Hunters Unlucky Part 30

"He has," snapped Shaw, her voice finally raised in anger. "I spoke with him recently."

The other telshee sniffed. "Why does no one else ever hear these conversations, Shaw? Keesha sleeps the final sleep. He will never sing again in waking life. We should name a new Syra-lay."

"And who would that be?" growled Shaw over her shoulder. "You?"

The other telshee lowered her head a little. "Of course not. Emyl, if she ever returns." She hesitated. "You, perhaps. You may have all the charm of a leopard seal, but you are at least awake." She said this last like a joke and a peace offering.

Shaw snorted, but didn't turn around. "Come, Storm. You others, well done. Take your rest." The drove dispersed immediately, talking in low voices. They did not look back. Storm felt very alone. He followed Shaw into a pa.s.sage that sloped steeply downwards. It was dark, and they walked for so long that Storm began to grow tired and wished for something to eat and drink. The air grew very warm. At last, he saw the familiar green glow ahead and surmised that they were about to enter a cave with water. He heard something, too-a low, melodic hum that made his skin p.r.i.c.kle.

Shaw turned to him, her face in shadow. "Storm, what you are about to see is not for ferryshaft eyes. Coden was here, it's true, but no other creature, other than telshees. Not even our pups are allowed to come here until they have gone away and returned twice."

"You don't have to-" began Storm, but Shaw hushed him.

"It may take some time to get his attention. I want you to be patient. I saved your life, remember?"

Storm bowed his head. He understood now. Somehow I am supposed to save your friend. "I will do my best, Shaw."

"Thank you." She stopped a little farther on before the opening to a side pa.s.sage. The hum had grown loud. Shaw raised her voice a little over the weird music. "Welcome to the Dreaming Sea."

Chapter 5. Syra-lay.

Storm found himself looking down into a large cavern that was mostly underwater and must have connected to the ocean, because it was rising and falling gently as though with a tide. The water steamed, so that Storm suspected hot springs beneath the surface, and it glowed green with acriss. The ceiling was only half visible, lost in steam and shadow.

A number of extraordinary creatures lay in the water-telshees of immense size. Their furry coils looped across the floor, entwined with each other in a confusion of soggy white. Storm spotted one's head. It could easily have fit Shaw's head in its mouth.

Shaw beckoned him from the water below. "Do you want to jump?"

Storm wasn't sure. It would be a long jump. "How deep is the water?"

"It varies," said Shaw. "The bottom is solid rock and slippery. Will you let me lift you?"

Storm swallowed. He tried not to think about all of her very sharp teeth. "Could you sing me down?" he joked.

Shaw did not laugh. "Perhaps. You wouldn't like it much."

Storm shut his eyes. "Just do it."

He was surprised at how gently she scooped him up. She did not use her mouth, but a coil of her neck. A moment later, he was on the floor in warm, flank-deep water that smelled faintly of minerals and strongly of telshee. Shaw was already sliding away, her body making a faint swish as she navigated the coils of the sleeping giants.

Storm followed her, sometimes walking, sometimes swimming. He stared as they went. The telshees looked dead, and some even had green mold and barnacles crusted in their fur. One had coral growing around him. There were all kinds of fish in the water-not just the white cave fish, but reef fish and crustaceans. They scurried and swam to get away from Shaw and Storm.

Storm knew that the telshees weren't truly dead, no matter how they might look, because they were humming. The sound was low and melodic, and now that Storm moved among them, he could see the vibration on the surface of the water and feel it in the stone beneath his feet. The sound was incredibly soothing. Listening to it, Storm thought that he would not mind lying down here among the coral and the brightly colored fish in the soft glow of the acriss and going to sleep...

"Storm!" said Shaw sharply, and he realized that he'd sat down and rested his chin on a coil of white fur. "Do not go to sleep here," she admonished. "It would take me days to wake you!"

"Sorry," muttered Storm as he staggered up. "I didn't realize..." He shook his head and blinked hard. "Talk to me. Why are they all here? Are they really still alive?"

