Shadows on the Mountain, page 14
As he edged warily into the glade, Bramble caught his father’s eye. Burbark perked up and clapped his huge hands together.
“You two. Leave us!” he grunted.
Without so much as a huff of objection, Spiderwort and Groundnut dropped forward onto their fists and lurched off into the trees. Bewildered, Bramble stared after them.
“Well, my son! My Brightback!” Burbark slapped his hands together again. “What have you been up to? Seen anything . . . of interest?”
Bramble hesitated. There was something about the gleam in his father’s eyes that set the hairs prickling on the back of his neck. Suddenly, he was sure of something.
The snake ceremony. He knows I saw it. Groundnut must have told him.
He swallowed hard. Too cheerfully, he said, “Nothing much today, Father.”
Burbark’s eyes narrowed. “Mmph.”
Bramble could not go on meeting his father’s gaze; he averted his eyes, staring at the ground. Around Burbark’s feet were scattered frail things that looked like long, skeletal leaves, pale brown and wizened. Bramble couldn’t help frowning in puzzlement.
Abruptly the big Silverback’s eyes widened. “Oh, these!”
He snatched up one of the fragile leaves; Bramble saw that it was curled, nearly translucent, and patterned with a delicate lattice.
He sucked in a breath. Of course they weren’t leaves; they were the discarded skins of snakes. He’d never seen so many in one place.
Burbark closed his eyes. He carefully stroked his own cheek with the desiccated snakeskin, then rubbed harder. He wore a blissful expression as he blinked his eyes open and offered the crumpled snakeskin to Bramble.
“A gift for my heir.” He smiled, his eyes distant.
Bramble knew he couldn’t reject it. Stifling a shudder, he reached for the dangling thing. His father hooked it ceremonially over his fingers; Bramble forced them not to tremble.
He peered down at the hideous skin. It must be his imagination, but its feathery touch was as cold as a mountain stream: one that had never seen the sunlight.
“Thank you, Father,” he said hoarsely.
Burbark nodded and sat back, smiling in satisfaction. “You may go now.”
Bramble backed away. At the edge of the glade he turned his back on his father and padded deep into the trees. Finding a thick tree stump, he clambered onto it; the canopy was thin at this spot, and it was a good place to bask in the sun.
And I need to feel the warmth. Bramble stared at the snakeskin; he could swear it had tangled itself more tightly around his fingers. Despite the sunlight, a clammy coldness spread through his body from its touch.
Bramble flung it aside. It was swallowed up by the long grass, but he imagined it hissed out a breath, a slithering rasp.
Father won’t know, he told himself. And I don’t want that thing anywhere near me.
Or, he thought, anything like it. Ever again.
Chapter Seventeen
Range was a wonderful storyteller: Chase had to admit it to herself. Her ears couldn’t help but flick toward him as he entertained Seek, who sat enthralled between his paws. The little one’s eyes were wide and bright, and he looked not the slightest bit intimidated by the huge adult leopard looming over him. Range’s deep rumbling growl sounded soothing to Chase’s ears, but Seek didn’t look remotely sleepy.
“So there I was,” growled Range, “my claws hooked into this huge wildebeest’s rump, but I couldn’t bring him down. And I certainly wasn’t going to let him go. Wait till I shake you off, cat, he said. I’ll show you sharp, when you’re on the end of my horns!”
Seek gasped. “I didn’t know grass-eaters would dare talk to us like that!”
“This one certainly did. And he was a big one, Seek, so I took him seriously. I went bouncing along, clinging to his rump, while he bucked and twisted and swung his head at me. And there we might still have been, both of us hopping and springing across the savannah, if he hadn’t tried to whack me hard against a tree. I saw it was coming, and that was the moment I picked to let go. Great Spirit, did I jump up and run fast!”
Seek shut one eye, wrinkling his muzzle. “You got beaten by a wildebeest?”
“I got beaten by a noble Bravelands creature who was bigger and more determined than I was.” Range gave a roar of laughter. “Every leopard should know when to swallow his pride, little one.”
