Part 42 (1/2)
She inclined her head. ”Yes, you do.”
Storm frowned at her. ”They are my friends, Shaw, and they've helped me.”
Shaw sighed. ”In my youth, I was not in favor of telshee involvement with land animals. I said it would lead to wars and death, and I was right. I argued with Keesha for days over his decision to get involved with ferryshaft matters. It will amuse him no end to learn that I am now providing denning arrangements for a pack of curbs.”
Storm smiled. ”You must have been desperate when you sent that ely-ary after me.”
”I was,” agreed Shaw.
Eyal observed this exchange in respectful silence. He did not seem offended by Shaw's rude behavior. ”We are grateful for your folly,” he said, when Shaw paused.
That made her laugh. ”As long as you understand that's what it is.”
”How soon will you have pups?” asked Storm. ”Do you have them only in spring like ferryshaft do, or...”
”We will have our first litters as soon as the females have gained enough weight to come into season,” said Eyal. ”Right now, they are too thin. It won't be long, though, on this kind of diet.”
”Will they both...be your mates?” Storm had been curious about this from the start, but uncertain of how to ask. He'd seen no fighting among the curbs as they crossed the plain, even though there were only two females and eight males. He'd wondered whether Eyal received mating rights by default because he was the leader.
Eyal c.o.c.ked his head. ”We are a pack. The pups will be pups of the pack.”
Shaw snorted above Storm's head. ”Curbs believe a pup can have eight fathers,” she said. ”Perhaps their pups can...but I doubt it.”
A look of annoyance crossed Eyal's face. Storm thought he would have liked to say something rude to Shaw, but held it back out of grat.i.tude for her gifts.
”Curbs are very odd animals,” continued Shaw airily.
Storm turned to stare at her. ”You...who lay eggs and are both male and female...you are calling someone else an 'odd animal'?”
Eyal gave a bark of laughter.
Shaw looked irritated at both of them. ”Wait until you see their pups,” she told Storm. ”You will understand what I mean.”
”Our pups will be charming and delightful,” Eyal a.s.sured Storm, still grinning. ”Now I will help the others gather bedding material. Thank you again, Shaw.”
Storm watched as several curbs trotted away up the long, steep pa.s.sage that lead, eventually, to the boulder mazes. The curbs had refused to stay in Syriot without some sort of path to the surface, and they'd been shown four caves before approving this one. Storm had used every appeal to Shaw's good will to get her to allow it. ”We can barely protect ourselves!” she had argued. ”How are we supposed to protect a pack of curbs?”
”They don't need protection,” Storm had said. ”They just need a place to hide from the lowland curbs while they have their babies.”
”They will be having babies indefinitely!” exclaimed Shaw.
”Well, until there are more of them, then.”
”And what happens when your friends get killed by lishties? I won't be responsible for that.”
”They think they've got a better chance down here,” Storm had said. ”Please, Shaw.”
Storm hoped he'd done the right thing. The curbs certainly seemed grateful. Almost unwillingly, Storm said, ”I should go see Sauny.”
Shaw hesitated. ”It will be a while yet before we know-”
”Yes,” said Storm, trying to keep the snap out of his voice. ”You've said that.” The brief joy of seeing the curbs settling into their new home evaporated, and he felt suddenly tired and cold. But it's not Shaw's fault. He thought of trying to apologize and decided it would be better to just remove himself.
”I know the way,” he said over his shoulder. He was relieved that she did not try to escort him. In spite of her concerns about lishties, this part of Syriot was telshee-dominated territory not far from the Cave of Histories. From what Storm could gather, lishty sightings here were rare.
He followed the tunnels deeper into the earth, sometimes wading through shallow water, occasionally swimming small rivers. Sometimes the acriss lit his way, and sometimes Storm walked in darkness. He'd gotten used to that-to finding his way by feel and smell and memory. He did not think he would ever get used to never feeling the sun on his face. But Sauny may have to. That thought chilled him.
Storm pa.s.sed telshees occasionally in the caves. They'd grown accustomed to his presence and paid no attention to him. The distant strains of their humming mingled oddly and echoed from far off in the caverns. Storm heard the healing cave before he reached it-a low, throbbing, harmonized hum that made him feel simultaneously wide-eyed and sleepy.
The pool where they'd placed Sauny was not deep. It was barely large enough for her body, though it connected to a larger pool nearby. A pup's pool, Storm found himself thinking. Well, she is a pup, isn't she?
He was pleased to find her awake today. Valla was talking to her quietly. Sauny did not appear to be attending. She was staring vacantly at the floor, her head draped over the side of the basin. Storm sat down opposite Valla. ”h.e.l.lo, Sauny.”
Her eyes flicked at him briefly and then away.
”Do you remember what I told you about the curbs?” asked Storm. ”Well, they finally found a cave they like. They're going to have their babies down here. Would you like to play with curb pups?”
Sauny didn't answer. Valla glanced at Storm over Sauny's head. Her eyes looked tired.
”Have you tried to stand yet today?” asked Storm, refusing to be dismal.
For answer, Sauny heaved herself up in the water. She tottered there for a moment, balanced on three legs, trembling with effort and grimacing with pain. Her mangled left foreleg moved clumsily and did not support her weight. Half-healed wounds all along the left side of her body continued to gape and ooze. Sauny flopped back down in the water, facing away from Valla and Storm. ”Leave me alone,” she muttered.
”I think that's better than yesterday,” Valla tried.
”No,” interrupted Sauny, ”it isn't. I want to sleep. Please let me sleep.”
”You've slept for days,” said Storm. ”You need to move around.”
”You should have let me die,” whispered Sauny.
Bleak helplessness descended on Storm as it had so often over the last few days. The telshees didn't think that Sauny would ever walk normally again. When she'd first arrived in Syriot, they'd wanted to snip off her leg with their teeth-an idea that had horrified Valla. The telshees said that the leg would never work properly and that the wounds might poison the rest of Sauny's body. Valla had insisted that Sauny would rather take the chance. Storm thought she was probably right, although a lame leg wasn't much better than a stump in the end.
She will never again run on cliff trails, he thought. Never play tag on the ice, never hunt properly, never win another fight. The thought of his vivacious, beautiful sister limping her way painfully through life made him want to sit down and howl in desolation.
To make matters worse, Sauny was smart enough to understand the implications of her situation. Storm had not seen her smile once since he arrived. Last season, Sauny would have been thrilled to meet a telshee and fascinated by Syriot. She would have asked endless questions. Now, she said nothing and barely raised her head.
Valla admitted that, when Sauny woke, she'd insisted on hearing the truth about the battle. Valla had told her what little she knew, including several deaths of foals in Sauny's clique. Storm did not know these ferryshaft, but Sauny took the news hard. Storm did not want to tell either Sauny or Valla about Faralee or Mylo, but they eventually pried the truth out of him.
Since his arrival, Storm had spent at least as much time trying to arrange a denning site for the highland curbs as he'd spent with Sauny. He did not think he could bear sitting in that drowsy cave, thinking about everything he'd lost. Valla did-somehow. She'd gotten one of the humming telshees to teach her to read and sometimes practiced making their signs with little lines of pebbles on the stone floor.
When Storm stopped to puzzle out what she was writing, he found she'd written the names of dead friends...over and over. We all mourn in our own way.