beside her,
his nape and tail flared, his lips drawn back from his
fangs.

"Take the herding teacher," Shongshar commanded,
standing near the flames. "He is the one who would mock
us by giving the keeping of the Red Tongue to treelings.
Bring him here and have him bare his throat."

213

Nyang led the eager pack that fell on Thakur. Ratha
leaped on them, raking their backs and their ears, but
again she was flung aside and could only look on as
Thakuc fought with savage desperation. He bloodied
several pelts before they subdued him. Teeth fastened on
his scruff, his forelegs, his rail; someone got their jaws
around his muzzle to keep him from biting.

Slowly they dragged him, writhing and kicking, toward
the fire. His claws, dragging on the rock, made a sound
like the death shriek of a herdbeast. There was a gasp
that made Ratha glance toward Fessran and she saw the
Firekeeper's eyes grow wide with horror and helplessness.

Once more she flung herself at Thakur's captors, but
another pack pulled her off and held her. They brought
her close and forced her to watch,

"Now, herding teacher," said Shongshar, leering at
Thakur. "Bare your throat to the Red Tongue."

Again Thakur fought, but again he was stilled. His
captors pulled him closer to the flames and forced his head
back so his throat lay open and exposed.

"I bare it, but it is to you I bare it, Shongshar," he
growled between his teeth. "This talk of serving the Red
Tongue's power is nothing but a lie."

They shook him to silence him. Ratha thought then
that Shongshar would slash Thakur's throat with his long
fangs, but he stepped back from the herding teacher with
satisfaction on his face.

"Good. He has begun to show his loyalty. Hold him.
We will need him to guide us to the renegade Fire-
keeper Bira and the treelings."

He turned, fixing his eyes on Ratha, filling her with an
icy fear that she could not overcome with anger. He began
to pace toward her, seeming to grow with each step.

214

The Firekeepers that held Ratha drew bade. leaving
her alone facing him.

"You are worthy of my fangs, clan leader," he said
softly. "You know I can't leave you alive. If you lie still,
I will be quick."

Ratha dodged his first strike. They circled each other,
ears fiat, tails lashing. She forced her trembling legs to
tighten for a spring and she leaped onto his back, driving
her teeth into the side of his neck. He shuddered, but did
not fall, even as she threw her weight out to drag him
off balance. His blood welled into her mouth, but she
knew her strike was not a killing wound.

He shook her to the side and rolled on her, but she
kept her jaws locked, despite his crushing weight. Her
teeth sank deeper, and she flung her forelegs around his
neck, adding their pull to the strength of her straining
jaws. He wrenched his head back and forth, but he could
not break free, and she thought for an instant that she
might be able to keep her bold until loss of blood weak-
ened him.

He shoved a paw between her chest and his and began
to pry her away. She could not sustain her grip against
his powerful forelegs. She twisced her bead, trying to bite
deeper, but her teeth core from the wound. The great
pressure of his massive paw against her chest threatened
to crush her ribs, and she drew short painful breaths.

She lost her bold and he forced her to the cave floor,
one paw on her neck, the other on her chest. She writhed
and wnggled, but only exhausted herself.

Above her, his teeth gleamed and his eyes burned. His
Jaw dropped far down, exposing the full and terrible
length of his fangs. He lowered his bead, and she felt the

215

hard curve against the pulsing of her throat. His claws
drove into her to hold her still as he reared his head back
for the killing downslash.

"Ratha!" The scream filled the cave. From the corner
of her eye, she saw the circle of herders give way as some-
one burst through. She grunted at the sudden impact of
a body hurtling on top of her own and felt scrabbling
claws as Fessran's smell washed over her.

Ratha caught a glimpse of Shongshar's fangs driving
down toward her; then Fessran heaved and jerked. She felt
the shock as Shongshar struck and heard the shriek of teeth
against bone. She wrenched herself out from beneath
them as a dismayed hiss welled up from those watching.

In her blurred sight, Shongshar lifted his reddened
fangs from the body of the Firekeeper who had once been
her friend.

"I bare my throat to you again, Ratha," Fessran whis-
pered, rolling her head to look up at her. "Forgive my
foolishness."

A sudden commotion broke out near the fire. One of
the Firekeepers guarding Thakur recoiled from his slash.
Using the moment of confusion to break free, he streaked
across the cave floor to Ratha.

"Run!" he cried. She gave Fessran one last, despairing
look and plunged after Thakur as he passed her. They
dashed out of the cavern, down the gallery, and were out
in the sunlight before roars and howls broke from the
cave behind them.

Thakur rushed to the stream that spilled from the base
of the falls, leaping from rock to rock until he was nearly
lost in the spray. She followed, fighting to keep her foot-
ing on slick stones. He ran downstream and leaped onto

216

the bole of a nee that leaned out from the steep slope ris-
ing before them. She sprang up behind him and together
they bounded through the brush until they reached the
crest of the hilL

"That should confuse them," Thakur panted, looking
back. "They'll think we took the trail."

Ratha was too numb to hear his words. She still seemed
to feel the shock and shudder as Fessran took the strike       «

meant for her. Softly she moaned her friend's name aloud-       )
9-
"Ratha." Thakur said. "Ratha, there's no hope for her.       f

Even if he hasn't killed her, she will die soon. Those fangs       "^
went deep."

"I should go back and take my revenge on him. I should
fight for my place as clan leader," she hissed, rage and       J
despair choking her throat.                                   ^

"And there will be another of the Named to lie bleed-       y

__                                                      -5

ing on the floor in the Red Tongue's den. Without you,       ^
neither Bira nor I have any hope. The time is past when       |
you can listen to anger," he said, and Ratha knew he was       $
right.                                                     |

The sound of angry calls below sent them running up       ^
the slope of the next hilL                                    |

"Soon the Firekeepers will find our track," said Thakur.       |.
"We should split up and draw them away from where       ^
Bira and the treelings are hiding."                            ^

"I'll draw them. You circle back, find Bira and tell       ^
her what has happened. Don't worry," she said, at his       s
doubtful look. "I won't try Co turn and fight them. I'll
meet you at the little cave by the stream."                     ^

"All right." He flicked his tail and trotted uphill. After      . {
he was gone, she went back along his path, smearing
out his pugmarks and covering his smell with hers. Satis-
fied that she had concealed his trail, she glanced at the

217

sun and galloped down the slope, away from the cries
that told her that Shongshar and the Firekeepers had
found her tracks.

CHAPTER

17




RESTING BRIEFLY, Ratha leaned on a dew-
dampened rock, laying her cheek against its cool-
ness. She heard the Firekeepers crashing through brush
and dead leaves. She could see the approaching flicker of
their firebrands through the trees and sensed that once
again they were picking up her trail. A shiver that was
half fear and half excitement ran through her.

She was glad, however, that the Firekeepers had chosen
to track her by torchlight. A scent trail, which they might
have followed easily in the damp night air, became difficult
and elusive in the smoky haze from the torches. No.
Shongshar knew better than to think he would catch her
this way. He had brought out the torchbearers to show
the Red Tongue's wrath and let her own fear drive her like
a renegade from clan ground.

She grinned bitterly as she ran across a patch of hair-
ferns that made no rustle to give her away. She had al-
ready seen the worst that the fire-creature could do- It
could burn flesh and bone and even forest, but it could
also possess the minds and twist the wills of her people
as if they were pieces of bark glowing and curling in the
heart of the flame.

218

The sky above the treetops showed deep violet and
the glittering stars were dimming. Racha realized, look-
ing up, that she had been leading the Firekeepers astray
all night. Thakur would have had plenty of time to reach
Bira. It was time to put an end to this cub's play before
daylight gave the searchers additional advantage.

She crept away a Uttle farther and listened. Again they
had come to a halt and were casting about for signs of
her. She spat quietly to herself, disgusted with the noise
they were making, and then slipped away through the
underbrush.

She kept to the edge of clan ground to avoid being
seen by accident. To conceal her trail, she frequently
backtracked, waded in streams and rolled in the dung of
other animals to disguise her smelL

The sun was jusc showing over the treetops when she
reached the sandy path chat led beneath the overhang to
the cave where she, Bira, Thakur and the treelings had
spent the previous night. She had a bad moment when she
discovered that particular hollow empty. She was nerv-
ously searching the Other caves when the sound of
Thakur's voice came from the shadows beneath the over-
hang.

