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perhaps to learn how closely the jaguar was attending. Certainly, Truth seemed restless.
"When we inside copse," Firekeeper continued, "then we break enough to let you rest in."
" 'We'?" Harjeedian asked.
"Truth think," Firekeeper said, "that she can carry one with her. I am best to go, we think."
This time no one questioned the "we," but Derian thought that - judging from the cant of Blind Seer's tail and ears
- the blue-eyed wolf was less than pleased with this decision. No wonder, as it meant putting Firekeeper at risk, and no
Blind Seer being there to protect her. Derian wondered if there might be something more. He hadn't forgotten
Firekeeper's description of how the Meddler had appeared when seen through her eyes, and he found that perfect
melding of wolf and human a little suspicious.
For as long as Derian had known her, Firekeeper had never hesitated to express her wish that she had been born a
wolf, not a human. Now here was someone showing her the image of a perfect hybrid, possessed of a wolf's acute
senses without the need to relinquish the advantages of human hands or upright posture.
Add that to the list of reasons not to trust the Meddler, no matter how helpful he may be, Derian thought.
Harjeedian had asked, "Why do you think this way of going in will be better than our walking in together through
the sides of the copse?"
"Is like spiderweb," Firekeeper said. "This way we go in without waking spider. Is like when door is opened from
inside. There are no locks."
It wasn't the best of explanations, but several moon-spans of travel where the humans were in the minority had
made both Derian and Harjeedian quite talented at filling in the gaps.
"A door," Derian said, "is not locked or barred against those who are already inside, only those who come from
without. Is that what you mean?"
Firekeeper nodded. "So we do this? Three of us may be enough to fight, but if Plik is hurt, I would like
Harjeedian there, and Derian is good in many things."
Eshinarvash snorted, and Firekeeper nodded, then gave her answer in Pellish. "Yes. We hope you would take
charge of horses and gear. We have it all packed so we can run away swiftly with Plik." Lovable croaked, and
Firekeeper frowned. "What say you all," she said. "Lovable say she come and scout high for us. I think not, since is
building within." "A raven could spy through a high window," Derian reminded. "If she feels up to it, I think she
would be very useful."
Lovable strutted a few steps, then fluttered to perch alongside Bitter. The other raven was doing much better, even
capable of a sort of halting, swooping flight, but nothing would replace his one eye, and Harjeedian had expressed
concern that scarring might keep the bird from flying normally even when he was healed.
No wonder Firekeeper is so eager to have Harjeedian and me along. She knows perfectly well that we may need to
carry Plik away.
"It seems like a good plan," Derian said aloud. "When do we begin?"
"How long to pack up camp?" Firekeeper asked. "Not long, if everyone helps," Derian replied, looking
meaningfully at her. Firekeeper had a tendency to disappear when menial tasks were at hand.
In reply, Firekeeper began gathering the items dirtied by their recent meal, clearly intending to wash them. "Then
when we packed," she said, "we go."
***
PLIK STILL WASN'T CERTAIN how long he'd been captive, because he had no idea how long he'd slept either
the first or last time. He was a captive, too, for no matter how politely either Isende or Tiniel waited on him, he was
not permitted outside of his room.
It was a large room, especially for a small person like himself. Plik never heard anything either moving above or
through the walls, so he began to think he might be in a small cottage or hut. There were windows, but his view was
truncated by the lustrous growth surrounding them. This was not a growth that tempted him in the least to lean out and
take a better look. Closer inspection had confirmed his initial impression that the plants that surrounded his windows
were blood briars.
There were four windows, but the view outside of them was much the same. Beyond the window was what might
be termed a lawn, although less well tended than those he had seen in their journeys. Beyond that lawn was a thick,
tired-looking hedge interwoven with more blood briar. Of all the plants, only the blood briar looked lustrous.
Blood briars are certainly a most cooperative plant, Plik thought morosely. They seem to grow everywhere.
Because he did not wish to invite the blood briar in, Plik made no effort to open his windows. The room had a
chimney. It was too narrow for him to even consider using as an exit, but since there was no fire lit upon the hearth
and the winds were gusty, sometimes interesting scents were carried down to him.
He sniffed hard, hoping to catch the scent of wolf or jaguar. A few very exciting times he did so - and caught the
scents of other animals besides. But none of these scents seemed to belong to those Plik knew, so they unsettled him
rather than otherwise. He had not forgotten the tales Night's Terror had told about those who had gone into the copse
but had not returned. Did these scents belong to some of that vanished company? If so, why did he not hear their
howls and snarls?
Plik caught human scents, too, but other than those of Isende and Tiniel, these did not belong to any he knew.
Indeed, they were so elusive that they might well belong to either of the twins and have been diffused or corrupted
before they reached him. Perhaps if he had been a wolf, Plik might have read more, but although raccoons had a good
sense of smell, it was not the equivalent of a wolf's - nor was Plik entirely a raccoon.
When Isende returned, Plik decided to let himself speak bluntly. He could get away with doing this, because the
twins had already dismissed the possibility of plotting or calculation from their assessment of him. He knew this from
how they no longer shut the door quickly when coming from outside his room, how they would set the food tray down
before locking the door behind them, from other little casual lapses.
"Isende," Plik said, "who are the others here?"
Isende, who had brought some form of yarnwork with her, looked up from what she was doing, her lips still
moving in a deliberate count.
"Others?"
"I smell others. Animals and humans, both."
"I expect you smell the animals in the forest," Isende replied, speaking with care, her mind obviously groping with
whether or not she should address his question in full. "Are you sure the humans you smell aren't my brother and me?"
Plik just stared at her, trying to make his gaze appealing, that of a child who doesn't want to argue, but doesn't
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