by Andre Norton
BEAST MASTER’S QUEST
TOR BOOKS BY ANDRE NORTON
BEAST MASTER
(with Lyn McConchie)
Beast Master’s Ark
Beast Master’s Circus
Beast Master’s Quest
The Crystal Gryphon
Dare to Go A-Hunting
Flight in Yiktor
Forerunner
Forerunner: The Second Venture
Here Abide Monsters
Moon Called
Moon Mirror
The Prince Commands
Ralestone Luck
Stand and Deliver
Three Hands for Scorpio
Wheel of Stars
Wizards’ Worlds
The Gates to Witch World
(omnibus comprising
Witch World, Web of the Witch World, and Year of the Unicorn)
The Solar Queen
(omnibus comprising
Sargasso of Space and Plague Ship)
Grandmasters’ Choice (Editor)
The Jekyll Legacy (with Robert Bloch)
Gryphon’s Eyrie (with A. C. Crispin)
Songsmith (with A. C. Crispin)
Caroline (with Enid Cushing)
Firehand (with P. M. Griffin)
Redline the Stars (with P. M. Griffin)
Sneeze on Sunday (with Grace Allen Hogarth)
The Duke’s Ballad (with Lyn McConchie)
Silver May Tarnish (with Lyn McConchie)
House of Shadows (with Phyllis Miller)
Empire of the Eagle (with Susan Shwartz)
Imperial Lady (with Susan Shwartz)
Quag Keep (with Jean Rabe)
Return to Quag Keep (with Jean Rabe)
WITCH WORLD: THE TURNING
I Storms of Victory (with P. M. Griffin)
II Flight of Vengeance (with P. M. Griffin and Mary Schaub)
III On Wings of Magic (with Patricia Mathews and Sasha Miller)
CAROLUS REX
(with Rosemary Edghill)
The Shadow of Albion
Leopard in Exile
THE HALFBLOOD CHRONICLES
(with Mercedes Lackey)
The Elvenbane
Elvenblood
Elvenborn
THE OAK, YEW, ASH, AND ROWAN CYCLE
(with Sasha Miller)
To the King a Daughter
Knight or Knave
A Crown Disowned
Dragon Blade
THE SOLAR QUEEN
(with Sherwood Smith)
Derelict for Trade
A Mind for Trade
THE TIME TRADERS
(with Sherwood Smith)
Echoes in Time
Atlantis Endgame
THE WITCH WORLD
(Editor)
Four from the Witch World
Tales from the Witch World 1
Tales from the Witch World 2
Tales from the Witch World 3
MAGIC IN ITHKAR
(Editor, with Robert Adams)
Magic in Ithkar 1
Magic in Ithkar 2
Magic in Ithkar 3
Magic in Ithkar 4
BEAST MASTER’S QUEST
Andre Norton and Lyn McConchie
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This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this novel are either fictitious or are used fictitiously.
BEAST MASTER’S QUEST
Copyright © 2006 by The Estate of Andre Norton and by Lyn McConchie
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.
This book is printed on acid-free paper.
Edited by James Frenkel
A Tor Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
175 Fifth Avenue
New York, NY 10010
www.tor.com
Tor® is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Norton, Andre.
Beast master’s quest / Andre Norton and Lyn McConchie.— 1st ed.
p. cm.
“A Tom Doherty Associates Book.”
ISBN-13: 978-0-765-31453-6
ISBN-10: 0-765-31453-3
1. Human-animal communication—Fiction. 2. Life on other planets—Fiction. 3. Circus performers—Fiction. 4. Space colonies—Fiction. I. McConchie, Lyn, 1946– II. Title.
PS3527.O632B59 2006
813’.52—dc22
2005033822
First Edition: June 2006
Printed in the United States of America
0 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Dedication
To Rachel Denk in L.A.,
in memory of Winnie and McArthur
and playing frisbee in the park with Harley.
To Nancy Atherton,
whose Aunt Dimity books have cheered and amused me so
often, and in memory of her beloved Scooter-Pie
and Miss Mousehole.
And to Tiger, adored prototype for Prauo—gone before.
—L. McC.
Acknowledgments
First and always to Andre, who shared her worlds with me as the ultimate playground. And to her caregivers, Sue and Ollie Stewart.
To my editor, Jim Frenkel, who patiently puts up with my inability to spell.
To Barbara Clenden and the staff of Barbara’s Books, who supply me with so many great authors—mailing them to me on the spot when I run out of things to read and anxiously phone them.
To Dean Brown and Dianne Mangin, who help me with the farm—allowing me time to write—and share my love of animals.
To Jan Williamson, who has patiently driven me into town many times to do research in our library.
And to Judith, Jean, and Darren in said library, who have always managed to find me the information I needed.
Thanks, guys, I owed you this one.
—L. McC.