"Over here," he said. "We've moved our hiding place. *

Her relief made her nearly collapse on the sand, but
she only lolled her tongue out and padded after him.

Thakur led her farther upstream, to a smaller fall
where the water cascaded down onto split stones that
turned it into many tumbling rivulets. Ratha turned for
a moment to watch the morning light dance and run
down the falling water. Then she glimpsed Thakur's tail
disappearing between two slabs of rock chat leaned against
each other.

219

She followed him, reluctant ro leave the cheerful morn-
ing and go into the dimness of a cave. When she was
inside, however, she found the tilted stone floor dappled
with sunlight and shadow and felt a breeze that carried
the fresh smell and sound of the little fall. It was sufficient
shelter to keep anyone who hid wichin from being seen,
yet it was open enough not ro feel confining.

Bira lay in a sun-washed hollow with the treelings
gathered around her and on top of her. Ratha looked for
Racharee and saw the young one's black eyes gleam as
Ratharee spotted her. With a squeal of joy, the treeling
scampered up the sloping rock and launched herself at
her companion.

"Ooof. She's getting heavy, Thakur," Ratha groaned,
but she couldn't quite make her voice sound convincingly
plaintive. Once the treeling had taken her usual place on
Ratha's shoulder with her tail curled around her neck,
Ratha stretched out in a pool of sun near Thakur and
Bira.

For a while, they lay there, quietly relaxed, and Ratha
felt herself drifting inro a light doze. Then Thakur sat
up, with Aree perched on his shoulder, and said, "We
must talk."

Ratha yawned and shook away her drowsiness. "Does
Bira know what happened last night?"

"Yes, Thakur told me," Bira answered. "Tm not sur-
prised that the herders deserted you. Shongshar seems
able to persuade anyone to do anything."

"There were some things I should have said," Ratha
growled, laying her head on her paws and feeling the
helplessness and rage sweep over her again. "I should have
told them that his calk about the Named ruling beyond
clan ground was a mad cub's dream. I should have corn

220

apart the herder who brought Shongshar the kindling.
And I should have known that trying to kill the Red
Tongue by starving it was exactly what Shongshar wanted

me to do."

"Extending his rule may not be a mad cub's dream tor
him," said Thakur thoughtfully. "If he can make the
Firekeepers fierce and arrogant, they can hold more ter-
ritory and the herders can graze more animals. This may
be difficult to face, but we have to admit that Shongshar
has offered the Named a way not only to survive, but to
nourish."

"Ptahh! They will be meat for his belly." Ratha spat.
'They will grovel before the fire-creature in the cave and
forget they once had wills ot their own."

"Many of our people would rather follow the com-
mands of a voice stronger than their own, even if it is
cruel and harsh. We of the Named have a strange hate
and an even stranger love for those who are powerful."
Thakur said softly and added, "as you found when you
first brought us this creature we call the Red Tongue."

Ratha sighed. "If I had known then what my creature
would become to them, I never would have—" She
caught herself. "No. Once it was done, there was no way
I could go back."

"And we can't go back now. Shongshar holds the minds
of our people Just as surely as he holds the Red Tongue."

"He is only one and one can die," she snarled fiercely,
making Ratharee start in alarm.

Thakur looked sadly back at her as she soothed her
creeling. "That is not the answer, Ratha. Even if you
succeeded in killing him. Others would carry on his ideas.
To regain your place as clan leader, you would have to

221

destroy the cave and everything in it. I do not know how
thai could be done with only you, Bira and me."

"Are you going to give up and leave our people to
become meat in Shongshar's jaws?" Angry indignation
swept over her.

"Listen to me. Whatever prompted the choice of our
people, they have made it. If you take Shongshar from
them now, you will only earn your own death. Later,
when his ways have made him hated, you may have a
chance. You must wait and watch."

Bira shifted herself as a young (reeling climbed down
from her and went to its mother, who started to groom
it. "I don't think we can stay here," she said. "We are
still on clan ground and, although this place is hidden,
Shongshar will eventually find it."

"I agree," said Thakur. "We must leave clan territory
and live somewhere else for a while. There is a place I
often go when I leave during the mating season. It isn't
that far, and it has fruit trees, which will feed the
treelings."

Reluctantly Ratha agreed with him. Her first thought
had been to make this place their temporary home and
use it to launch forays against the Firekeepers or try to
undermine Shongshar's support among the herders. But
she had to admit that Thakur was right. There wasn't much
that their small group could do with the rest of the clan
against them. It was time now to think not of revenge
but of survival

"How will we live without the herdbeasts and the Red
Tongue?" asked Bira fearfully.

'There are other animals that we can eat," Thakur
answered.

222

"But there arc no herders to cull them for us or to keep
them from running away." Bira turned her worried face

to him.

"You can take them yourself. Haven't you ever stalked

grasshoppers?"

"Yes, but that was a long time ago." The young Fire-
keeper cocked her head at him. "You mean, you can
catch other animals that way? I never thought of that.
Fm so used to eating from the dan kills."

Ratha quelled die scorn that started rising inside her
at Bira's words. Once she too had been just as alarmed
at the prospect of life outside the clan. She had been
equally helpless until an Un-Named male taught her how
to hunt and provide for herself. Hunger had made her an
eager student, and she never forgot those lessons with
Bonechewer, even though the thought of him still brought
pain.

She knew that her life as clan leader had dulled her
hunting skills, but practice could hone them again. Per-
haps she could teach the rudiments to Thakur and Bira.
The thought cheered her a little. At least she would have
something else to think about other than her hatred of
Shongshar.

"I lived apart from the clan for several seasons, Bira,"
she said slowly. "I learned how to hunt and take care of
myself. I think I can teach you how to do the same."

Bira stared at her with respectful admiration, and Ratha
suddenly felt warmed by the Pirekeeper's gaze. She bad
almost forgotten what it meant to be looked up to for her
own abilities rather than the fact she was clan leader. A
life in exile, she thought, might have its compensations.

The little group set out later that same morning, with

223

most of the treeiings riding on Bira and Racha while
Thakur and Aree took the lead. They left the pleasant
shelter they had found by the fall and followed the
stream farther up until they reached the spring that was
its source. This was the end of clan territory in the direc-
tion of the setting sun. Shongshar would not seek them
beyond this boundary.

At least not for a while, Ratha thought to herself.

They wound along the top of a forested ridge for the
rest of the day and spent the night curled up together in
dry leaves beneath a thicket. By midmorning of the fol-
lowing day, Thakur announced they had come far enough
to avoid clan territory, he turned back downhill on the
same side he had brought them up.

On the downgrade, their pace was much faster than it
had been climbing, and by evening they were back on the
plain with the setting sun behind them. On open land.
the three could travel through the night. Morning found
them approaching the redwood grove that Thakur had
made his home during the mating season.

Once they reached it. Thakur showed Ratha and Bira
the stream that flowed nearby and the den he had dug in
the red clay beneath the roots of an old tree. The next
task was to feed the treeiings. who were growing cranky
with hunger, having had only a few insects during the
journey from clan territory. Aree led her brood up into
the branches of the nearest laden tree while Thakur
napped in the shade beneath and waked.

Ratha took Bira out into the open meadow and began
to show her how to stalk quietly. They practiced on the
big grasshoppers that clung co swaying fronds, and by the
time the afternoon was over, Bira had caught several of

224

the insects by herself. She couldn't quite bring herself to
eat them. however, and Ratha ended up disposing of most
of their catch.

When the two returned to Thakur, they found him
covered with surfeited treelings and surrounded by fruit
pits and gnawed cores. Some of the discards bore his
toothmarks, and Ratha guessed that the treelings had
shared their harvest. Neither she nor Bira wanted to try
such strange food, so she set herself to hunting, leaving
Bira behind with Thakur.

Her first attempts were unsuccessful, but on her next
try, she caught a wounded ground-bird that had escaped
another hunter and brought it back to her companions.
The feathers made Bira sneeze, but she was too hungry
to be fussy. The bird wasn't enough to fill their bellies,
but Thakur had gnawed fruit while she had eaten all the
grasshoppers. Bira ended up with most of the carcass and
it was enough to satisfy her.