Chase couldn’t help but be amused and choked back a laugh of her own. Range was charming and fun to be with, but she had to remember what Prowl had told her, about a strange leopard encroaching on other territories. Trust only yourself, Chase. . . .
“Where is your territory, Range?” she asked suddenly. “Why have you left it?”
He swung his head toward her, his blue eyes keen and appraising. “Left it? I haven’t. I simply don’t consider myself bound by it. I am Range Born of Sprint, and I go where I please.”
Chase flattened her ears. “And roam freely on others’ land?”
He hunched his shoulders. “It’s not as if I want to take it. My own territory is large and fine.”
Seek jumped up and spun in an excited circle. “Aren’t you worried another leopard will move in? While you’re gone?”
“Is that what you’re planning, cub?” Range batted Seek’s ears with a paw. “I’d better be careful.”
“No, I won’t! I wouldn’t!” Seek stopped spinning, to gaze earnestly up at Range. “I was thinking about Shadow.”
Range huffed another laugh. “Shadow doesn’t worry me, youngster. I think you’d be a bigger threat than he is!”
Seek giggled in delight as Range rolled him onto his back, but Chase stared thoughtfully at Range. He’s absolutely right, she thought. Range is far more imposing than Shadow. He’s got nothing to fear from him.
As if he felt her gaze, Range turned to her, his ears twitching forward. “You should come and live in my territory, Chase Born of Prowl. I could protect you better there. Stay with me, and you will never regret it.”
Chase sucked in a breath, silenced for a moment by the blatant request. He wants me for his mate. If not immediately, then once I move to be under his protection.
The thought was hugely tempting. He was right: few creatures would dare to threaten Chase if she lived as Range’s mate.
I would be safe, for a long time. But Seek?
She shook her head slowly. “I cannot leave Seek. Not yet, Range.”
The big leopard raised his brow. “I would do this cub no harm,” he murmured. He bent to lick the top of Seek’s head. “I agree it’s neither normal nor traditional, but I would be willing to treat Seek as my own family, until he’s grown and independent.”
“And I could help!” Seek butted in eagerly. “I could hunt too. I’d earn my keep, I promise!”
Chase could feel herself yearning, her muscles tightening as she leaned almost imperceptibly toward Range. Strength and protection, and our bellies would never be empty. . . .
But something within her resisted. Perhaps it was no more than her natural suspicion. “Let me think about it,” she heard herself say. “It’s a lot to consider.”
Range inclined his head in acceptance. “That’s reasonable, Chase, and wise. I had a great deal of respect for your mother Prowl, you know. And you take after her in many ways.”
The tension flowed out of Chase’s body, and she sagged a little in relief. She hadn’t realized just how anxious she had been about his response. But Range looked as relaxed and friendly as ever, jumping to his paws and beckoning Seek with a jerk of his head.
“Let’s hunt,” he suggested. “All of us.”
“Yay!” exclaimed Seek.
“I caught the scent of a dik-dik earlier,” said Chase, glad of the change of subject. “In the brush to the west.”
“Then let’s find it!” Range nuzzled her affectionately, and her whiskers tingled at his touch.
“I’ll show you,” she said quickly, turning and trotting toward the dense undergrowth.
The scent was only a little stale, and as the three leopards padded in its trail, it grew stronger. Chase halted, flaring her nostrils, and changed direction slightly; Range nudged Seek and followed her. They moved quietly and steadily through the brush, halting often to test the air, to peer keenly into the dense foliage.
Chase did not hold out much hope of finding the dik-dik now, despite the newer scents, but she was glad of the distraction of the hunt. And she couldn’t help enjoying Range’s company, though she had always hunted alone. The big leopard didn’t interfere, he didn’t offer unwanted advice, and he let her take the lead.
“You’re good at this,” he murmured as they walked abreast along a broad gully. “Tracking, I mean. I’d have lost that scent many times by now.”
His flattery warmed Chase, despite her reservations. “My mother taught me well.”
“It’s no more than I’d have expected from Prowl.” Halting for a moment, Range sniffed the air. “I think there are bongos nearby too. Shall I scout from that ridge?”
