She caught a glimpse of movement straight ahead. Taking a deep breath, she stood up.
A pair of Compfrins came around the trees, bundles of sticks in their hands. They caught sight of Alison and stopped short. "Hello," Alison said. "I seem to be lost."
The aliens exchanged looks. Then, one of them gave a soft whistle.
Abruptly the other footsteps Alison had heard fell silent. Then, they started up again, more quickly this time, and growing nearer. A Parprin appeared through the trees to Alison's right, followed by a pair of Jantris to her left, then an Eytra beside the two Compfrins. "I seem to be lost," Alison tried again.
One of the Compfrins stepped forward, coming to within three feet of Alison before he stopped. He paused there, his eyes laboriously tracing every line of her face. Then, he seemed to straighten up. "You are she," he declared.
"I am she what?" Alison asked carefully.
"You are the human Alison Kayna," he said. "The friend of Jack Morgan, who came to us as Jack McCoy." Before Alison could decide whether to confirm or deny it, the Compfrin took her arm. "Come," he said softly, steering her toward her left. "We have a hiding place prepared for you."
Alison eyed him suspiciously. Still, if it was a trap it was too late to run now. "Thank you," she said.
The hut they led her to was small, run-down, and very much in the middle of nowhere. Definitely one of Jack's isolation huts, Alison decided. "Wait here," the Compfrin said as he opened the door for her.
"For how long?" Alison asked, stepping in and looking around. The hut included a small cot, enough extra space to turn around in, and not much more. Even her slave quarters back at the main house had been better than this.
"The Penitent will wish to see you," the Compfrin said. "He will come to you when he can."
"The Penitent?" Alison echoed, frowning.
"Our leader," the Compfrin said. "Wait, and do not fear. Someone will bring food and water for you soon."
"Just make sure he's not caught," Alison warned. "I'd rather go without than have him lead the Brummgas here."
"Do not fear," the Compfrin said again. He closed the door, and the footsteps again faded away.
"There's no place like home, eh?" Alison commented, sitting down on the bed. "What did you think of them?"
"I don't know," Taneem said. She peered cautiously out of Alison's shirt, then rather gingerly slid out into the other half of the cot. "They seem remarkably organized for people Draycos said would not even take freedom when it was offered."
"I was thinking the same thing," Alison said. "Which means this could be a trap."
"Should we not then escape?" Taneem asked.
"In theory, we can always do that," Alison reminded her. "After all, they still don't know about you." Carefully, she lay down on her side on the cot. The mattress was hard and stiff, but after spending the night sliding across rough ceramic, it felt as gloriously luxurious as her bed back home. "Besides, in theory, we also don't have anywhere better to go just now," she added.
"So we rest?"
"We rest," Alison confirmed, closing her eyes. "Maybe we eat and drink, too, if their courier makes it through."
She propped one eye open. "Mostly, you stay out of sight," she said.
"Until I'm needed?"
Alison closed both eyes again. "Don't worry," she said. "I'll let you know when that is."
They spent the rest of the afternoon sleeping. At least Alison did—she wasn't sure what exactly Taneem did with the idle time. As long as the K'da was quiet, she didn't really care.
The promised food and water arrived about midafternoon, delivered by the Parprin who'd been in the group that had escorted Alison to the hut. The food wasn't very good, but it was filling and Alison was ravenous. She and Taneem split the meal, and Alison went back to sleep.
It was dark outside by the time she awoke. "Any news?" she asked, stretching her arms carefully. Her back felt a hundred percent better, but the muscles and skin were still tender.
"No one has come close," Taneem reported. She was curled up on the floor beside a small crack in the wall, periodically flicking her tongue out to taste the air.
"I wonder if this Penitent got caught," Alison said, getting stiffly off the bed and taking a sip of the water they'd saved. "Or whether he just got cold feet."
"Jack used that expression once," Taneem said thoughtfully. "I'm still not sure—" She broke off, her tongue flicking twice through the crack. "They are coming," she hissed. "Many of them. No Brummgas."
"Great—a committee," Alison growled, glancing around. Aside from the single door, there was no way out of the hut.
At least, not any way the slaves could possibly anticipate. "Time to play backstop," she said, holding out her hand. "Hop on."
A second later Taneem was back on her skin. Five seconds after that, Alison had worked her fingers through another crack in the rear of the hut and Taneem had leaped off into the darkness. Taking a few deep breaths to calm herself, Alison turned to the door and waited.
A minute later she heard soft footsteps approaching. There was a quiet knock, and she pushed the door open.
It was the Compfrin who'd first identified her as Jack Morgan's friend. Arrayed behind him was the committee Taneem had smelled: two Parprins, three Jantris, three more Eytras, and four other Compfrins. All of them were armed, either with kitchen implements or else with tree-branch clubs.
One of the Eytras was standing a little in front of the rest. It was, Alison knew, the position a leader would normally take. "Good evening," she said, nodding to all of them and then focusing her attention on the Eytra. "Do I have the honor of addressing the Penitent?"
A ripple of surprise ran through the group. The Eytra himself gave no visible reaction. "I am," he said. "Stronlo is my name. Yours is Alison Kayna?"
"Yes," Alison confirmed. "Why the name Penitent?"
A flicker of pain crossed Stronlo's face. "I was there when Jack Morgan offered us freedom. I failed to grasp that offer, and have spent two months repenting my foolishness."
He straightened up. "But now I have been given a second chance," he said firmly. "Now that you have come to free us."
Alison felt her throat go dry. Shoofteelee, back at the house, had had the same attitude. And the same assumptions. "That's not exactly the case," she said carefully. "I came on a mission of my own." She had a quick flash of inspiration—"At the request of Jack Morgan and the black dragon."
"She lies," one of the Jantris murmured. "She doesn't know the dragon. She's a spy."
"Be calm," Stronlo advised him coolly. "If she is a spy, she will not leave here alive. Tell me what this mission was that the black dragon sent you to perform."
"I'm not permitted to talk about that," Alison said, thinking fast. If Uncle Virge had been properly persuasive, a Malison Ring strike force should be here sometime in the next two or three days. "But I may still be able to get some help for you. Tell me what exactly you have in mind."
"Prove first that you're a friend of Jack Morgan," the suspicious Jantri countered.
This was getting sticky. "How do you suggest I do that?" Alison asked.
"Tell us something about him," Stronlo said.
Alison lifted her hands helplessly. "Like what? Most of what I know about him you won't know and can't confirm. Anything you do know, the Brummgas back at the big house probably know, too. That means nothing I can say will really prove anything."
"Then repeat for us the poem he spoke to the human Noy," the Jantri said.
"You must be joking," Alison protested. "That dragon has hundreds of poems swimming around his brain. I have no idea which one he hauled out for Noy."
"Then perhaps you do not know him after all," the Jantri growled.