Farseed, page 17
“You killed her,” Carin’s voice said faintly from somewhere above her.
“She was trying to kill me,” Belen replied, but he sounded uncertain.
“You killed her,” Carin repeated.
“I didn’t hear a scream, not even a whimper. What did she do, hold her breath all the way down?”
“She was alive,” Carin said. “She stayed alive all this time by herself, and now—”
“Shut up, Carin.” Nuy heard a sound that might have been a slap. “She was bringing a stranger to us the last time we saw her. Maybe she went north and found more of them, or maybe they found her, and it was the northerners who kept her alive. First there were the ones Ho killed and now there’s another group of them down below. Maybe they helped her out. Maybe she even led them back here.”
“What are we going to do?”
“Somebody might come looking for her. We’d better start downriver now, before morning comes.”
Nuy listened as the two descended the cliffside, afraid that a foot or hand might discover her on the ledge. She thought that she could hear them panting for breath and held her own, willing herself to be as still as if she were lifeless and knowing that the slightest sound would give her away. She lay there until they were far below her, but did not move. The fall might have injured her; she would not know how badly she was hurt until she tried to scale the cliff. She would have to lie here and will herself to heal.
Had Carin been trying to help her? She had not sensed the same feelings of anger toward her from Carin as she had picked up from Belen. Her breathing was more painful now, even with taking only short, sharp gulps of air. The clouds were clearing, and the second moon would overtake the first before long. She lay there, waiting for dawn.
12
Leila’s fears stabbed into her again. The darkness of the night, the sound of a rising wind that might keep her from hearing the approach of danger—everything in her world seemed a threat to her now. She thought of all the times she had lain in her bed at night, safe inside her dome, and wondered that she had ever wanted to leave her settlement.
She had grown careless. So far, she had been lucky, moving mostly at night and resting for only brief moments during the day, often sleeping on the back of her horse with her hand on her weapon. She relieved herself as infrequently as possible and only in spots behind a boulder or near a slope, where she felt more concealed. She started at the slightest sound and had fired her weapon twice, once when she heard what sounded like footfalls along the riverbank and again when she saw a form loom up from the grass that had looked human for a moment. The human form had turned out to be an odd formation of rocks suddenly revealed when a gust of wind had disturbed the grass; the sound of feet, she had decided, was only the blood pounding in her ears.
Someone might be tracking her. She wondered if the others could do that, follow her at a distance, invisible to her, waiting for a chance to strike.
Her horse was moving at a walk, no longer panting. She had stopped earlier to let the mare drink from the river and to rub down the horse’s glistening coat with a spare tunic. She had kept her at a walk ever since, even after the night sky had cleared enough for the moons to light her way. As fearful as she was of what she might find at the base to the south, afraid that she might arrive only to find that she had come too late to warn her companions, she would be far less able to help them if she ran her horse into the ground.
She struggled to stay alert. Her mother and Gervais should be back at that encampment by now. She hung on to that thought. There had been a moment of terror for her not long ago, a thought so painful that she had started from a sleep that she had not realized she had fallen into, nearly sliding from the back of her horse. Zoheret and Gervais had gone to the place near the sea where they had expected to find the others. Maybe they had encountered some of those people there, ones who had stayed behind and had not been involved in the murder of Hannah and Haidar. Or perhaps Gervais and her mother had found no one there and had left, only to be attacked on their way north. Zoheret and Gervais might be dead by now. That possibility had stabbed at her in one sharp moment of panic before she had willed herself to suppress the thought.
They were alive. They had to be alive. She recalled all the times she and Trevor had plotted together, of how they had lured Sofia and Yukio and Edan into their plans for this expedition. Now they had lost two people, and might lose even more. There were so few of them as it was, so few people trying to live on this world. It would be a long time before that fact became unimportant enough to banish Yusef’s fears.
The moons were sinking toward the western horizon when she glimpsed a spark of light to the south. She was suddenly furious with her friends and with Kagami for allowing such a visible sign of their presence. Her anger burned out abruptly, chilling her with fear when she realized that the murderers might already have reached that camp.
She reached for her weapon and pulled it from her belt. It would be dark enough for a little while longer to hide her as she approached. She would get near enough to find out who was there, and if enemies were camped around the fire, she would leave the horse and find a way to sneak up on them and a safe place from where she could fire at them. She would worry about what to do with her enemies after they were disabled and helpless.
Her enemies. That was how she thought of the others now.
She rode on. Against the purple of the sky, she soon made out the jutting finger of the cliff that overlooked the campsite. A voice called out, a voice she knew, carried to her along the river.
“Stop there,” Yukio’s voice commanded.
She could not see him, but he could not be more than twenty paces away. Her friends had been on guard after all. A wave of relief rushed through her.
“Stop there,” Yukio repeated, “or I’ll shoot.”
Had they been attacked after all? Were they now afraid of being attacked again? Leila was suddenly shocked at how careless she had been; someone other than Yukio might have been hiding in the grass.