In the next few days, Ratha found herself assuming the
role of major provider for the group. She caught small
animals and birds for the others, and once managed to
bring down a wild three-horn doe with some help from
Thakur. The treelings flourished on the ripening fruit.
The herding teacher, who admitted he was not much or
a hunter, tried his skill at fishing in a nearby creek.

At first the task of providing for the group and
feeding the treelings took up all of Ratha's time and atten-
tion. As practice rapidly sharpened her skills and strength-
ened unused muscles, she found her thoughts turning
back to the clan. She would often wonder, as she followed
the track of her prey through the grass, what was happen-
ing ro the Named under Shongshar's leadership. If those
thoughts distracted her and made her miss her kill, she

225

snarled at herself and resolved to pay attention to what
she was doing.

Despite herself, her curiosity grew, until she finally
admitted that she could not turn her back on her people
despite their betrayal of her. Bira, too, confessed that she
hungered for the feel of familiar ground and the smells
of those she knew.

Thakur was the most adamant about their need to leave
the old life behind and not be tempted by any rash hopes
of overthrowing Shongshar. Ratha finally gave up her
attempts to convince him to come with her, to hide and
watch the Named. Bira, however, was willing to come.

Together, they found a tree ac the edge of clan land
that was tall enough to overlook the meadow where the
herdbeasts grazed. From this far height, the two could
watch the activities of the herders without fear of being
discovered. What they could see from their perch, how-
ever, only frustrated Ratha. The smells that the wind
brought hinted that the herders were tense and uneasy,
but whether they were worried about a lack of rain or
the harshness of Shongshar's rule, she didn't know.

Ratha and Bira climbed down from their spying tree
and started back to their own land. They hadn't gone far
from the edge of clan teritory when Ratha heard a faint
buzzing that grew louder and more ominous as they
approached the sound.

A cloud of black flies hovered about a bush that stood
to the side of the trail and beneath, in the shadows, some-
thing lay.

"A dead herdbeast, I think," said Bira, wrinkling her
nose. "I can't smell it; the wind's not right."

Ratha peered at the still form. It didn't look the right
shape for a dappleback or a three-horn, but she couldn't

226

really telL She normally didn't eat carrion, but she knew
she shouldn't wasce this opportunity. "The meat may still
be good," she said to Bira and padded toward the bush.

"Don't taint your belly with this carcass, scavenger,"
said a hoarse voice, and a pair of dull yellow eyes opened
in the shadowed darkness. "It's already begun to stink."

Racha started at the well-remembered sarcasm in the
voice and her jaw dropped in disbelief. 'Tessran?"

The eyes gazed back at her. their brightness filmed over
by fever and pain. She could hear harsh breathing above
the drone of the flies. "Fessran?" she said again, coming
closer.

Now she could see there was no fly-ridden dead herd-
beast beneath the leaves, with Fessran crouched over it,
as she had first thought. The limp form was Fessran her-
self and the flies were thick around her.

Racha felt revulsion and sudden pity tighten her throat
as she said, "You took the strike that was meant for me
and I thought it killed you."

"It did. I'm Just taking a long time to die." She gave
Racha an exhausted grin. "Remember, I guarded dapple-
backs before I held the Red Tongue between my jaws.
You and I both know that clan herders are hard to kill."
She coughed and shuddered. "There was a carrion bird
here before you came. I thought he'd be at me before I was
dead. I'm glad you scared him away for a while." The
eyes closed.

"We left you in the cavern..."

"I stayed there until Shongshar got tired of looking at
me and had me dragged off clan ground," she said weakly
and coughed again. "He made Cherfan do it. Poor herder,
he gets all the nasty jobs. He tried to give me some meat,
but I couldn't eat it and he looked so sad that I finally

227

had co tell him to go." She paused and caught her breath.
"You had better go too, Ratha-"

Ratha wasn't listening. "Bira, hold the branches aside
so I can see her wound," she told the young Firekeeper
and the shadows slid back. She peered closer and swal-
lowed to keep herself from gagging at the Stench that
rose from torn and ulcerated flesh. Shongshar's fangs had
Struck inro Fessran's upper foreleg at the shoulder, driv-
ing through the leg itself and into her chest. Having her
leg in the way was the only thing that saved her from an
immediately fatal wound, but chat death might have been
better, Ratha thought, looking at Fessran's shrunken
flanks and pain-wracked face.

Yet there was something in that face that told her
Pessran wasn't ready to die, that if she had a chance, she
would fight for her life with the same ferocity that had
saved Ratha's. The wound itself wasn't that bad. What had
weakened her was infection and starvation. If they could
get her back to Thakur, his knowledge of healing might

save her.

She knew that her friend read her intent, for Fessran
, shook her head slowly. "No, Ratha. Leave me here for the
:: carrion birds. You have yourself and Bira to care for."

Rarha only laid back her ears at these words. "Ptahfo!
; You were the one who said clan herders were hard to
^ kill." She bent her head, seized Fessran's other forepaw,
|t and dragged her out from beneath the bush. The flies
^ swarmed about her in an angry cloud. "Crouch down,
'i Bira," Ratha said before Fessran could pull away.
|    Trembling with pity, the little Firekeeper flattened
| herself near Fessran. Ratha gave the paw another tug.
|    "Ratha, you can't. I'm too heavy for her," Fessran pro-
| tested as Bira wiggled herself underneath.

228

"You, Firekeeper leader?" Bira said over her shoulder
and grinned at Ratha. "You're no heavier than the sticks
I carry in my mouth or the fleas in my coat."

When Ratha had Fessran arranged so that she would
not fall off, Bira stood up. Fessran gasped and hissed
softly In pain. "All right?" Bira asked.

"No, but it's better than lying there with flies all over
me," Fessran retorted.

Weakened as Fessran was, Ratha could see she seemed    ^
more herself than she had when they first discovered her.
She felt a surge of hope that her friend would live.

Bira took a few cautious seeps while Ratha walked be-
side her and steadied Fessran. When it became evident    ;

that Bira could carry her burden at a reasonable pace, she     ,?
set off, with Ratha beside her. Fessran laid her head along
Bira's neck and closed her eyes, letting her legs and tail
dangle.

The journey was more painful for her than she would   , ,
admit and, by the time they reached the redwood grove,   ^ ^"
she was moaning aloud and rolling her head back and   j
forth. Blood and fluid from her wound trickled down   ! f
Bira's side and seeped into the young Firekeeper's coat,      ! ^

They put Fessran in Thakur's den beneath the red-   ; (t
woods and Ratha stayed with her while Bira ran to get
Thakur. His astonishment at seeing her was only slightly
less than his shock at seeing the ugliness of her wound.
Immediately he set about gathering medicinal leaves,
which Bira shredded and soaked in the stream before
laying on the wound. He also took Aree with him to look
for a type of fruit with a thick skin that had gone rotten
and fuzzy. When he returned with these, he removed the
skin. To Ratha's astonishment, he forced Fessran Co swal-

229

low some of the moldy fuzz while he mixed the rest into
the shredded poultice.

While he tended the wound, Ratha fed her friend with
meat that she had chewed until it was almost liquid. Bira
brought damp leaves from the Stream to drip water onto
Fessran's dry tongue.

For several days, she lay in the den like a lifeless
thing, barely able to swallow or open her eyes. The food
and water they gave her only seemed co be prolonging
her end, and Ratha felt her hope slipping into despera-
tion. The wound stank and oozed despite Thakur's poul-
tices, and fever melted her away until she was little more
than a skeleton.

Night after night, Ratha stayed beside Fessran, strug-
gling not to fall into a doze for fear she would wake to
look into her eyes and find the scare of death. With a
fierce devotion, she fed her friend, even though the food
often came back up.

And, finally, as they were at the point of giving up,
Fessran began to rally. The swelling in the wound went
down. It ceased oozing and crusted over. She was able to
keep down the food that Ratha gave her and could suck
on a wet leaf placed in her mouth.

She no longer lay limply on her side, but was able to
roll onto her front, although she often grimaced with
pain. She soon was able to take bits of meat and, with
Ratha's aid, could stagger to the nearby Stream to lap
water.

