Dragon and Herdsman

"Odd," Alison said. "Did he attack them or something?"

"No, he was just wandering away," Jack said. "Not that odd, really. He'd probably picked up the herd's trail and was trying to get back to them."

"I was talking about the mercs' reaction," Alison said. "They shouldn't be spooking nearly this soon. That's a bad sign."

"What do you mean, spooking?"

"Shooting at something that's not a threat when they're supposed to be sneaking up on someone," she explained. "I wonder if they know something about Phookas that we don't."

"I don't know," Jack lied. Of course the soldiers would have orders to shoot at anything even vaguely K'da-shaped on sight. But Alison had no way of knowing that. "Maybe they've run into whatever it is that clawed the bark off that tree we saw," he suggested. "That would sure spook me."

"Maybe," she said. "Might explain why they were burning so much ammo shooting up that tree, too. But if there was something up there, I never saw it. I don't suppose you thought to grab one of their guns or anything."

"Actually, that would have been a bad idea," Jack told her. "They've got trackers in the guns. I don't know where."

"Probably the shoulder stock," Alison said. "That's where they usually put things like that. Keeps them clear of the moving parts that way. Here we are."

The stream was, to Jack's mind, more like a small river than the little babbling brook he'd expected. It was at least five yards across, moving swiftly but quietly. "Where are they?" he asked, peering across at the other side.

"If they're where I told Hren to stay, they're fifty yards upriver and twenty yards north on the far side," Alison said. "Afraid you're going to get your feet wet. Hey, what do you know? There she is."

Jack followed her pointing finger to see Taneem emerge from behind a row of reeds at the water's edge. "Oh, good," he said, a wave of relief rolling through him. He already had the red Phooka's death on his conscience. He didn't particularly want Taneem's there, too. "Right where I told her to go, too. Good little Phooka."

"You told her to come here?"

"Well, I told her to find the rest of the herd," Jack corrected. "This is close enough for jazz."

"No, I'm still working on the told her part," Alison said. "Since when do you talk to Phookas? Or maybe I should say, since when do they listen?"

"You should try it sometime," Jack said blandly, taking a step toward Taneem and holding out his hand. With only a slight hesitation, and clearly to Alison's amazement, the gray Phooka walked right up to him.

And to Jack's own surprise she laid her muzzle across his palm.

"Careful," Alison muttered. "Lots of sharp teeth in there."

"It's all right," Jack said, gazing down into Taneem's silver eyes. So she remembered him holding her muzzle this way earlier. Interesting. "So where are we going, again?" he asked, letting go of Taneem's muzzle and taking a step backward.

"Upriver," Alison said. She was still staring at the two of them, an unreadable expression on her face. "If you and your new pet would follow me?"

Jack gestured. "Lead the way."

They stepped into the water and turned upstream. As the icy water flowed around his shins, Jack winced, wondering how deep it was going to get.

Wondering, too, why Draycos was suddenly so tense.

They found the rest of the group exactly where Alison had said they would be. The Erassvas were huddled together beneath a tall outcropping of rock, looking altogether miserable. The Phookas were scattered around them, lying quietly in ones and twos around their hosts' feet.

"Cheerful-looking bunch, aren't they?" Jack murmured as he and Alison approached.

"Hren's not very happy with me," she said. "I think he's finally grasped the fact that the people back there want to hurt us."

Jack grimaced. If he only knew how badly. "He can't give up on us now," Jack warned. "Frost's mood hasn't had anywhere to go lately but down. Who knows what he'd do if they tried to go back?"

"I'd just as soon not find out," Alison agreed. "Well, maybe passing out some ration bars will help."

"You go ahead," Jack said. "I want to take a stroll around the perimeter."

"Your tangler have any ammo left?"

"I've got three shots," Jack said. "But I don't think I'll have to use any more of them tonight."

Alison grunted. "I hope you're right. Watch yourself."

She headed toward the huddled Erassvas, while Jack angled off toward the eastern edge of their encampment. "You should have taken some of the mercenaries' tangler rounds," Draycos murmured from his shoulder.

"Couldn't," Jack murmured back. "They're using military-caliber ammo. Too big for my civilian version."

"Then you should have taken one of their weapons," Draycos countered, an edge to his voice.

"Their weapons include handy little trackers, remember?" Jack said, frowning down into his shirt. This wasn't the calm, patient K'da poet-warrior he was used to. "In fact, they probably hoped we would help ourselves to one."

"Alison has told you where the tracker is."