“Yukio,” she called out, “it’s Leila.” She pulled at the reins and heard the grass whisper as he ran toward her. “You’re all right.”
“For now, anyway,” he said as he came up to her.
“What are you doing out here?” she asked.
“It was my turn to keep watch. Thought I heard something earlier tonight, a voice. Woke up Edan so he could guard the camp while I took a look around. Climbed part of the way up the cliff to get a better view, and when the clouds started to clear, I saw what looked like a horse and rider to the north. Thought it was you, but I had to make sure before you got any closer.”
She would have to tell him what had happened. If she told him now, she would have to repeat it all later for the others. “Yukio—” she began.
“I’ve got something to tell you,” he interrupted. “Zoheret and Gervais haven’t returned yet. They should have been back by now.”
“No,” she whispered.
“You know what your mother told us. We’ll have to decide what to do.”
She swung her leg over the horse and jumped to the ground. “Take this,” she said, handing the reins to him.
They walked together in silence, with Yukio leading the horse, knowing that they would have to remain on guard until they were with the others. Talking would only distract them, and she still could not escape the feeling that the sound of their voices might be overheard by their enemies. She would have to wait until she was among them all to tell her story.
Somehow Leila managed to finish her account of what had happened without trembling, without having to stop too often to compose herself, without having her voice break or her emotions overcome her entirely. The sun was up by then, a reddish-orange light in a pale green sky that promised a cloudless day.
Yukio was still pacing, as he had been while Leila was speaking, looking to the north and then south. Their fire had died a while ago. Kagami stared into the embers. Sofia had drawn up her legs and had wrapped her arms around them, resting her chin on her knees; her dark eyes were as blank as Kagami’s. Trevor’s head was bowed, so she could not see his face, but could imagine what he was thinking. Hannah, who had shared his dome, had been like a sister to him. Any hope he had held out for finding his mother was now dead.
Edan was the first to speak. “Zoheret told us to break camp if she and Gervais weren’t back by now,” he said.
Trevor shook his head. “But she didn’t expect anything like this to happen,” he said. “I don’t see how we can leave, not now.”
“We lost an encampment,” Edan said, “so it’ll take us longer to reach our next base now.”
Trevor leaned forward. “And along the way, we might get attacked by the same ones who killed Hannah and Haidar, who probably killed my mother as well.”
“Then we’d better be ready to fight,” Edan replied, “even if it means doing the same thing to them that—”
“Stop it,” Kagami said. Sofia was watching the woman, as if waiting for Kagami to tell them what to do. “I’d hoped that none of you would ever have to go through something like this.”
Trevor was thinking of his mother, Edan was talking vengeance, Sofia wanted guidance, and Kagami sounded bewildered and lost. “They attacked upriver, days away from the sea,” Leila said, still struggling to keep her grief and fear from overwhelming her. “That could mean they’re not living near the sea now, which means my mother and Gervais might not have run into them at all. They might have had an accident, we don’t know what kind of trouble they might have had. Those people aren’t the only thing we have to worry about.”
“But you know what she told us.” Edan got to his feet. “We were to leave if they weren’t back here by now. Look, if one of them were injured, the other would have ridden back by now to get help. If both of them were still able to ride, they would have come back. You know why your mother gave us that order. She didn’t want us to risk losing more people by coming after her.”
“So you think she’s dead.”
“I’m saying that she and Gervais must have run into something they couldn’t handle.”
Leila stood up. “Then maybe they need our help.”
Edan caught her by the arms. “You know what she told us.”
“I know.”
“You both have a point,” Trevor interrupted. “We know what Zoheret told us to do, but things have changed since then. She didn’t know one of our bases would be attacked, that two people would…” He paused. “Maybe we’d all better decide on what to do together.”
All of them looked as exhausted as Leila felt. She was fairly sure that she could count on Trevor to support her, but the others would believe that they were now more concerned about their mothers than anything else and that this was clouding their judgment.
She took a breath, then said, “I have to keep looking for Zoheret and Gervais until I find them or at least find out what happened to them. Maybe I can learn something about what might have happened to Trevor’s mother and the others, too. I hope all of you will stay with me, but I can’t stop you from leaving. You also can’t stop me from staying here by myself.” She had said the words. Now she would have to abide by them. Her fears rose up once more, threatening to choke her, and she wanted to call back her words.
“You won’t be alone, Leila,” Trevor said. “I’ll stay with you.”
“That’s crazy,” Edan objected. “Breaking up the group will only put us all in even more danger. We should stick together now.”
“Stop there,” Yukio said suddenly in a sharp, loud tone. He was staring up at the cliffside, his right arm raised high with his weapon in his hand. “Don’t move.”
Leila looked up to where he was pointing. A small brown-skinned creature perched on a rocky ledge high above them. Its arms were up, palms out. How long had it been watching them? Again she found herself shocked by their carelessness.
“Hai,” the creature called out in a high, piercing voice, and Leila saw it for what it was: a child, one of the outsiders, an enemy.
“Shoot it,” Edan said softly.
