the epicentre of that deadly retaliation but she had to
armour her mind against grief and focus on how to snare
the other Ezgara and keep him alive ... then something
came back to her, an image caught by her Enhanced-cre-
ated perfect recall - the bright heat that flared in the
bound Ezgara's mouth, and the way the skin of his neck
and upper chest split along white-hot lines. She recalled
that instant before the vithni link broke, the intense con-
centration in the man's face, the relentless effort - if these
Ezgara could trigger that self-destruction at will, then
their remaining quarry would have to be subdued
quickly then rendered unconscious before a second oblit-
eration could take place.
Listener Josu was waiting for her on the meeting
branch of a small harvest town called Sweetseed - it was
really four large branches interwoven over a pool, plat-
formed with mats and decorated with fragrant blooms
and flowering creepers. The townsfolk stayed out of
sight, except for an elder Scholar who brought cups of
emel juice on a tray for them both then went back inside.
'We have stayed our hand as you instructed,
Pathmistress,' Josu said. 'Are the intruders more dan-
gerous than you thought? We heard a loud explosion.'
Cat explained what she had seen and what she knew,
about which Josu was initially sceptical until one of
Okass's scholars arrived to report the tragedy. Seven
Uvovo were dead, including Listener Okass, and when
questioned he confirmed Cat's account, his words
emphasised by his wounds.
'We must take this other one alive,' Cat said, even as
doubt gnawed at her. Seven dead, from my negligence. 'It
is vital that we find out the Hegemony's intentions, even
if it's only the wee bit that a soldier might know, and I
want to know more about these Ezgara - if they're
Human, we've got to find out where they're from.'
'They have fearsome strength, Pathmistress,' said the
young scholar. 'How can we overcome the other one?'
Nodding, Cat turned to Listener Josu. 'We cannot
afford to have him conscious when we capture him. He
must be put to sleep quickly.'
'A powder for breathing or a liquid for under the skin?'
said Josu.
'A powder might affect those restraining him,' Cat
said. 'So, a liquid - do you have something in mind?'
Josu smiled. 'Ortka root - it is common to this area
and its core sap is easy to extract. For the Uvovo it
relaxes the muscles and thoughts but for Humans it is a
mind-taker.'
'And how quickly does it act?'
'I once saw a Human treated with it, an elder female
who had injured herself while travelling far away in
Segrana - it took effect in four, perhaps five heartbeats.'
Cat nodded. 'Well, this guy is young, fit and well-
trained, so have several doses prepared.'
After that they moved swiftly on from Sweetseed,
Listener Josu racing ahead to organise the gathering of
the ortha while the young scholar returned to his injured
comrades and Cat progressed at the trictra's more sedate
speed, a tense anxiety thrumming in her neck and shoul-
ders. The further the hunt moved away from the site of
the explosion, the more forest creatures were out and
about foraging or engaged in hunts of their own.
Focusing her mind on the bond with Segrana, her senses
widened and spread outwards, showing her glimpses of
what Segrana saw, the sounds she heard, and other sen-
sations for which taste and smell were only
approximations. Just as she could still feel the deathpain
of the Uvovo killed by the Ezgara self-destruct and the
sorrow of the others' loss, she could also sense the
second Ezgara, his passage through the green weave of
forest-floor undergrowth, his relentless, crushing pace.
Segrana knew, felt him journeying through her but she
needed Catriona to look, to see, to find and not to yield.
Thus Cat caught flashes of him in the gloom with
the eyes of a bird or a reptile or a baro, his speed slow-
ing gradually, since he probably reckoned that he had
outstripped his pursuers. By now, Cat had caught up
with the body of Josu's scholars, who deferred to her
with a reverential attitude she didn't feel was justified,
yet she was too preoccupied to make a show of disap-
proval. Then Listener Josu arrived with two local
Listeners, one short, one tall, both Of them wizened
but wiry. Also he brought three cloth pouches, each
containing four reed stalks, their tips sharpened, fire-
hardened and soaked in gleaming ortha sap. These he
gave to three trusted scholars with the instruction that
the intruder be struck on his bare skin with three
stalks. Then he introduced the two locals to Cat - the
tall one was called Gruanu, the short one Hiskaja -
and pointed out that they knew of an ideal place for an
ambush. Cat listened, questioned them and Josu,
thought on it for a moment or two and gave her assent.
'Don't forget, Josu,' she said. 'We need this one alive.'
'This we understand, Pathmistress.'