As Fessran improved, Ratha was able to leave her and
resume her task of hunting for the group. She continued
teaching Bira her skill and before long the young female
was making small kills of her own. Bira also accompanied

230

Ratha on forays to the spying tree, where they would hide
and wacch what went on in the meadow.

Hie clan culled more herdbeasts, but few of these were
fcfc to the herders. Most of the meat was taken by the
Firekeepers and often dragged up the trail out of sight.
Ratha strained for the sight or smell of Shongshar, but he
never appeared in the meadow, even when the guard-fires
were lit at dusk. She itched to know what was going on
in the cave, and her anger conjured up images of him
lolling before the Red Tongue, bloated with meat taken
from the herders. Such thoughts made her growl between
her leech and shred the bark on the branch where she
crouched.

Summer wore into autumn and the leaves began to
turn and falL One afternoon, after Ratha had helped
Fessran back from the stream, (he Firekeeper stretched
herself out in the den and carefully licked the fur around
the edge of her wound.

"Not too many of the Named have taken a bite like
that and survived," Ratha observed.

"It was worth the pain. You and Thakur got away.**
Pessran fell silent for a while. "When I saw Shongshar
about co kill you, I realized wfaar he was. Before then, I
lived m a daze. He used my fear of the fire-creature to
lead me like a dappleback. He was so clever! Everything
he said sounded right and even everything be did, until
he bared his fangs to take your life."

"And almost cook yours instead. I wanted to go back
and rip Shongshar's throat out, but Thakur persuaded me
not to try. Sometimes I think Thakur is the only one of
us that has any sense."

"Yes," Fessran agreed and added, "Thank goodness."

231

They lolled their tongues at each other, and Ratha felt
warmed by the quiec joy of renewed friendship. Yet not
all of what Fessran had to say was pleasant. When Ratha
asked her for her story, her eyes darkened and she told of
the Firekeepers' arrogance, Shongshar's increasing glut-
tony and the fevered dances about the cave-fire. Already,
she said, Shongshar had begun to use the terror of fire co
expand clan holdings. More cubs were being trained as
Firekeepers and the herders were being worked hard to
provide enough meat for those who feasted in the Red
Tongue's den.

As Ratha listened, her rage grew and she racked her
mind for a way to wrest her power back from Shongshar.
She knew that she was the one responsible for this change
in her people. She had brought the gift of fire to the
Named and with it had not only slain the old leader but
ended the old laws and traditions that had governed the
clan. Her rule had led them to triumph against the Un-
Named, but she had failed to provide for the spiritual
wants of her people, a hunger that grew and fostered
Shongshar's rise.

Fessran began to speak of banding together to kill
Shongshar. Once, Ratha would have been eager for such
fierce talk, but time alone to think had shown her the
.truth of Thakur's words.

"No," she answered as Fessran stared at her with
puzzled eyes. "Killing him would do no good. The Named
want to crouch down before the Red Tongue and serve
a leader who bears that power- If he were ro die, his way
would not end, for they would find another like him to
rule in his place."

Her friend's eyes narrowed. "Suppose he were to die
and the cave-fire along with him. Then if the Named had

232

nothing to crouch down before, they would turn back to

you."

"What good would my leadership do die clan without

the Red Tongue to protect the herd? The Named have
become too dependent on the fire-creacure to survive with-
out it."

"All of the Red Tongue need not die," answered Fess-
ran. "The fire-creature in the cave is what gives him his
power. Herders don't crouch down to guard-flames kept
in the meadow or those kept in fire-lairs. They go to the
cave. We must strike there."

The longer Ratha thought about Fessran's argument.
the more convincing it sounded. If Shongshar lost the
cave-fire, his influence would be severely crippled. "Some
Pirekeepers would also have to die, Fessran," said Ratha
slowly. "The young ones, the cubs who know no way
Other than his. Your son, Nyang, would be one."

"He is more Shongshar's than mine," said Fesstan bit-
terly. "It is my fault; I let Shongshar influence him and
turn him into the little killer that he is. Even if he lived,
he couldn't be trusted. No. I wouldn't let that turn me
aside."

Ratha stared at her, looking deep into her eyes. "Are
you saying you know of a way to destroy the fire-creature
in the cave?"

"There is a big crack in the roof," said Fessran. "It
draws the smoke up and out so that it doesn't fill the
cavern. That's one reason we chose that cave for the Red
Tongue's den." She paused. "The smoke comes out of
several cracks above the falls. I've seen it when I've been
up there."

"Are any of them wide enough to crawl through?"

233

"No, I don't think so," said Fessran.

"Then I don'r see what good they are."

"Think," Fessran prodded her. "What is the greatest
enemy of the Red Tongue? What was our reason for
bringing the fire into the cavern?"

"The rain?" asked Ratha. "But how are you going to
make it rain inside that cave?"

"Well, I'm not sure exactly how to do it, but the crack
is close to the stream, and if smoke can come up, water
can go down."

"How would you get the water from the stream into the
crack?" Ratha cocked her head at Fessran.

"That's the part I don't know."

Ratha thought for a while. "Thakur might be able to
help us. He often plays with mud and water when he's
fishing."

When Thakur returned from the creek with his catch in
his jaws, Ratha told him about Fessran's idea. At first, he
seemed doubtful, but the longer he thought about it, the
more he became convinced that the scheme might work.
As for moving water from stream to cave, that could be
done by digging a long trench in the earth from the stream
to the deft, making a path for the water to follow. He
had dug such water-paths in the creekbank to trap fish.

"Do the cracks that lead into the cave lie above or
below the stream?" he asked Fessran.

"In a little hollow where the stream bends before it
reaches the falls," was her answer,

"Is the stream bank rocky or muddy there?"

Fessran thought it was muddy, but she wasn't sure.
The only way co tell was to go and look.

Ratha turned to Thakur, who had begun to look doubt-

234

ful again. "Herding teacher, this would give us a way to
strike down the fire-creature and free our people from
Shongshar. Will you work with us?"

Thakur agreed, and they began to plan a small expedi-
tion to the site to Judge whether the idea would work.
This time only Thakur and Ratha would go, along with
Aree and Ratharee, leaving Bira to take care of Fessran
and the rest of the treelings. If the plan was feasible, one
of them would start digging while the other went back to
the redwood grove to fetch Bira and Fessran, too, if she
was well enough to travel.

Before Ratha left, she caught enough game so that Bira
wouldn't have to hunt. When that was done, she and
Thakur bid their companions farewell and set off.

To avoid trouble, they decided to return to clan ground
by the same route they had come, skirting Shongshar's
territory until they reached the spring that marked the
border in the direction of the setting sun. They crossed
over by night and hid until they were sure Shongshar
wasn't patrolling this remote part of his ground. When
daylight came, the two made their way downstream and
Ratha soon recognized the bend that Fessran had described.
They found the hollow by following the scent of smoke
and discovered the maze of cracks from which it issued.

As Fessran had said, the stream lay slightly above the
hollow, separated only by the grassy rise of its bank. If a
deep enough channel could be dug, the stream could be
turned from its course and rerouted down the hollow. The
fissures that vented the cave lay near the bottom, so that
the water filling the hollow would not have to rise far
before it drained through them.

Thakur dug a hole at the top of the rise and found
sandy clay as far down as he could reach. Ratha made

235

another test excavation near the stream and came up with
only a few stubborn rocks.

"This looks better than I'd thought," Thakur said
after examining the results of her digging. "I had my
doubts, but now I know that we can do it. I'll start while
you fetch Fessran and Bira."

Within a few days, Ratha returned with the two others
and the treelings. She sheltered them in small caves farther
upstream they had previously used- Leaving Fessran and
Bira to rest, she sought Thakur.

When she could find no trace of him or his work, she
began to grow worried, but before long he appeared and
pushed back some fallen branches and brush to show her
the extent of the trench he had already dug.

"Whenever I leave, I hide it by laying branches across
the top," he explained. "Then, even if any of the Fire-
keepers comes along, they won't notice what we're doing.'*

"You've done a lot," said Ratha, impressed by the
length and the depth of his excavation.

"There's much more to do and we'll have to hurry to
finish before the rainy season starts," he replied and added
almost mischievously, "Start digging, clan leader."