“If I shoot,” Yukio said, “she might fall off the ledge. That’d kill her for sure.” His sharper eyes had apparently seen that the child was a female.
“What difference does it make?” Edan said. “She has to be one of them.”
“Hai,” the child shouted again before crumpling onto the ledge.
Kagami rose to her feet. “She’s hurt.”
“She may need our help,” Leila said. The child was alone, and it did not look as though she was armed. Maybe she had run away from her people. She wondered if she dared to trust her more compassionate feelings.
Trevor said, “I’ll climb up and get her. Sofia, get me a rope.” Sofia got up and ducked inside the tent, where their packs were kept. “Yukio, keep aiming at her.”
“Shoot her now,” Edan said. He glanced at Yukio, then put a hand on his own weapon. “If we shoot her now, we can be sure she’s out. We can carry her down after that with no trouble.”
“No,” Kagami said. “If she’s seriously injured, the shock of being hit might kill her.”
“I’m going up,” Trevor said. “Edan, follow me and keep me covered. Shoot her if she gives us any trouble.”
Sofia came up and handed Trevor the rope. He looped it over one shoulder and moved quickly toward the cliffside. Edan shook his head, but followed him.
Leila craned her neck, watching them as they climbed, wedging their feet into crevices in the rock and pulling themselves up by the arms. As Trevor neared the ledge where the child lay, Edan continued to climb higher, then braced his feet against an outcropping just above them as he removed his weapon from his belt and aimed it at the stranger.
Trevor hauled himself onto the ledge and crawled toward the child. “She’s breathing,” he called out, “but she isn’t moving.”
“She’s got a knife,” Edan shouted down to him. Trevor took something from the stranger, tucked it under his belt, then slipped the coil of rope from his shoulder. In a few more moments, the rope secured, he descended the cliff while hanging onto the rope, with the small body flung over one shoulder; a long black braid hung down from the child’s head. She looked so small, Leila thought, and so frail.
Yukio remained cautious, keeping his weapon aimed at the stranger until Trevor had reached the ground. Leila stepped forward and reached for the child as Edan made his way down the cliffside.
The child lay inside the tent, sleeping. She had roused herself for an instant to mutter a few words, “my people,” “two of you,” “help me,” and then had closed her eyes once more. She had awakened again to drink some water after Kagami brought it to her, then had gone back to sleep.
Kagami was still inside the tent with the child, having sent everyone else outside. The healer had frowned after scanning the girl, but had assured Leila that the child seemed uninjured, with no broken bones or any sign of serious injury despite the bruises and other marks on her small body. The muscles of the thin body were hard, and the shoulders broad for a child of that size, while the soles of her wide bare feet with their splayed toes were so thick with callouses that Leila suspected she had never worn shoes. Her only clothing was a loincloth; Kagami had removed the long leather cord that held a leather skin filled with a little water. Except for the slight swelling of tiny breasts, the girl’s chest was flat, and the brown skin tight across the visible ridges of her ribs. To Leila, her face was the child’s most surprising feature. Her thick black lashes, curved mouth, and gentle expression could almost be called beautiful.
Kagami came outside only long enough to fetch a screen. Leila was about to ask her what she was doing when Kagami disappeared into the tent again.
By early afternoon, Yukio and Sofia had scaled the cliff in order to get a better look at what was below. Yukio shouted down that they had found no one else up there and that they would be able to see anybody approaching at a distance as long as it was light. He and Sofia would remain on watch, and would stay up there that night to watch over the camp. Leila realized then that she should have thought of putting somebody on watch at the top of the cliff as soon as Zoheret and Gervais had left the camp. She was struck once again by their negligence, at how vulnerable they had left themselves.
She was sitting with Trevor and Edan near the tent, sharing a small portion of dried fruit and worrying about how much longer their food would last, when Kagami lifted the flap and crept outside, clutching her scanner and screen to her chest. The healer sat down, her back to the tent, and gazed at each one of them in turn with a bewildered expression on her face.
“What’s wrong?” Leila asked.
“I’m not sure how to explain this to you,” Kagami said. “That girl has to be the child of people in Ho’s group, I heard her whisper his name and some of the others’, but otherwise I’d almost think—” She was silent for a few moments.”—that she’s not quite human.”
Leila stiffened in surprise. “Not human?” Trevor said. “But how—”
“Let me put it as simply as possible,” Kagami said. “She carries a few unfamiliar genes that I’ve never seen before in any of our records. The DNA base sequence of other genes appears to have been altered. Because of that, I’m not even sure how to interpret some of my other readings. She seems malnourished but otherwise in reasonably good health, but I can’t be certain—”
“She has to be one of the others,” Edan said. “You said that Ship made sure that there were no signs of intelligent life here before sending you down.”
“Oh, she’s one of Ho’s group, I’m certain of that. If she’s a mutation of some kind, perhaps exposure to something in her environment that isn’t present in our settlement affected her or her parents. In any case, however human she looks, it seems that she carries a few alien genes as well. It’s almost as if—”