Half an hour later, the final moves of the pursuit were
played out among the shadowy trees that clustered near
the foot of a sheer, mossy cliff. In the murky gloom,
groups of Uvovo converged on the Ezgara's position
only to veer off or retreat, feints meant to distract or
startle. Then another group made their way from
branch to branch overhead, moving above the intruder,
prompting him to open fire - when he did so, they
dropped nets full of leaves, small forest creatures and
even a pagma nest or two to confuse him while the
Uvovo on the ground started racing towards him from
all directions.
Realising the danger, he swung his autorifle down
and fired off an arc of razor splines, not seeing the pair
of Uvovo swinging down out of the branches. They
crashed onto his shoulders and knocked him to the
ground. He twisted as he fell, lower arms producing
blades that hacked and stabbed, slashing one Uvovo
open diagonally from shoulder to hip while the other
rolled and ducked out of range.
He had barely got to his feet when two more Uvovo
burst up out of the ground and ran at him, dragging
between them a rope that hooked his feet from under
him. He fell, arms flying wide, and one daring Uvovo
lunged in with a weighted sticky net, tangled it around
the Ezgara's weapon and wrenched it out of his grasp.
After that it was almost a free-for-all with most of the
Uvovo diving on the intruder, trying to tie up his limbs
and subdue him.
Cat had guided her trictra onto a tree branch over-
head and watched as they bound up his artificial lower
arms then pulled off the helmet and armoured jacket,
coping as swiftly as they could with unfamiliar clips and
fastenings. As soon as the man's n
eck and chest were
uncovered, two of the pouch-carriers came in close, the
third lying wounded off in the dark. Three drugged
reeds punctured the man's skin, then everyone hurriedly
retreated to watch from about 20 feet away. The Ezgara,
who was definitely Human, writhed and struggled
against his bonds but his movements quickly slowed
until only his head was moving, sluggishly shaking from
side to side as if in denial, his mutters slurring and even-
tually falling silent, motionless.
Then began the wait. Cat knew that it had taken
roughly five minutes from the point when the first
Ezgara was captured to his self-destruction, so she was
determined to let fifteen minutes elapse this time. Silence
fell in the darkening jungle, abandoned by larger crea-
tures chased away by the violent confrontation. At last,
when the vigil was over, Listener Josu approached cau-
tiously while Cat directed her trictra down to the forest
floor. A couple of the Uvovo brought out ineka beetles
so at least there was a little light.
'He is unconscious, Pathmistress,' Josu said. 'And he
will remain so for the rest of the night.'
Four or five hours, Cat reckoned as she knelt beside
the sleeping man. I hope that's enough time to get that
bomb out of you.
He was handsome, in a graze-cut, square-jawed way,
dark-haired, thick eyebrows, quite full lips - in fact,
there was a vaguely Scandic look to him. Peering closer,
she saw that he had a small symbol tattooed just
beneath his right ear, a red wolf's head. Then she laid
her hand on his chest, just below his neck, but as soon
as she touched his skin she gasped and snatched her
hand away. Nervous whispers passed around and some
of the UvovO began to back off.
'What did you feel, Pathmistress?' said Josu from
nearby.
Felt and saw, she thought. There had been a feeling
of great danger from under the man's skin ... and a
strange, momentary vision she decided to keep to her-
self.
'Something inside him,' she said. 'Something ...' She
touched his face and his uncovered hands with one fin-
gertip and got the same sensation.
'In his blood,' said someone.
Glancing round she saw the two local Listeners star-
ing down at the man, those sunken eyes wide and
unblinking, an intense, twofold gaze.
'His blood?' said Cat.
'A strange fluid, invisible to his body's defences,' said
the taller one.
'. . . but dangerous,' said his short companion. 'When
mingled with the other fluid . . .'
Cat grimaced - they were describing a binary explo-
sive, two inert liquids which became unstable when
mixed. So the other component had to be in some sort
of container that shared a membrane with a main
artery . ..
The shorter Listener seemed to read her mind and
leaned forward to prod the sleeping man's chest. 'Here,
a sac lies by the blood flow.' Those hooded, piercing
eyes regarded her. 'Remove the blood-borne fluid by fil-
tration and he will live. Otherwise . . .'
'Filtration?' She knew that Uvovo healers employed
certain kinds of filtration roots in response to particular
maladies, removing impurities from the blood. But for
Humans . . .
'Could that work for a non-Uvovo?' she asked Josu.
'For a Human?'
'It has never been practised on a Human,' Josu said.
'It may kill him, Pathmistress, but left alone he would
choose death, that much is clear.'
She nodded. 'Aye, there's more than just a touch of
death-or-glory conditioning about them, that's for sure.
Okay, we'll do it - while keeping a close eye on his well-
being.'