Shaw sighed. "We have a saying in Syriot-that if the world doesn't kill you, it will break your heart. I suppose only the truly ancient understand. I didn't used to, but...I'm beginning. Keesha told me once that they dream of the past-that they relive their long lives, sometimes making changes as they wish. I admit, there are moments when that sounds pleasant."

"Aren't you afraid they'll drown?" asked Storm.

Shaw laughed. "A telshee's nostrils close without conscious effort when her head is underwater, and we can hold our breaths for a long time. If these grow uncomfortable, even in their sleep, they'll s.h.i.+ft their heads." Storm saw that most of the telshees had their heads resting on several loops of their bodies.

Shaw stopped before a hump of white fur. "Storm," she said softly, "this is Syra-lay-Lord of the Deep, oldest of those who wake, and Keesha-that-was."

Storm spied the telshee's head. He was perhaps a third again the size of Shaw-a huge creature, but not so immense as some of the others in the room. He was coiled more neatly than the rest, and his fur was cleaner. Storm thought his humming was a little louder, although it might only be that he was closer.

"Keesha," continued Shaw. "This is Storm Ela-ferry. He has brought you the Shable and some stories that I think you will like. Arcove has been hunting him."

Storm thought that the tone of Keesha's humming changed at the mention of Arcove. The great sides moved in a noticeable breath. Shaw looked pleased. She began to hum along with Keesha. The song mingled in a hypnotic aural dance. It did not make Storm want to sleep. It made him feel restless, which he was sure Shaw intended.

How long this continued, Storm could not have said. He grew hungry enough that he went a little distance away, caught a fish, and ate it. Shaw did not stop him or even acknowledge his leaving. When Storm returned, Keesha was breathing more noticeably, his sides rising and falling as though running a race. He uncoiled, twisting a little in the water as though in discomfort. A growl escaped his lips, and, at last, his great eyes opened. At first, Storm could see only his third eyelid, but then he blinked several times, and the arresting blue of his pupils flashed into view. Keesha groaned and yawned-huge, pink tongue and sharp, white teeth.

"What do you want, Shaw?" His voice was a melodic rumble in the cave. He was still humming, and he did not sound pleased to see his friend.

Shaw answered without breaking her own hum. "I have brought someone to see you."

"I don't want to see anyone," growled Keesha. "I am composing a song. Go away."

Shaw's voice was full of practiced patience. "You've been composing that song for fifteen years. I'm sure you can pause long enough to meet the ferryshaft who's been running Arcove in circles."

"Arcove..." murmured Keesha. "Please tell me he's still alive."

"As far as I know," said Shaw. Storm got the idea that they'd had this conversation before.

"Good," said Keesha. "It would be a great disappointment if someone else killed him."

"I'll help you look for him right now," said Shaw slyly. "Let's go."

Keesha huffed. "You're not serious."

"I am. Let's go find him and kill him, and then you can stop sleeping down here and singing songs full of pain."

"We would probably die," said Keesha.

"Perhaps. I am willing to risk it."

"It wouldn't be enough."

"No revenge is ever enough to bring back the dead," said Shaw. "But I have brought you the next best thing."

Keesha wasn't listening to her. "No, I mean, I have something else in mind for Arc-" He stopped. He'd seen Storm.

Keesha stared. He stared for so long that Storm became uncomfortable. "h.e.l.lo. Shaw says you...you might want to meet...me."

Keesha moved forward, s.h.i.+fting a little clumsily, as though he'd forgotten where all his coils were. He bent his head and sniffed at Storm's ears. Storm held his breath. He won't eat me, he won't eat me, he won't...

"Who is this?" he whispered.

"As I told you," said Shaw with excessive patience, "this is Storm Ela-ferry. I have been telling you about him all winter, but you have not been attending. He's only three years old, and he's been giving the creasia grief since the river froze. Arcove chased him into the Ghost Wood this spring, and I sent an ely-ary to fetch him out. He came as you see him."

Storm realized that Keesha's gaze had fastened on the stone around his neck. "Where did you get that?" whispered the telshee.

A ghost gave it to me. "I found it in Groth."

Keesha's eyes shot to his face, disbelieving. Storm felt a little frustrated. "What is it exactly? Shaw won't tell me. She says it belongs to you."