Despite her weariness from the purney, she got into
the trench and began scraping away at the dirt in front of
her. She dug all that day and late into the evening. She
dug until her claws ached, scarcely noticing when Bira
joined her. When she crawled out of the trench she stag-
gered beneath a bush and collapsed into sleep.

The next day she dug and the day after that, and, when
she was not digging, she hunted to feed the others who
were devoting themselves even more to the task. Her life
seemed to narrow, focusing only on the digging: guard-
ing it, hiding it and extending it laboriously, day by day.

236

Thakur guided the work, making a pilot trench that
Bira and Ratha deepened and widened. Fessran joined in,
'and, although her injury prevented her from attacking the
hard-packed clay along with the other two, she could push
aside die soil they threw between their legs, clear away
brush and pull roots.

Even the treelings helped. Their clever paws could
often dig a way around an embedded rock or break away a
stubborn root. Aree sometimes acted as lookout, sitting
in a tree that overhung the trench and screeching to warn
of approaching intruders. The treelings groomed the dirt
out of the diggers' fur, pulled caked clay from between
aching pads and provided comfort and affection that was
badly needed.

Ratha felt herself growing closer to Ratharee, who
seemed to stay on her shoulder all the time, whether she
was laboring in the trench or Stalking game. The treeling
knew to keep quiet during the hunt and to crouch and
cling when Ratha sprang. Often Ratha would forget that
Ratharee was there until a little voice murmured in her
ear or small fingers began to clean her fur.

Fessran and Bira also chose treeling companions. The
injured Firekeeper had become friendly with Ratharee's
older sibling. At first she had viewed the treelings with
mixed emotions and bad been reluctant to take one, but
once the relationship had begun, it grew with amazing
rapidity until Fessran couldn't be separated from her new
companion. Bira chose the younger male of Aree's brood,
leaving Thakur with only Aree herself and her elder son.
Bira called her treeling Blaree, imitating Ratha's way of
naming them.

Days passed, and the trench was gradually extended

237

from the hollow where it had begun over the rise to the
stream. It became deep enough so that someone could
walk in it with only the tips of their ears showing above
the edge, and wide enough to turn around in. Ratha and
her companions interrupted their work only to eat, sleep
and relieve themselves. Each section of the spillway was
covered over with branches and brush as it was completed,
so that if intruders threatened, the diggers only had to
conceal the open trench they were working in.

Sunset came a little earlier each day, giving them less
light to work by. Palling leaves drifted into the trench
and had to be cleared out. Ratha sensed that it was nearly
time for the clan's mating season to begin, but neither
she nor her female companions showed signs of going into
heat- She vowed to herself that even if she did, she was
going to stay at the bottom of the trench and use her
restlessness to dig. Fessran and Bira agreed with her,
saying that, if any of them felt the onset of the mating
urge, they could send Thakur away to fish and provide food
while they continued to work. The layout of the spillway
was now complete, with two pilot trenches running side
by side to mark the width of the remaining section to be
dug.

One morning Ratha and Bira were widening the side
of the channel when Ratha felt something sting her nose.
She looked up, co see gray clouds rolling above the trees;

another drop struck her between the eyes.

'The rains are coming early," said Thakur, leaning into
the trench and alternately glancing down at her and up
at the sky.

"How far are we from the stream bank?" she asked,
lifting her nose above the piles of dirt on the edge.

238

"A few call-lengths. We're going to have to dig deeper,
though, to cut through the bank and make the water

run this way."

She sighed and went back co work.

Overhead, the clouds grumbled and the ram began. At
first it was light and helped by softening the ground so
that the work went faster. As it grew into a pelting down-
pour, the bottom of the trench became a bog. The diggers
fought to keep their footing on the slick clay and fre-
quently fell into puddles or accidentally spattered each
other with the pawfuls of mud they flung aside. Their
small companions began to look less like Heelings and

more like soggy mudballs.

At the end of the day, Ratha would crawl shivering

from the trench, her coat soaked, her underside and flanks
grimy with clay and gravel. Once she was under shelter,
Racharee made a determined attempt to groom her, but
die treeling was often so exhausted that she fell asleep
when she had barely begun. Ratba was so tired, she didn't

care.

The work grew more difficult and the task seemed end-
less. Sometimes Ratha, in her haze of fatigue, couldn't
remember what the purpose of it was. She felt as though
she had spent her life scraping away at this wretched
hole and would do so for the rest of her existence. When
at last Thakur leaned down into the trench again and
cried, "Stop!," she paid no attention 10 him and kept on
digging mechanically until water began seeping through

the gravel and soil at her feet

She felt Thakur drop into the ditch beside her, seize
her scruff and shake her. "Ratha, stop! We're finished. If
you go any farther, the water-path will flood before we're

ready."

239

She blinked, trying to pull herself out of her daze. She
scrambled out of the trench after Thakur and saw that he
was right. Only the remaining thin wall of earth held back
the stream. When the time came, they would dig at the
embankment to weaken it until it broke, sending the flow
down the spillway, into the hollow and down the cracks
that vented the cave below. The cave-fire would perish in
a rush of water, and those who tended it would be swept

away.

Despite her exhaustion, Ratha felt a surge of triumph.
She was ready. Now all the remained was to wait.




CHAPTER




'S^y THE SUN HID for days behind a heavy bank of
<y3f clouds, and the rain fell without ceasing. The
stream began to swell, surging and cutting away ar its
banks until Ratha feared the wall of earth at the high
end of the spillway would not hold it back. Now she
crouched on the rise above the stream bank, watching the

swirling water with anxious eyes.

The break had to be controlled, Thakur had said. If
the packed earth gave way too soon or in the wrong place,
the rushing water could destroy the channel and race
down the hillside, missing the hollow. All their work
would be useless if that happened.

^   Ratharee huddled on the ground beneath her, seeking

240

shelter from the rain in the warmth between her forepaws
and her breast. Ratha could feel the little body shiver.

"It won't be long now, Ratharee," she said softly, feel-
ing the treeling's paws on her forefeet. "Bira's gone down
to spy on the cave. She'll be back soon."

As she waked for Bira, she found herself thinking
about Shongshar, as she had often done during the past
days. At first her mind had been clouded with hate. Once
the cave-fire was destroyed and his rule ended, she vowed
to force the Firekeepers to change their arrogant ways.
No one in the clan would speak Shongshar's name with-
out a hiss. Both his memory and his ways would be buried.

Yet she now realized that as ruthless and cruel as he
had become, Shongshar had greater vision than she had.
He was right: she had left the true understanding of the
Red Tongue's power to him, and thereby forfeited her
leadership. The veneration of fire had thrust her people
into debasement and a savagery previously unknown
among their kind, but it also fed a hunger of the spirit, a
need that could neither be ignored nor denied.

He was also right that the Named were pushed beyond
themselves by the awesome presence of the Red Tongue.
Not only did gazing into the fire inspire them to greater
strength and courage, it gave them the vision to seek
beyond the limits of their everyday life for a sense of
meaning. Even Shongshar's dream of extending his rule
beyond clan ground was as inspired as it was arrogant, she
admitted grudgingly.

As much as she hoped to obliterate all traces of his
rule from among her people, she knew some of the
things he had done could not be changed. This realization
had forced her to put aside her hate long enough to see

241

that not everything the Firekeepers had done under his
rule was wrong. Storing wood and sheltering the source-
fire in the cave were sound ideas, even though they had
been turned to self-serving purposes.

If a large shelter such as the cave had been located in
the meadow instead of far up the creek trail, it would
have been more difficult to misuse. Had the Firekeepers
been made to understand that the Red Tongue's power
was a gift for all to share, perhaps it might have been
more difficult for Shongshar to lead them astray. And if
she had understood the need of her people to belong to
a power greater than themselves and used it for good
instead of turning it aside, then Shongshar might not
have been able to turn the clan against her.

Ratha heard the slap of wet pads and caught the smell
of Bira's soggy pelt. The shapes of the young female and
her (reeling appeared through the rain.

"Most of the Firekeepers are inside," she panted as she
crouched beside Ratha. "Shongshar is having a great feast
in the cave. Where are Thakur and Fessran?"

'They're coming." Ratha shivered with cold and im-
patience.