With this agreed, the Listeners directed the strongest
of the Scholars to carry the bound and sleeping sol her
at shoulder height while others helped the injured or
brought along the bodies of the Uvovo who had die! in
the fight. As she watched them move off in procession,
her thoughts went back to the strange vision that had
flashed into her mind's eye while examining the Human
Ezgara - for one vivid instant she had seen Greg, lying
seeming asleep at the foot of a curious, many-stemmed
bush from which several pale tendrils trailed to either
side of his head, joined to the skin. Chel sat nearby,
swathed in long, dark robes, keeping watch over him.
Why had Segrana shown her this? Was it a concocted
image meant to allay her fears, or a glimpse of some-
thing that was real?
For a moment she put a hand over her eyes, finger
and thumb massaging an ache in her temples. Then she
straightened and called her trictra over, knowing her
personal worries would have to wait until this situation
was resolved.
49
CHEL
It was late afternoon, almost twenty-four hours since the
escape from the Hegemony envoy's fortified villa and
more than twenty since their arrival at Glenkrylov, a
daughter-forest situated in a shallow valley a few miles
south of Waonwir. It had been Cheluvahar's idea to
bring Greg here in the hope that the root-scholars might
find a way to draw out the enslaving dust of the
Dreamless. The scholars persevered for many hours,
testing a variety of bush and vine filter roots in different
combinations until Chel, with his singular perceptions,
was able to confirm that they had arrived at a safe and
effective arrangement. After Greg had been sedated with
ortha root extract, Chel settled down to keep watch
with all his eyes, studying the diminishing presence of
those baleful motes.
At the same time he was coping with a steady stream of
visitors, Uvovo who were arriving at the forest in twos
and threes or more, fleeing the towns and especially
Hammefgard, where squads of Brolturan troops were
detaining all Uvovo 'on suspicion of collusion with ter-
rorist agitators'. It seemed that the new Unity government
had quickly brought in repressive measures in exchange
for Brolturan aid in securing law and order. Paradoxically,
one of these measures had been the disbanding and dis-
arming of the Darien Volunteer Corps, as well as the
reorganisation of local law enforcement and the arming of
certain police units.
So these escaped Uvovo had to be provided with
food and shelter (and healing in some cases), then
formed into small bands and dispatched to those secret
Burrows and other refuges off in the western hinter-
lands. Then there was his role as Seer, which carried the
previously unsuspected burden of providing reassur-
ance as well as arbitration in disputes between
Listeners. After some eleven hours of this he could feel
his mind crumbling under the strain, his perceptions
gnawed at by weariness. So, covering his eyes, he left
Greg in the care o
f the healer Najuk, and went to climb
a nearby beholder tree, seeking relaxation and a change
of perspective.
Beholder trees were chosen for their height and stur-
diness, which meant that they were usually rakins, on
both Umara and the moon. Also, their bark had many
knots and wrinkles which provided plentiful hand- and
footholds. As he climbed, Chel could feel the kinks and
aches beginning to ease, and his torpidity dissolve as
the exercise stirred his essential forces. He breathed deep
as he moved higher, enjoying the odours and sensation
of replenishment that percolated through him.
About a third of the way to the canopy, voices came
to him through the leaves, Human voices, and he slowed
to seek out the source. Then clambered up onto a thick
limb and saw them seated and sprawled on a matted
platform fixed to the forked branch of a nearby tree.
Seeing Rory and one of the Firmanov brothers among
them he waved and Rory waved back.
'How's that patient o' yours, Chel?'
'Much better,' Chel called across. 'He improves by
the hour.'
'Any chance he'll be back on his feet in a coupla
hours?'
Chel shook his head. 'Not before tomorrow, I think,
Rory. When he wakes he will be weak and will need
food and rest. Are you planning to leave the forest?'
'Aye .. . well, mebbe, when we've figured out how
tae go lookin' for the Major.'
'Will you be going soon?'
'In a few hours, I reckon - we'll drop in and say our
g'byes before we scarper.'
Chel nodded and they exchanged waves again as he
resumed his climb.
A short while later he reached one of the cloudsteps,
the highest and narrowest of the beholder trees' plat-
forms. A cold and steady breeze stirred the surrounding
foliage, bringing fleeting fragrant whiffs, and he could
feel the entire trunk sway very slightly. All around were
masses of rustling leaves, of shifting treetops over which
insects darted and buzzed, tempting birds to swoop and
snatch in midflight. Occasional afternoon sunshine
broke through the clouds yet it was dry and warm, the
air so clear that he could look eastward across the grey
expanse of Loch Morwen to the small islands clustered
near the mouth of the Gangradur River.
More important, however, was the northerly
Michael Cobley - Humanity's Fire book 1 Page 47