Keesha moved back a little, blinking. "It doesn't exactly belong to me."

Storm felt baffled.

"Although," continued Keesha, "I suppose that if it belongs to anyone, it's me. We call it the Shable. It opens Kuwee Island."

Storm was surprised. "The little island in Chelby Lake beside the summer feeding grounds? The island we're not supposed to visit? But there's nothing there anyway...except a cave with a telshee on the ceiling."

Keesha laughed in delight. "You've visited it?"

"Yes," said Storm. "I swam out once. There were old bones and a hill with a cave on top and that...that likeness of a telshee on the ceiling."

"It's called a painting," said Keesha, "or a picture. Did you notice anything interesting about it?"

"Well, the telshee was missing one...eye." Storm looked down again at the blue stone with its black core. "Oh."

Keesha smiled. "If you give the telshee her other eye, the cave opens."

"Opens?" Storm was fascinated.

Keesha inclined his head. "Kuwee Island is a fortress-the place where the humans used to live. There are things in Kuwee that even I don't understand."

"What are humans?" asked Storm.

"An intelligent animal that no longer lives on Lidian," said Keesha. "They were very clever. They made things-all kinds of things."

Storm squinted down at the stone. "Like this?"

"Yes," said Keesha. "They were telshee allies once...in the days before ferryshaft and creasia learned to speak. But humans were treacherous and much too powerful. In the end, we had to kill them...or perhaps we drove them away. Some of the telshees sleeping here could probably tell you...if they ever woke."

Keesha shook himself. He reached down, caught the edge of the chain deftly in his teeth, and lifted it from Storm's head. "Thank you for bringing this back to me. I should never have let it out of Syriot. Kuwee Island is a place that should stay locked, and I am glad to know that Arcove does not have the key." Keesha curled up again, tucked the stone somewhere in his coils, and shut his eyes. "I will show my grat.i.tude by not eating you. Please leave now."

Storm made an indignant sputter. He had come to think of the stone as his. "Coden gave that to me, not you."

Keesha opened one huge, blue eye. "Excuse me?"

"When I was lost in Groth," said Storm, "a ghost showed me where to find it." And then he left, and I howled, and the ely-ary came. Would it have found me if I hadn't howled?

Keesha blinked at him. "You saw-"

"Start at the beginning," said Shaw, who'd been listening with signs of mounting impatience. "Tell him what you've been doing all winter."

Storm glanced between them. "Everything?" Not even Shaw had heard the whole story.

"You think you saw Coden's gho-?" began Keesha again, but Shaw interrupted.

"Everything from the beginning, please."

Storm took a deep breath. "Well, if I don't tell you about Kelsy, the rest won't make sense. So I guess I should tell you how I learned to run away."

Chapter 6. Misdirection.

Roup chose to visit Treace in the early morning. The wood was soft with pre-dawn light when he and Lyndi began to pa.s.s the tree-scratches and scent markings that denoted the edge of Treace's territory. They found two separate sets of marks-one for the broader territory and one for the individual den that claimed this patch of wood.

Roup had not sent a messenger to announce his coming, and he did not call out as they pa.s.sed the markings. "Sir?" began Lyndi. She was already bristling a little. All cats found this sort of trespa.s.s uncomfortable, doubly so as they came unannounced. The markings around Treace's territory were particularly aggressive-deep gouges, as though the cat who'd placed them had an abiding hatred for trees.

"Let's just have a look around," said Roup. "They'll find us when they find us."

They encountered the first den a short time later. Treace's territory had very little in the way of natural caves, and the den was dug into the side of a hill amid a thicket. Roup did not approach it, but watched from upwind. A number of cubs were playing around the edge of the thicket. Lyndi tried to count them, but kept losing the number in her agitation. "Shouldn't we go down there and introduce ourselves?" she whispered. "I'm sure one of them knows where Treace is likely to be found at this time of day."

"No," said Roup without looking away.

So it's like that, thought Lyndi with a sinking feeling. She'd wondered why Halvery or Sharmel had not been sent on this errand. You wanted to sneak, oh my crafty leader, and sneaking is dangerous.