The fact that he asked her permission gave Chase a flush of pleasure. “Good idea,” she said. “Then we’ll have another option, if we can’t find the dik-dik.”
Range nodded and turned to spring up the side of the gully. Lithe and quick despite his size, he vanished instantly in the shadows.
Seek nudged Chase’s forepaw. “You like him,” he said mischievously. “Don’t you, Chase? Don’t you?”
She gave a low, irritated growl. “No, I don’t. He’s a good hunter, that’s all.”
“Yes, you do. You do like him!” Seek gave a giggling growl.
The cub was right, though Chase had no intention of admitting it. I do like Range. He’d make a fine and protective mate, and our cubs would be strong and healthy.
So what was holding her back? For a moment she imagined her mother at her shoulder, offering her wise counsel in that familiar low rumble.
Caution, Chase. Always caution. Trust no one but yourself. . . .
Chase shook her ears, almost angry. Didn’t she deserve an easier life? She hadn’t expected to be orphaned now, or to care for a cub before she’d even had a litter of her own. You’re gone now, Mother, and I have to live on in this world. You’re not here anymore to protect us.
Maybe caution was not as important as security. Yes, thought Chase; she should accept Range’s offer. Any female leopard would be grateful to have such a fine mate. And how many males would tolerate another’s cub? Range didn’t just put up with Seek—he actually liked him.
I will accept his offer. I will!
“Whoa!” Seek exclaimed, his ears pricking forward. He pounced on something just ahead of Chase.
She had been too preoccupied to notice the lizard, but Seek now had it pinned firmly beneath his paw. It was pale brown and skinny, and it wriggled in terror.
Seek batted at its tail with his free paw. “Look, Chase! I caught it!”
“Yes, you did,” she told him proudly. He was still teasing it, half lifting his paw from the trapped lizard, only to slam it back down. “You’re a hunter.”
“Not a proper hunter,” came an angry growl. Range was back, leaping down the gully slope. “Let it go!”
“But I—” Seek flinched beneath Range’s angry blue stare. “I caught it by myself and—”
“And you’re playing with it,” snarled Range. “If you’re hungry, kill what you catch. Let it go right now! You don’t deserve to eat it.”
Chase stared at Range, stunned, but he was still glaring at Seek.
“Let it go!”
“Why should he?” demanded Chase, moving in front of Seek and lashing her tail in anger. “It was his prey. He caught it fairly!” She bared her fangs.
“Yes,” growled Range, “and if that had been a bushbuck or a wildebeest, he would not have had the chance to toy with it. It would be gone, and he’d starve, and all because of a silly game.” He turned on Seek again. “It’s a lesson you must learn, cub!”
Looking chastened, Seek released the lizard. It skittered into the nearest tumble of rocks and vanished.
“I guess Range is right,” whispered Chase to Seek, as Range turned and stalked away. “But you did well to catch it. You really did.”
“I know.” There was an edge of resentment in the cub’s voice, and he glowered at Range’s retreating tail and haunches.
“You’ll catch another, and next time you’ll get to eat it, I promise.” Chase licked Seek’s ear, but he looked surly as the two of them padded after Range.
Much of the fun had gone out of their hunt, but the night had barely begun, and after all, Chase thought, they did not seek prey for fun. That must have been what Range was trying to teach Seek, but she couldn’t help feeling sorry for the cub. Now Seek trailed a little behind Chase as Range forged ahead.
The large male halted suddenly, the black tip of his tail twitching. Cautiously, Chase slunk abreast of him and followed his gaze down into the shallow ravine ahead. Starlight picked out huge, broad-shouldered shapes that plodded through the grass and rocks of the ravine floor, their fists thudding into the ground as they advanced up the mountain. Their movement was slow and steady, but every high-domed head was raised and alert as they scanned the gully around them for threats.
“Gorillas.” Chase’s hackles sprang up. “Why are they moving in the dark?”
Range shook his head in perplexity. “They should be in their nests,” he murmured.