BEAST MASTER’S QUEST
Chapter One
Two riders hurtled across the edge of the desert, laughing and whooping. In front of them raced an old frawn bull, his nostrils red-rimmed partly from his rasping breaths but partly also from mounting fury. He was lord of the desert fringe, and these creatures presumed to hunt him as though he were a rock-rabbit? He would show them! He slowed as his rage gained the upper hand.
Beside the riders ran a great catlike creature, tall and rangy of limb, driven by powerful ropy muscles which bunched and flowed as he easily kept up with the horses. The catlike creature was possessed of a skull which held ample room for a good brain. His coloring was black and gold, the shorter black fur sheathing face, tail, and legs, while longer golden fur flowed over the trunk. From his black-masked face, intelligent eyes of a rich light purple looked out on a world Prauo still found infinitely interesting, particularly when in the company of his own human and her beloved.
It was the feline, Prauo, who saw the frawn bull’s intention first. He mind-sent speedily:
*Furless-sister, beware! The beast turns at bay.*
Laris reined aside so quickly it might have seemed to an onlooker that thought and action were one. As she did so she cri
ed a warning to Logan Quade.
“Look out, swing wide!”
But her cry had been fractions of a second too late. The bulky animal had come around with a speed and agility almost unbelievable in so large a beast. Horns hooked as the startled horse leaped backwards, rearing onto its hind legs with a wild twist as it attempted to avoid the lethal armament of the frawn bull. It did so, but the right horn slid under the saddle girth, and, as the bull jerked back savagely, the girth parted.
Logan landed hard on the unyielding ground, his body rolling over as his head hit the concrete-hard surface. He gave a small groan as he slumped, briefly stunned. But that fleeting moment was all the bull would require. It spun and returned, eyes red with fury, head already lowering to scoop and toss. Then it would gore the life from this upstart on its world. It would . . .
But Prauo was there already, standing over his human’s beloved, a slow, shuddering thunder in his throat. He was small in comparison to the massive old frawn bull, but the claws and teeth he bared were not to be despised, even in comparison with the horns and brute power of the frawn.
This was an old wild-born bull; he’d never been a member of the semidomesticated herds of Arzoran ranchers. In his time he’d fought to survive against long odds and here again he was smart enough to see the threat to his survival.
He slowed, considering. It would be a satisfaction to kill, but would that be worth the damage he might sustain from this odd creature? He decided it would, and lunged forward. But his hesitation had been all that was necessary. Riding like her sister-in-law who was half Cheyenne, Laris came racing in hard, spinning her horse to slow it beside Logan.
“Up behind me, quickly!”
He staggered to his feet, obeyed the urgent tug of her hand, and, still slightly giddy from the blow to his head, mounted clumsily behind her. Laris sent her mount racing away.
Prauo made a threatening dart at the frawn bull. It lowered its massive head and almost snarled at him. Prauo snarled back. The bull felt honor was satisfied and, snorting still in irritation, trotted ponderously towards the east. It was closing on sun-high, and temperatures were rising. It was better to drowse in the shade of desert scrub than to stand bandying threats with this creature.
Prauo grinned after it. They’d both been bluffing to some extent. He’d prefer not to fight something that size and with a male frawn’s weapons, but then the bull had felt the same way. Prauo trotted off to round up the grazing horse and herd it back to stand beside its lost saddle. Laris came walking her mount back, a now clearer-headed Logan arguing from behind her as they came.
“Dad wouldn’t want that bull on our range. You know what an old rogue is like. He’ll steal frawn cows, fight other bulls, and he’s a danger to anyone who comes across him, especially if he sees them first. We should go after him.”
Laris snorted. “Nope. Not after that spill. We go back to the ranchhouse and have the med-cabinet check you over. Then we see what Brad thinks.”
“I hate that damned med-cabinet. All it ever says is—” he imitated the computer-voice, “Please stand in the cabinet, please shut the door, thank you, your assistance is appreciated.” Laris was giggling so Logan continued, exaggerating the nasal whine of the med-kit. He loved to make her laugh; there’d been too little laughter in her life until he’d met her, almost a year ago.
“Please do not fidget, it is counterproductive. It may be an indication you have fleas. I can recommend a good insecticide. Please do not laugh, it is counter-productive as I cannot focus my instruments, I must administer a sedative if you do not stop. It may in addition be an indication you have Jolly disease. I can recommend . . .”
By this time he was laughing too hard to continue and Laris was bent over her horse’s mane almost crying with laughter. It wasn’t only what Logan said, it was also the perfect imitation of the computer voice, and she could just imagine it saying that sort of thing if the cabinet occupant fidgeted or laughed too long.
Prauo was sitting nearby, his tongue lolling out of his mouth in his own expression of amusement. Once they’d tried the med-cabinet for a deep scrape he’d acquired in chasing grass-hens. The poor machine—one of the older, larger, and more basic models—had almost had a nervous breakdown.
Prauo didn’t have hands to operate the buttons intended for human fingers. Laris had shut herself in with him to do that and the med-cabinet had given them all sorts of warnings about being overweight, along with suggestions for diet.
