Dragon and Herdsman

"Point," she said. "So if the Essenay doesn't come for us, we'll need to think about a place to hole up for a couple of weeks."

"You speak of the rocky area at the western end of the forest?" Draycos asked.

"Unless you saw something better as we were coming in, I'd say that's our best bet," Alison said. "The problem is that we have a lot of bodies to hide. And a lot of associated mouths to feed."

She looked over at the Erassvas huddled together around their trees. "Unless you're ready to cut them loose."

"No," Jack said firmly.

"It would be easier for us," Alison persisted. "And in all honesty, it might be better for them."

"What, getting abandoned in the woods with a lot of predators they've probably never even seen before?" Jack growled. "How does that qualify as good for them?"

"Because it would get them out of the sights of the predators with guns," Alison said bluntly. "Once we aren't with them anymore, what reason would Frost's men have to bother them?"

"Because they're K'da," Jack said.

Alison raised her eyebrows. "Are they?"

"Of course they are," Jack said. But even as he said it he could feel the sand sliding out from under his argument. After all, Draycos himself had called them animals. Did the physical form matter when the mind wasn't there?

He set his jaw. No. Whether they were as alive and intelligent as Draycos or not, the Phookas still deserved to be treated with dignity. "They are," he repeated firmly. "Besides, we've also dragged the Erassvas out here. We just going to abandon them, too?"

"Well, there's definitely no reason the Malison Ring would care about them," Alison pointed out, looking at Draycos. "You're the local expert, Draycos. Are these K'da, or aren't they?"

Draycos turned to look at the Phookas as they dug for grubs. "They have the form," he said, his tail lashing again. "But for the rest . . . I do not know what could have happened to make them this way."

"Something in the food, probably," Jack said. "It's the same biomass the Erassvas eat from, after all, and they're nearly as oblivious as the Phookas are."

"Though that predator—what did you call it again?" Alison asked.

"A Kodiak," Jack said. "I think it's a kind of bear."

"I notice that Kodiak didn't seem especially lethargic," she said, her voice suddenly thoughtful. "And he's eating from the same biomass. Draycos, you called your relationship with Jack a symbiosis. Does that mean you take nutrients from him?"

"No," Draycos said, his eyes still on the Phookas. "There is no chemical transfer. I take merely a place to rest, and give only companionship and protection in return."

"And advice," Jack added, trying to lighten the tone a little. He couldn't afford to let Draycos slip back into one of these black moods of his. "He gives a lot of advice, too."

"And I'll bet it's sorely needed," Alison said dryly. "No, I was just wondering if there might be more to it than just the Phookas' food."

"Like what?" Jack asked.

"I'm just guessing here," Alison said slowly. "But remember, I saw you playing soldier in the Whinyard's Edge a couple of months ago. You're a lot more confident and capable now than you were then. A lot more."

Jack shrugged. "Maybe I'm just a late bloomer."

"Maybe," Alison said. "But maybe you and Draycos are doing some trading in something besides nutrients. Something like attitudes and skills, maybe."

Jack opened his mouth . . . closed it again. Some of the decisions he'd made back at the slave camp had been suspiciously like those of a certain K'da poet-warrior of his acquaintance. "Draycos?" he invited.

"I do not know," the dragon said. His agitated tail swishing had settled down to the slow circular tip movements that showed he was thinking hard. "No one has ever suggested that such a transfer takes place between K'da and host."

"Maybe the Shontine are already so much like you that no one's ever noticed," Alison suggested. "I'm thinking it might be worth a little experiment."

"What kind of experiment?" Draycos asked, his voice suddenly suspicious.

"A very simple one," Alison said. "I take one of the Phookas."

"No," Jack said, the word coming out reflexively.

"Why not?" Alison asked. "You've got a K'da. Why shouldn't I have one, too?"

"What do you think this is, some kind of style statement?" Jack growled. "These are living, thinking beings."

"Fine—call it an adoption if you want," Alison said patiently. "But it's the simplest way to see if it's the environment that's doing this to them, either the food or their current hosts."

It made sense. Jack had to admit. That was the most irritating part. But still . . . "I don't know," he said hesitantly. "Draycos?"

"I also do not know," the dragon said, his tail back to its earlier restless lashing. "It seems wrong to experiment this way with living beings."

"What are you afraid of?" Alison asked, an edge of challenge in her voice. "That you'll find out that your particular group of K'da is the exception? That this—" she gestured toward the Phookas—"is how K'da usually are?"