Chase’s hide prickled all over. Already she mistrusted gorillas, and these could be the very ones that had desecrated her mother’s body. She glared down, narrowing her eyes, searching for recognizable features: hard black eyes, a scarred nose, a bare patch of hide . . .
She could see little at this distance, and her tail-tip flicked in agitation. It wasn’t natural for gorillas to travel at night, so they must be up to something.
Cautiously, Range placed his paws on the slope and slunk a little way down. Chase turned to Seek with a whispered “Wait here,” then followed Range, her body low to the ground.
The night was very still, but for the chirruping of crickets and the rasp of cicadas; Chase could soon make out the low, rumbling conversation of the gorilla troop. She halted, her ears twitching, and ahead of her Range glanced back and stopped too. Both leopards lowered themselves even flatter against the grass. They were close to the troop now, and they’d have to be careful.
The leading gorilla stopped, snuffling the air. He scowled, scratched his chest, then moved on.
“It’s nothing,” he muttered to the nearest female. “Cats hunting. They won’t bother us.”
“So long as it isn’t that other troop.” The female paused, touching the baby that was nestled against her stomach. “I don’t know what made them so hostile, but I don’t want to run into them again.”
“It was bizarre behavior,” grunted the male. He halted and sat on his haunches, looking back the way he’d come. That was when Chase noticed some of his troop were lagging behind. Two young males were limping badly and had to be assisted by other gorillas.
These were not the gorillas that had desecrated Prowl’s body, Chase realized. But they had clearly been involved in a bitter fight not long ago. It was quite possible these gorillas had had the misfortune to come across that other, aggressive troop. . . .
The Silverback leader waited for the laggards to catch up a little, then moved on again. “We’ll be safe higher up the mountain,” he rumbled. “Out of harm’s way, till that lot come to their senses. We’ll fight them again if we have to, but I’m not going to go looking for trouble.”
The gorillas’ voices faded as they progressed on up the shallow valley. Chase and Range exchanged a look.
“What do you suppose that was about?” murmured Chase.
“Sounds as if they’ve had a squabble with another troop,” said Range with a flick of his head.
Chase nodded. “The mountains are changing, I think. But the fewer gorillas in our part of the forest, the better I like it.” After what happened to her mother, she’d be happy never to see another gorilla in her life.
“I could not agree more,” agreed Range with a growl. “Let’s go back and get Seek, and keep moving. And we’ll steer clear of any more gorillas, I promise.”
The sound of water began as a distant, rushing whisper, but by the time Range led them across a series of ragged gullies, the noise had grown to a thunder. Chase and Seek halted beside Range, staring up at the waterfall that crashed down into a river below. The cliffs looked precipitous, and the torrent raged far too wildly to cross.
“Where do we go from here?” Chase had to raise her voice to be heard, and she laid her ears back in discomfort. The pool at the foot of the waterfall was a turmoil of white water and fountains of spray, glowing in the light of the stars; from here, the river flowed on steeply down the hillside through savage-looking rocks and swirling eddies of foam.
“I’ll show you,” declared Range loudly. “This is one of my dens, and it’s a good place to hide, Chase. If you ever need to.”
She started. “It is?”
“Watch.” Range twisted and leaped down from the boulder where he stood.
Chase gave a gasp. From her vantage point, it seemed he had sprung directly into the raging torrent. But when she leaned forward, trembling, and peered down, she saw Range gazing back up at her, his whiskers twitching with amusement. He stood safely on a wide slab of glistening black rock, and his fur sparkled with droplets of spray.
“Jump,” he called. “You can’t miss.”
Her heart rose in her throat. “But—”
“Jump,” he called again. “And follow me!” With that, he turned and bounded straight toward the waterfall.
Seek gave a squeal of shock and fear. Chase’s fur stood up straight all over her body. She expected to see Range’s body tumble in the crash of water and plunge into the pool below. Instead, he vanished completely; the last she saw of him was a cocky flick of his black-tipped tail.
Chase swallowed hard. Surely Range would not have jumped if there had been any true danger? Yet the prospect of making the leap herself was terrifying.