Logan shrugged. Machines, they were useful, but it was as well to have intelligent beings operating them. They could compensate for the machine’s inflexibility. He managed to stop chuckling as he moved to re-saddle his mount. Riders usually carried a small repair kit with an awl and leather thongs in a saddlebag. He could lash the girth together temporarily and it would hold until they reached home, so long as he stayed at a walk.
With the saddle secured again he mounted, and they turned their horses to ride towards home. He remembered then what he had seen as he reeled up from the ground.
“Prauo? Thanks for that. If you hadn’t held him off me I might have been left in no shape for even the cabinet to fix.”
Prauo’s mind-voice resonated warmly within Logan’s head. *I believe the human term is ‘you’re welcome,’ Logan.*
“You know, I can’t believe how well you manage to speak to people now.”
*I too wonder at times.*
Laris chimed in. “I know, you wonder how it is you are intelligent, if it’s natural, and if so . . .”
*From where, then, do I come? From what world and people? Yes, I question such things. It does not eat at me as your own heritage ate at you, sister, but all intelligent beings wonder at times, and now and again I do. There is another thing I wonder: If I am the cub of an intelligent race, what lies in my genes? Will I continue to change? What if medical problems common to my people arise?*
Logan sobered, reflecting that for someone who didn’t find the mystery of his heritage eating at him, Prauo certainly had a few questions. They were valid ones, as well, Logan reflected. It wasn’t impossible that in times to come Prauo could find mental or physical problems arose which could only be remedied by knowing his background. It was something Brad had said privately to Storm and Logan at the time Laris came to stay and they had first met the big feline.
“What do you recall of your world? Anything at all?” Logan asked.
*No, Laris has told me the tale of my finding, but from that time I remember nothing myself. Only cold and fear, loneliness, and hunger.*
“Laris?” Logan questioned. “What do you remember?”
“The circus was on Fremlyn. We’d set down only that evening. I’d cared for all the animals and I was walking around the edge of the port. It was the old port, so there was no real perimeter; it just ran out from plascrete into scrubby grass on the outside edge opposite the port buildings. It was full dark, but the stars were out and the two moons were up, so I could see well enough. It was quiet, too, so I was listening to the birds.
“I heard something crying. It sounded small, like a little animal in pain. I went looking and found Prauo. He was tiny then, about the size of a six-month-old Terran kitten. His markings were already there but very pale. Fawn and brown—not black and gold. He looked up at me and said his name.”
Logan blinked, “What?”
“Prauo, he said. Prauo.” Laris smiled as she imitated the chirping wail of a kitten imploring her for help.
“So that’s why you called him that. Okay, go on.”
“There’s nothing more to tell. I took him back to the ship, fed him, looked after him, and Dedran said I could keep the beast if I wanted and he’d better turn out to be useful.”
They all went silent for a period, remembering just how useful Prauo and Laris had proved to be to the circus boss who was also a member of the Thieves Guild. Dedran had coerced them both into industrial espionage, outright theft, and spying for him. It had only been with the death of Dedran
and the authorities’ dissolution of the circus that both Prauo and Laris had become truly free.
The horses walked on, Prauo pacing at their side. Logan nodded to him thoughtfully. “I think your intelligence is natural. None of the other nonhuman races are experimenting to produce intelligence.”
“That we know about,” Laris cut in.
“I’d suspect Terran Intelligence would know, and if they thought Prauo was the result of nonhuman experiments, someone would have said. Dad has contacts there. They said nothing and they do know about Prauo, so I don’t think that’s it. They keep a close eye on the Thieves Guild, too, and the human-settled worlds. No, I believe that Prauo came from a world whose inhabitants are intelligent.”
Laris nodded. “So someone landed on that world and picked up a pet kitten, not knowing its people were—well—people.”
“The question is, why would Prauo have been discarded?” They both turned to look down at Prauo. He looked back, considering the question.
*I recall feeling fear and perhaps—disgust. I was a cub, very young. It is possible the emotions I was registering were not my own.*
Laris gave a yelp. “Of course. Prauo, I didn’t only hear you crying, I felt it. A kind of unhappiness, a plea for comfort. What if the person who stole you felt that, too, and became frightened?”
Logan grinned. “That’d probably do it. Someone steals a baby alien and it starts making the thief feel things in his head. I can see where that’d panic some idiot dumb enough to pick up a creature from another world and take it away. It likely activated the memory of every scary space story he’d ever heard. He wouldn’t have been able to dump Prauo fast enough.” He considered his theory and expanded on it.
“Okay, so you have the beast-master talent, Laris. You’ve never had training but the raw talent was there and you knew it, although at the time you didn’t have a name for the ability. You already knew you could hear animals, so you didn’t worry about hearing Prauo. But those without the talent are normally mind-deaf to anything. Prauo can make even the deaf hear if he wants to.”
“No . . . ,” Laris began.