When the other two arrived, Bira told them the news.
They looked at each other with rising excitement and
then all eyes turned to Ratha,

"Take Ratharee, Fessran," she said and sprang onto
the top earth dike holding back the stream. Dirt flew into
the foaming water. She attacked the soil as if it were
Shongshar's throat; rage made her paw strokes more
powerful.

'They'll be starting ... to dance . . . around the Red
Tongue . . . soon," she growled as she redoubled her ef-

242

forts. Brown water began to trickle through the channel
between her feet. She was turning to Thafcur with a grin
when she felt the earth give way beneath her.

Her triumph quickly turned to terror as the earth wall
broke and toppled. She threw herself to one side, twisting
and scrabbling for a clawhold. She landed on her belly,
her hindquarters and tail in the surging flood that spilled
through the break. As the wall crumbled the current grew
stronger, tugging at her hindquarters. She splashed and
kicked with frantic strength, knowing that if she fell be-
neath the pouring water, she would never fight her way
to the surface. She would be carried UK a leaf down into
the frothing cauldron that would fill the hollow. The
Red Tongue would have its revenge even before it died.

That thought gave her the added strength to screech
farther up the bank and drive her claws into harder
ground. Her shoulder muscles cramped with the effort
of dragging her body from the hungry current Part of
the bank broke away beneath one forepaw and she
dangled, held by the daws of the other. She felt teeth
seize her flailing paw and grunted as she was yanked up
until her chest and then her belly lay on the edge.

Someone caught her scruff, someone else grabbed a
hind pew, and tteeling hands were on her taiL She was
hauled, dragged and rolled away as the rest of the bank
caved in, threatening to sweep away both her and her
rescuers. When they finally reached safe ground, she
could only lie and pant while the others looked anxiously
at her.

"I'm all right." she gasped, struggling to her feet "See
what's happened." She shook herself, though it was use-
less in the heavy rain, and staggered to where the others
scood.

243

Water from the rain-swollen stream coursed into the
channel, washing away the remains of the earthen wall.
The flood widened and deepened its new course, eating
farther into the original streambed and diverting more
and more water into the spillway. Ratha and Bira ran
along the edge of their ditch, following the foaming wave
down to the bottom of the hollow. The strength of the
current was enough to send the muddy water fountaining
up onto die slope of the hollow and right into the cracks
venting the cave.

"We've done it!" Ratha roared to Bira as they galloped
back to the top where Fessran and Thakur waited.

"We certainly have," said Thakur as she reached him.
"Look. The stream's left its old path entirely." He pointed
with his paw toward the streambed below the spillway
opening. Only a small trickle of water ran between pud-
dles in the sand.

Above the roar of water surging into the channel,
Ratha caught the sound of shrieks and cries drifting up
from fat below.

"The cave-fire must be dead!" she cried, leaping up.
"Now we strike against Shongshar!'*

She led the four of them down past the new lake that
was filling die hollow, to the trail that led to the bottom
of the waterfall. She noticed that the sound of the fall
was gone. Instead, the noise of falling water came from
the cave that had once been the Red Tongue's den. A
torrent gushed from the entrance, washing away a por-
tion of the trail that ran beside the stream and cutting its
way back to fill the now-empty streambed.

Even as they watched, a body rode out on the flow,
tumbling over rocks and boulders until it was finally
pushed to one side and left. Ratha could see others, some

244

lying limp and still in the rain, some trying to crawl away

from the growing cataract

Charred logs that hurtled out on the flood about the
entrance gave evidence that the cave-fire had been drowned
and washed away. The conspirators gazed at each other,
awed by the destruction.

Ratha's imagination gave her an image of what the
inside of the cave had been like when the water came
pouring in. First, a small dribble that hissed into steam
when it struck the Red Tongue and startled the dancers.
Then more rivulets falling from the ceiling, glinting in
the firelight. The dancers would have stopped, laying
back their ears and snarling at this strange invasion. And
when the full force of the flood hit the great fire and
plunged the cave into sudden darkness, she could almost
hear the howls and screams above the echoing roar that
grew louder and louder....

Some would have tried to flee the cave in a panic near
madness, guessing that the earth itself had turned against
them for their wickedness in worshiping the Red Tongue.
She could imagine that terror in the eyes of the half-
drowned Firekeepers.

"It must have been terrible," said Bira softly, saying
what Ratha saw in the eyes of the two others.

"Let's find Shongshar," she said roughly and turned
away.

They found him farther downstream, in a small gorge
beside the trail. The rush of water had carried him with
it, tumbling and turning him until at last it flung him
aside. Now he lay, a sodden mass of silver fur, among the
boulders at the bottom.

Carefully Ratha made her way down into the gorge,

245

followed by the Others. If Shongshar was dead, he
shouldn't be left ro rot in the stream and taint the water.
He should be taken elsewhere and buried. And if he wasn't
dead, she should know.

He remained so still as she approached that she was
convinced lire had gone from him. She was about to tell
Thakur to take Shongshar's tail in his jaws when Shong-
shar's eyes suddenly cracked open. With a gasp, Bira skit-
tered back, bumping into Fessran.

Shongshar's eyes widened and focused on Ratha. She
felt a sudden chill that was not Just the wind on her wet
pelt.

"Your rule is ended, Shongshar," she said, trying to
keep the tremor from her voice. "The Red Tongue in the
cave has been destroyed and the Firekeepers are too
frightened to listen to you again."

"Then it was you who sent the angry water into the
cave," he hissed and drew a shuddering breath.

"Yes."

"You have grown great indeed if water moves itself to
do your will," he said hoarsely. "The weaker power must
yield to the stronger. That is the law of all things, clan
leader. I offer you my throat for your fangs." He rolled
his head back as he spoke.

"Be careful!" Thakur hissed beside her. Behind her she
could hear Fessran growl, "Kill him for me, Ratha."

But Ratha stepped back from him. "No. There has
been enough death among us. I offer you this, Shongshar.
You may leave clan ground with your life, if you never
return."

"You offer me nothing then," he snarled weakly.

"You say there is nothing for you outside the clan.
What about your cubs?"

246

His eyes narrowed, and orange blazed between die
lids. His lips drew back from his fangs as he spat. "You
are crueler than I am, Ratha. You killed them. The
thought of their deaths only left me when I gazed into
the heart of the Red Tongue, and now that is gone, you
torment me again with their memory."

"Would you believe me if I told you I didn't kill your
cubs? Thakur and I cook them off clan ground and left
them in a place where they could find food and water.
They might still be alive."

Shongshar looked at her and she saw a faint hope
warring with rage in his eyes. He sought Thakur. "Does
she speak truth, herding ceacher?"

"Yes," Thakur replied.

"You couldn't have told me, could you?" Shongshar
said bitterly, turning his gaze back to Ratha.

"I couldn't trust you. Listen, when you are ready to
leave clan ground, I'll tell you where we left them."

Shongshar sank back, a strange glaze over his eyes.
"You should have trusted me then, clan leader... it's too
late now."

Ratha barely heard Thakur's warning cry before a
fierce blow struck the side of her head, sending her reeling.
Shongshar was suddenly on cop of her, raking her sides
with his daws. She writhed underneath him, heaving and
bucking, trying to dodge the plunging teeth. A fang scored
her side and she lashed up, dragging her claws across his
cheek.

"I offered to let you go ... to find your lost cubs,** she
gasped. She twisted underneath him, ignoring the rocks
that bruised her back.

"What good would it do me to search for them now?"
he hissed. "If they were as witless as you believed, they

247

wouldn't care who fathered them. And if they weren't,
they have been gone from me too long to know me."

She understood then that hate had worked inside him
too long for anything to turn it aside. The fierce glow of
his eyes was the fire of madness. "No, Ratha," he hissed,
baring his fangs in front of her face. "All I want from you
now is your death or mine."

Again he strained his head back for a killing downslash.
At the instant his throat lay exposed, Thakur struck. The
momentum of the herding teacher's attack thrust Shong-
shar aside from Ratha. She scrambled to her feet as Fess-
ran and Bira leaped to Thakur's aid.

Fessran made up for the handicap of her injury by the
intensity of her rage. Shongshar was bleeding from many
wounds by the time the three bore him down, but their
combined strength could scarcely hold him.

"All right, Shongshar," Ratha panted- "You have a
choice. Either you leave clan ground now, or your life
ends here."

