Frey seemed amazed but asked, "What got you interested in them? Surely you knew the dangers before you—"
"Before I met Ontarrah? No, I didn't know they could be true friends. When I was Protector of Takora's Oliat, I felt as you do. But after I'd Inverted Takora's and found how people thought of me for it, I became Raichmat's Outreach, so I had to deal with ephemerals again. They didn't know or care what an Invert was. Then I met Ontarrah." He tightened a line, grunting, "If people can be wrong about Inverts, maybe they're wrong about ephemerals too?"
"I don't see how. They don't live long enough to become friends. When they die, they just leave you a scar to impede farfetching. They may be good people but not worth that."
"Dushau die too. 'To dam love behind a barrier of fear is to prevent Completion,' or so Shoshunri used to say."
"Love?" Frey looked at his mentor.
Jindigar leaned on a sled's cargo. "Would it shock you if I said I loved Ontarrah?"
"Yes. I'd always thought they maligned you with that."
"Well, I did. But I learned from it. I'll never let that happen again, any more than I'd ever again snatch an Oliat from its Center and Invert it. Neither act Completes."
"Then Krinata doesn't really mean anything to—"
"You said she came up with the best plan. Are you going to throw it away because she's bound to die soon?"
"No, but it's nothing personal."
"Exactly."
Satisfied, Frey ducked into the dry area, and for a moment, as the flap opened, firelight danced over Jindigar's features. He stared after his prot6g6, his jaunty confidence fading swiftly. Frey was right, he's fighting a losing battle against liking me, and it terrifies him.
Long after Jindigar went inside, Krinata stood in the rain, huddled in her cloak, emotions crystallizing with understanding. She should never have followed him to the waterfall. He needed those private moments. Her job was to uproot Desdinda and free Jindigar to go his own way. As she cast herself emotionally into that future, to test it, she found a renewed joy and satisfaction. She remembered the time, as a child, when she'd found a wild bird with a broken wing. She'd mended it, and she'd loved that bird so much, she cried when it was time to loose it. But later, the keen joy of its elation in freedom had been enough.
Later, her mind replayed the overheard conversation, leaving her chasing elusive fragments of memory. Ontarrah. Jindigar had often called her that in delirium as if she were Ontarrah. Takora—another name he'd mumbled.
Sometime toward dawn she twisted and turned and fought her way free of nightmare, hands clamped over her mouth to stifle sobs as she realized she was fighting Jindigar, and she wanted to kill him. The feeling evaporated as she caught her breath, but it left behind one phrase: 'Takora's Oliat."
In the morning she found that the night's debate had yielded the decision to go with her plan, as Jindigar had predicted.
While everyone worked to free the sleds, Storm and Ruff hiked back to plant the false trail. They caught up with the group again while Frey and the two other Lehiroh eradicated every trace of their passage. Jindigar had them walk on leaves in one direction, then turn into a game trail leading east along the trough where the hill joined the forest.
The next day the trail narrowed, and they strung out single file, Frey or Jindigar always off scouting with two of the Lehiroh, leaving three sleds to be tied onto the back of other sleds. It was dangerous, but they had to keep moving.
Krinata had suffered another bad night, this time with nightmares of helplessness. As they settled for their second stop of the afternoon, she saw Jindigar, Storm, and Ruff about to leave the group, saying they'd be back before the rest break was over. On impulse she walked up to them, saying, "I’d like to go with you." Maybe if I drive myself hard enough, I'll get some real sleep tonight.
Frey objected, but Jindigar said, "She could carry the tripod, leaving Storm and Ruff both hands for the stunners."
"Tripod?" asked Krinata.
Storm produced a backpack. "To the snooper. Handheld, it'll only tell us if there's energized equipment out there. But on the tripod it can read location too." He held up a hand to Jindigar. "And don't say it! I know the Oliat could do it even better without instruments."
Ruff had the snooper pack on his back, and Storm carried energy cells for the stunners. Jindigar carried the medical supplies. She hefted the tripod. "This is nothing after hauling mat double sled." And she slid into the harness, letting Storm adjust the shoulder straps.
As they were about to leave, Gibson came up, looked them over, and asked, "Mind if I come along?"
"This may be dangerous," said Jindigar. "We've had indications of Squadron activity—"
"So it's my job to take a look." Gibson took a stunner.
They followed a game trail through dense undergrowth, using all they'd learned of woodcraft, though it still seemed she and Gibson made all the noise.
Finally Jindigar signaled a halt at the bottom of a rise.
"You can set the snooper up there," he whispered, pointing to the bald top of the hillock. "I expect you'll get a strong reading—but all residual."
Krinata whispered back, "What's out there? Troopers?"
"A hive, maybe. But—I don't like this—" He stared off to the left of the hillock, shook himself, and got Krinata out of her backpack to help the Lehiroh rig the snooper.
Feeling useless as they all climbed the hill, Krinata let her attention wander. Off to one side she saw a smaller game trail that seemed to lead around the hill—perhaps to a view of the plain beyond. Bent over double, she followed the trail. Vicious thorns pulled at her tough clothes, but after a bit she won through to clearer going. Just as she heard Gibson notice she was gone, she came to a wall of vertical stalks.
Parting the stalks, she saw a grassland crossed by a stream that had cut itself a ditch. The ditch was choked with young trees. Not far beyond the trees a column of greasy smoke rose straight into the air.
Twisting to look behind her, she caught a flash of indigo against the rust-and-green forest. She peered out at the plain, looking for the dangers she'd learned about. It seemed peaceful enough, except for the smoke. If I let Jindigar talk me out of this, I'll feel helpless all day as well as all night!
As Jindigar, followed by Storm, Ruff, and Gibson, arrived, she wormed through the stalks and headed for the source of the smoke. The others emerged cautiously, Jindigar kneeling to sift pebbles through his hand. Then they came after her. Jindigar caught her by the elbow as she was looking for a place to ford the stream. "It's a hive—destroyed by energy weapons." Intense anguish in his eyes, he warned, 'It's ugly, Krinata—"
"I've got to see. We might learn something." Needing to defy his attempt to make decisions for her, she plunged into the gully, waded across, and scrambled up the other side. "Come on!" She pushed through the young trees and, intent only on confronting her fears, saw the hive.
It was smoking rubble, reeking of burning meat. The dome-shaped fieldstone building had been flattened as if by a blow from a giant fist. Smaller stones scattered in a splash pattern across the meadow to her feet. Some of those stones were covered with charred blood. In places the organic mortar had burned. Jindigar arrived and, hand trembling, picked up one of the bloodiest stones and stared at the ruin. Behind them, Gibson gagged, and the Lehiroh spat.
The tunnel entrance was still standing, bodies splashed about it as if they'd been trying to escape—or sally forth to attack. Few of the bodies were intact, and so it was difficult to sort them into species, but by the time Jindigar moved, Krinata had identified three main types. The smallest seemed exoskeletal like me Cassrians. Larger ones were mammalian and furred like the Holot but four-limbed. The tallest and slenderest were very humanoid but white-skinned with dark saucer eyes and tall ears on top of a bald skull.