Dragon and Herdsman

Alison had said that the Erassvas and Phookas spent their lives circling the edge of the forest as they foraged for food. That meant they had to cross the river twice per circuit, which implied they either could swim or else knew how to construct boats.

But in this case neither method would do them any good. As soon as they were on the water and out from under the protection of the forest canopy, they would be easy targets for airborne gunners. That was undoubtedly what Jack had been thinking about when he'd suggested that he and Draycos slip away and try to draw Frost's attention.

The problem with Jack's plan was that it wouldn't work. There was simply nowhere in the eastern grasslands where the two of them could hide from the mercenaries. Certainly not for the ten or eleven days it might take for Alison's friends to arrive. If Jack was going to evade capture, he would have to stay with Alison and the others in the forest.

Which meant that if they were going to have any chance of drawing the Malison Ring away, Draycos would have to do it alone.

And of course, without Jack along, he would die in the process.

He gazed across the river, snatches of old epic poems and songs running through his mind. As a warrior of the K'da he'd had to face the possibility of death many times. But it was somehow always different each time it happened. And it wasn't something he'd ever became used to.

Especially when it would mean abandoning such a young and inexperienced host. Would Jack be able to manage alone?

More important, would he be able to learn the location of the refugee fleet's rendezvous point alone and be able to save the rest of the K'da and Shontine?

There was no way to know. But Draycos had no doubt that the boy would try his very best to do so. Jack had fully adopted the K'da warrior ethic of service to others. Even with Draycos gone he would continue the mission as long as life remained in him.

The K'da lashed his tail firmly. Yes, Jack would do his best. But Draycos had no intention of laying such a heavy burden on the boy's shoulders, not unless and until there was no other choice. Retrieving the comm clip from its place on his crest, Draycos gave the air one final sniff and clicked it on. "Uncle Virge?" he called softly.

There was no answer. "Uncle Virge, this is Draycos," he said again. "If you can hear, please respond."

Again, nothing. Draycos left the comm clip on another few heartbeats, then switched it off again. As Jack had pointed out, the device would stand out like a beacon in the wilderness, and there was no point in giving the Malison Ring the exact location where he and the others would be coming out.

Unless . . .

Attaching the comm clip to his crest again, he leaned out over the water and looked in both directions. Downstream, he decided. Backing up into better cover, he headed east, looking for a good spot.

He found it a hundred yards away and a few yards in from the river: a stand of the by-now familiar rubbery trees and their attached vine meshes. He hadn't brought any rope along, but the vines should be strong enough for what he had in mind.

Quickly, he cut a group of them from their trees and tied them together. When he had about sixty feet he tied one end to the base of one of the trees and began climbing the tree next to it, the other end of the vine rope in his mouth.

He'd already done this once, back when he and Jack had taken out the Malison Ring's double ambush line, and he had the technique down to a science. Within a few minutes he had the tree bent over and tied in place. Cutting one final length of vine, he walked over to the treetop, which was now sticking out sideways a few feet above the ground. The other time he'd done this, he remembered, his approach had flushed a group of birds from those upper branches.

Sure enough, another small flock erupted from the tree as he neared it, the branches swaying madly as the birds flapped away from the potential threat.

Perfect.

Tying his last piece of vine to the treetop, letting it hang loosely down, Draycos retraced his steps back to where he'd first emerged from the forest to the riverbank. There, he retrieved the comm clip from his crest and switched it on. "Uncle Virge, this is Draycos," he called again. "Please respond."

Again, there was no reply. Leaving the comm clip on, he backed away from the river into the concealment of the forest and silently counted out thirty seconds. Then, tucking the comm clip beneath his left foreleg, he broke abruptly into a loping run eastward toward his rigged tree. To anyone monitoring the comm clip's movements—and he had no doubt Frost's men were doing just that—it should look like he had just fastened the device to an animal and sent it scurrying away.

He and Jack had already used this trick once, of course. Still, it was likely Frost would simply assume his opponents were running out of fresh ideas.