His only answer was a lunge at Ratha. Thakur cast
her a look of despair that told her Shongshar had made
his decision, and there was nothing the herding teacher
could do about it.

"You are going to kill me," Shongshar said, narrow-
ing his eyes at Thakur. "That is a bitter thing, to have to
kill one who was a friend- If you don't, I will bury my
teeth in her. Choose which one of us you will grieve for,
herding teacher."

Again he lunged for Ratha, nearly throwing oS his
captors. They seized him, throwing him back. Thakur
opened his jaws for the killing bite.

"No," Ratha said. "I brought him among us. I will take
him to the dark trail."

248

She felt the herding teacher tremble as he moved
aside for her. He looked at her, his eyes dark with grief.
"Be quick," he said and stared away.

When it was done and Shongshar lay still, Ratha
lifted her head with a deep weariness that seemed TO fill
her. She stared down at the blood oozing onto the silver
fur, as the others backed away from the body.

"We will carry him into the meadow and place him
beneath the tree where Bonechewer died," she said softly.
"He deserves at least that much."

"Ratha!" The harshness in Thakur's voice Jerked her
gaze from Shongshar. Fessran was looking up at the rim
of the gorge, her tail starting to wag. Angry eyes glared
down. The Named were all about them, descending the
steep slope of the gorge on both sides. It was too late to
run or to hide Shongshar's body. Ratha knew she would
either have to win the clan over or fight.

She felt Thakur edge against her, protecting Bira be-
tween himself and Fessran. The bitter smell of vengeance-
hunger filled the stream as the Named crept down into
the gorge.

"It's a bad place for a fight," Thakur growled softly.

"Stay together," Fessran hissed. "To reach any of us,
they'll have to kill us all."

Ratha narrowed her eyes at the pack. She sensed that
the herders among them did not seem as vengeful as the
Firekeepers; in fact the latter had to bully the herders into
sullen complacency.

"There is the one who murdered our leader and teacher!
Tear out her throat!" cried a Firekeeper and he clawed a
herder, who flinched and growled, "Yes, tear out her
throat'"

249

"Let her taste the same meat she gives to others!" cried
someone else among the herders.

"Ptahh!" Ratha spat back. "You herders know the meat
he gave you. He dragged away your beasts to glut him-
self and those who served him while leaving you nothing.
Why do you howl for him?"

"He gave us power and strength," roared one. "He
gave us the dance in the cave," howled another.

"The dance," said Ratha. "And was that dance ever for
herders? Were the ones who worked to feed the Fire-
keepers ever allowed to come before the cave-fire to feast
and share in the celebration?"

The herders exchanged looks with each other, despite
the Firekeepers' prodding. "No," muttered one. "They
said our coats were too dirty and that we must watch from
a distance and be grateful that the Red Tongue would
even permit us in the cave."

Other mutterings broke out, and Ratha could hear more
complaints being spoken against Shongshar's attitude to-
ward those who tended the clan's animals.

"I'm glad Shongshar's dead," roared someone else, and
with a start Ratha recognized Cherfan's voice. "I'm tired
of crouching to those singe-whiskered fools and hearing
that we herders aren't worthy to approach the Red
Tongue."

Heads turned among the herders and more voices joined
Cherfan's until they broke from the rest of the clan and
crowded around Ratha. Cherfan faced the Firekeepers and
bellowed, "All right, now we'll see how brave you are in
a fair fight!"

But Ratha could see that the Pirekeepers still held the
advantage. Although there were more herders in the

250

meadow, Cherfan had no way of summoning their help
without forcing a confrontation. And whether Ac sides
were matched or not did not matter to Ratha. This batde
would cost the clan heavily in lives no matter who won.

"If she wins, she will forbid us to crouch before the
fire creature or offer ourselves in the dance," she heard
one Firekeeper growl ro another. Muttering spread among
them and one yowled, "Attack now! She has killed the
fire-creature in the cave. She will keep the Red Tongue
from rising again."

"No!" cried Ratha, turning to face him. "You are
wrong!"

Even Thakur and Fessran scared at her in astonishment
as she waved her tail for silence. "Hear me, Firekeepers,"
she said. "I understand your wish to crouch and dance
before the Red Tongue. I once thought that was wrong
and should be stopped, but I know better now. I killed
the cave-fire because it was being misused." She paused,
looking into their eyes. 'Tell me yourselves. Was it right
TO look down upon the herders and take their beasts when
your bellies were already bloated? Or to keep them from
the cave unless they brought you meat?"

Several Firekeepers lowered their heads and stared down
at their paws. "No," Ratha continued. "Shongshar did
wrong by making you believe that serving the fire-creature
made you more deserving than the rest He used your be-
lief to make you do fierce and cruel things you would not
have done. That is why he died."

A Firekeeper raised his head. "Then you will allow us
to honor the Red Tongue as well as use it to guard the

herds?"

"Yes- I have said nothing against honoring the fire-
creature itself. Listen. This is what I will do. We will

251

enlarge one of the old fire-lairs to make an earrh<ave in
the meadow where the source-fire may be kept. There dry
wood can be stored and the fire will be safe from rain. It
will be guarded, but anyone, Firekeeper or herder, may
enter for warmth, and they may crouch and lower their
whiskers before the fire, if they wish."

"I don't think that's enough," growled another Fire-
keeper, glaring at Ratha. "Shongshar allowed only us to
approach Red Tongue and crouch before it. The herders
should tend their dapplebacks."

Yowls and hisses rose from the herders and the fur on
their napes began to lift. Ratha feared that she might not
be able to avert a fight.

"Listen to me, both of you. I brought the Red Tongue
ro the clan for all to share. The Firekeepers were created
so that their skills could benefit the rest of us. Herders, the
Firekeepers need you as much as you need them. Neither
of you can survive without the skill of the others. If you
follow me, I will see that both herders and Firekeepers
share the fire-creature in a way that is good for both."

Again mutters broke out from the Firekeepers. The one
who had challenged Ratha tried BO speak again, but was
silenced by his companions. She waited until the Fire-
keepers had stopped scuffling and speaking among them-
selves. "Clan leader," the first one said, "most of us think
that what you have suggested is wise. But we need our
own leader. We would like Fessran to return to us."

"I think thai can be done," said Ratha as she ruroed to
her friend and said in a lower voice, "Now that you know
the pitfalls along this path, I can trust you ro tread it with
care."

A few Pirekeepers separated themselves from their
companions and glared at Ratha. "I sdll don't like it,"

252

complained the same one who had objected before. "You
think that Shongshar was wrong ro take meat from the
herders and give it to us? We need more than they do. We
have to be strong. What's wrong with that?"

With a roar Fessran sprang forward. "I'll tell you
what's wrong with that, you greedy wretch!" He skittered
away as she glared at the others in his group. "What Ratha
offers is fair to all, and I intend to support her. Either
you obey my orders, or you leave the Firekeepers. Is that
clear?"

With sullen growls they reluctantly agreed.

To pull Shongshar's body up out of the gorge rook the
efforts of Ratha and her companions. When that was
done, she sent Thakur and Fessran to search for other
survivors of the disaster who might have fled and were
now in hiding. Gradually they began to come bade, their
coats soaked and their eyes haunted. Some coughed and
wheezed from the water in their lungs, while others
walked stiffly, pained by sprains and bruises. When they
were all assembled, Ratha led them down to the meadow.

Fessran and Bira took care of the half-drowned Fire-
keepers, treating them like a large litter of disobedient
but sdll-loved cubs. Fessran made them dry themselves by
the fire, a new blaze that had been lit from the fire-lairs.
Bira soothed those who sdll trembled from their

memories.

Ratha found the bodies of those who had died in the
flood and helped to bring them to be laid under grave-trees
at the edge of clan ground. Among the dead was the herder
Shoman. Another, as she had feared, was Fessran's son,
Nyang.

Some of the more wrathful herders wanted to tear
Shongshar's body and scatter his bones, but Ratha sternly

253

forbade them from approaching him. Carefully and re-
spectfully, she and Thakur carried the body through the
meadow and laid it beneath Bonchewer's grave-tree.

In the following days, she and Fessran reorganized the
Firekeepers, reducing their number and sending some to
be retrained as herders. Now that she had control of the
Red Tongue again, she could encourage Thakur and the
others who had treelmgs to resume training them in the
art of caring for fire. She was pleased to learn that Aree
had not forgotten her careful lessons and the young tree-
lings still retained much of what they had learned. She
and Ratharee joined in with the Others and soon were
spending many of their evenings learning what treeling
paws could do.

They had many spectators, for those in the clan who
did not have treelings were drawn by curiosity. There was
still some uneasiness about having such creatures tend
the Red Tongue, but Ratha sensed that it was diffuse and
no longer the threat it had been during Shongshar's rise
to power. She shared Ratharee with those who wished to
try working with a treeling and encouraged Thakur, Bira
and Fessran to do the same.

As Ratha lifted the first pawful of earth from the
threshold of the old fire-lair, she hesitated before throw-
ing it aside. Despite her words to the Firekeepers, she
felt she had set her feet in Shongshar's pawprints and
hoped she would have the strength not to take the trail
he had followed.

She felt Ratharee on her shoulder, turned her head to
nuzzle the treeling and felt calmer. The creature's gentle
-touch eased the loneliness that sometimes came over her
even when she was close to her own kind. Ratharee

254

couldn't speak, but she seemed to say as much with her
nimble hands and bright, wise eyes as the Named did
with words.

The treeling shared much more than the skill of her
hands. She was a companion who never questioned or
judged. Her presence seemed to lessen Ratha's fierce need
to prove herself to others, and she felt herself gaining a
stability of mind that she had not known before.

When she was directing Ratharee in a task such as
laying out kindling, she often felt that the treeling knew
what she wanted before she nudged her arms or gave the
clicking sounds that she followed. The understanding
between them grew less that of one creature serving
another and became a partnership. In concentrating on a
task, the bond between them grew so strong that she and
Ratharee were one being with shared abilities beyond
those of either partner.

She also realized that the relationship was more equal
than she had first thought. While she experienced the
Heeling's dexterity as if it were her own, she sensed that
her companion was gaining knowledge treelings had
never had. She gave Ratharee her strength and her speed
as well as her ability to see at night. Her intelligence too
she shared, although she often wondered, when she looked
into the startling depths of Rariharee's eyes, whether tree-
lings might have a cleverness of their own that was equal
to that of the Named, even though it was different.

When she ventured to ask her companions how they
felt about their treelings, she found she was not alone in
her discovery. Even those of the Named who had only
watched or worked with them for brief periods seemed to
benefit from the contact.

Now she scraped away another pawful of dirt as others

255

of the clan began to dig with her. She glanced at Thakur,
alongside her, and noticed that Aree was looking a bit
bulgier than she had been.

"She's pregnant again," said Thakur with a grin. "Don't
ask me how she did it."

Ratha continued her task, feeling happy. Soon there
would be more treelings for those of the clan who wanted
them. And nearly everybody did.

She sensed this was a coming change for her people, a
change more subtle but no less powerful than the bring-
ing of the Red Tongue to the clan. But unlike the use
and worship of fire, which raised savage instincts, the
growing partnership of the Named with treelings seemed
to waken the gentler part of their nature, giving it
strength.

It gave her a strange reeling of hope, chough she al-
most doubted it herself as she continued to dig, but it
refused to leave her mind. She found herself watching
her friends to see whether the change she imagined was
real, and she found that it was. Even Fessran, the one who
had resisted the treelings and only taken a companion
after her illness, admitted she felt the effect. She was no
less irascible and her comments were as pointed as ever,
but her sudden flares of temper, which made others wary
of her, were gone.

Perhaps it was this that gave Radia a true tope that
she could lead her people along a new path. The treelings
would serve the Named not only by caring for fire with
the skill of their fingers, but by lessening the feelings of
loneliness and hunger for chose things of the spirit that
had driven the Named to frenzied obedience to the Red
Tongue.

*   *

256

The flicker of firelight lit the earthen walls and cast
a glow over the wet grass of the meadow. A light rain
fell in the dusk, bur the source-fire was safe in its shelter.
The den had been dug deep and well, with holes to vent
the smoke and allow the flame to draw. A raised floor of
packed earth had been made to hold the fire above any
water that might seep in, and an adjacent chamber had
been dug in which to stack and dry wood. It was now half-
filled with remains of the cave woodpile, pieces of which
had been recovered and dried before the watch-fires.

A little while before, Ratharee had ridden on Ratha's
back, bearing the brand to kindle this new source-fire. Now
as the flame grew and crackled, it lit the faces of the
borders and Firekeepers who gathered before the den.

"Now the Red Tongue's protection will never fail!"
cried Fessran, and to Ratha's surprise, she gave a joyous
leap into the air with her (reeling on her back. She
landed a little awkwardly, for her injured foreleg was
still weak, but she gave Ratha a grin and jumped up again.

The sense of celebration was contagious, and every-
one began circling the glowing mouth of the fire-shelter,
their coats gleaming in the rain. They sprang and whirled.
Even Thakur joined in, with Aree bouncing between his
shoulders. It was all the (reeling could do to hold on.
but the shine in her eyes was excitement, not fear.

Only Ratha held herself back. The circle of dancers
seemed to be overlaid by another image that floated be-
fore her eyes. That too was a dance, the terrifying frenzy
of those who threw themselves into the heated air in the
cave, whose eyes shimmered with cruelty and the worship
of the fierce light in their center. It was all before her
again, the sound, the smell and the racing of her heart
until she wanted to cry aloud to end it.

257

The fire-creature of her dream was there too, rising
out of the name's center with a shape that was and was
not the form of the Named. But as it reared up to claw
at the roof of the cave, it seemed to falter and sink back
down as the roar of the fire grew muted and the flame
itself dwindled ,., until it was just a glow from the mouth
of an earthen den and the dancers about her were her peo-
ple and her friends. The shimmer in their eyes was joy,
and the firelight shone on their power and grace.

Yes, they could dance before the Red Tongue, giving
thanks for the light, the warmth and the protection it
gave. And they could see the beauty in its strength and
rejoice in that without seeking to make it a weapon for
others to fear.

And suddenly the dance changed- The treelings had
joined in, leaping in a counter-circle from one dancer to
the next as if weaving them together.

In a moment, Ratharee sprang from Ratha's back into
the ring of dancers. Rain sparkled on her pelt as she
scampered along Thakur's back and launched herself onto
Fessran's withers.

"The only way you'll get her back is to join in," yowled
Bira as Ratharee bounced onto the young Firekeeper as
she danced around the circle.

And Ratha did.

Later, when exhaustion laid the Named and treelings
together in a sprawl amid the soggy grass, Racha lifted
her head wearily to see happy lolling tongues all around
her.

"You've got the longest one," she teased, swatting
Fessran playfully. "Stuff it back in your mouth." The
treelings scampered out of the way as the two wrestled
like cubs and then broke away, panting at each other.

The rain stopped. Those of the clan picked (bcrosel1
up and went back to their duties or their dens. Fessi-
and Thakur rose together and he offered to walk back wa
Ritha to her lair.

"No, I want to stay here awhile," she said. She watch
them leave and listened to the far-off lowing of hcrdbe* .
and the muted crackle of the source-fire in its shelter.
Soon she would have to call someone to watch wet '
while she went to her den, but for now she could b
alone.

She felt Ratharec climb onto her and curl up on h
flank. She yawned and sensed a quiet contentment cree
ing owr her. Although she and her people had sufien
much, they were still alive and together. They wou
mourn the ones who died, Shomia, Nyang and the Fil
keepen. And Shongshar? Perhaps only she would Til
his bones beneath the pine.

y«J, / will mourn him, she thought. It was grief tha
made bum seek such a dark frail. And fw has taught m».
Usson that I will not forgot, awn though it is bitter.
must turn to f^ad the hunger of my peopU that doas »
asA for food,, for I know now that a laadar doas wit n
only by stnngth and wUL

And she lay chinking, with the orange glow casting h
shadow on the grass until it ins nearly dawn. Again a
had found a new way for henelf and her people, and tl
time she would lead them not only with strength ai
persistence, but che cue of her newly found wisdom. S
lifted her heftd and narrowed her eyes at the sun as Jc EC.
owr the trees tnd spilled its firit light on clan ground-