Overcome with sudden remorse, she stroked Gorm’s shaggy head. “Clever bear,” she whispered. “Clever bear, bring him back safely.”
Their camp was set back in a pocket of a rock outcrop only a few hundred feet from the sea. As Gorm had told her, they needed to find a little bay or cove where they could lie undetected and to which Hiero could aim. Open to the sky, but otherwise walled except in front, it was a good location. Luchare, mindful of Hiero’s warning, had built a screen of brush on the beach side, so that the fire was invisible unless you came within a few feet.
The bear awoke suddenly and sniffed the breeze. Wind, stronger, Girl (identity Luchare symbol). The sky is dark. Hiero may have good luck (?). He lay back and shut his eyes again.
But he’s in prison! she thought. The Metz priest himself would have been surprised at how well Luchare had learned to use her mind. She and Gorm could conduct a regular conversation with very few breaks now, and she could even give the big morse intelligible orders, although she usually asked Gorm to do this for her. Klootz accepted Gorm’s commands completely, as he would have Hiero’s, another thing the priest would have found worth pondering. The bear had been very careful, too, when planning their next moves.
Do not try (negative emphatic) to talk to Hiero! He had made the order plain. Talk only to me or Klootz and when we are close together. Being clever herself, she realized that he knew what the dangers were far better than she. She ought not to try and locate Hiero mentally, lest she unwittingly draw the enemy down upon them instead.
But damn this waiting and wondering!
An hour or so later, she felt the bear rouse himself again. This time he rose and stood, dark, pointed head erect, as if trying to see through the racing clouds about them. Somehow, she now was attuned enough to know, he was in communication with the priest again. If only she could understand and were not so stupid! There must be some way she could help, if she could only think of it! Then she realized with a thrill, that Gorm was now talking to her.
I cannot describe this place properly. You must tell him what it looks like. He cannot see well with my eyes.
Then, into her mind like a flood, came Hiero! But there was no greeting, no warmth, only commands!
Quick, girl, where are you? Try to tell me what this place looks like from the sea, if you can imagine it. And hurry!’ There was a pause. I am pursued; I cannot keep this mind path open for long. Hurry!
Luchare was terrified. She had wanted so much to help, but now she was unable even to think. Anything she thought might kill Hiero, if the information were incorrect. But she came of fighting stock and managed to rally.
Wait, she sent clumsily. I will try. We are less than a day’s journey east from where you were taken. Offshore is a lone rock with two palms growing at the east end. The rock is high in the west, low to the east. Behind it is a small cove with a beach. We are there.
That’s enough! Hiero snapped. No more until you see me, or they will use you. Don’t send any more messages until you actually see me, understand! Now wait! There was a sudden blankness, a “silence.” Luchare burst Into tears. Here he was, in deadly danger, maybe about to be killed, and not one kind word for her, not even a “hello” or “how are you”! The next moment her tears increased at the thought of her own selfishness. Even as she stormed at his coldness, he might be dead!
Wait, be calm, came the thought in her mind. Looking down through her tears, she saw that Gorm lay on his stomach, head on his furry paws, looking up at her.
He will come back, the thought continued. And he thinks of you too. Only now he must fight for his life. Be patient.
Luchare blinked back the tears and then reached down and hugged the bear. How had he known what she was feeling?
Your mind was open to me, he sent. When Hiero spoke to you, it was through me. Your own mind is not yet strong enough for such a task. Now sleep while I keep watch.
Soothed, but still apprehensive, she lay down on her waterproof cloak, staring at the black sky above and listening to the small breakers hitting the beach and the rattle of the wind in the palmettos. She was sure she could not possibly sleep, and the bear observed with satisfaction that she was asleep in hardly any time at all.
These humans, he thought. They take their affections so hard! Then he resumed listening to the night.
His face calm, but his mind racing, Hiero watched the coil of the great water worm disappear below the surface. He was braced against the lee side, gripping his steering oar in one hand and the sheet, the line holding the sail, in the other. The little craft was tearing along the rocky coast of Manoon, the wind on her quarter, and he was keeping her as close to the cliffs as he dared. Something told him that the danger would be greater out on the open water. Soon, however, he would have to leave the shelter of the isle and strike out for the mainland. He knew by his Internal “compass” and the glimpse of the land at sunset where he wanted to head, but keeping an unfamiliar small boat on course in this stiff breeze was something else again. And now the haunters of the depths were being loosed upon him. He could still feel the vibration in his mind which he had decided was the hunting call sent out from the Dead Isle to the monster worms. He strained his eyes through the black night to see if a worm or a sharp rock would appear first in the murk and destroy him.
Once a great swell broke two boat lengths to seaward of his little craft, but he could not see whether something was lurking below or a wave crest had simply toppled over naturally.
A vagrant fleck of moonlight pierced the wind-driven banks of clouds and helped give the priest his new bearings. He was leaving Manoon at last. The farthest, most eastern headland, gaunt and windswept, towered up to his right, blacker than the clouds, and beyond its point lay nothing but windswept open sea. Somewhere off there, how far it was hopeless to guess, must lie the mainland and his friends.
At this point, in order to head the boat around the island, he was forced to jibe and cross the sail over to the other side. This meant raising one leeboard, securing it, and lowering the other. Somehow it got done. Fortunately, the standing lug is one of the simplest rigs ever devised, which may account for its continual rediscovery throughout history. Bringing her around on the new course, Hiero looked back and instantly stiffened.
Out of the tossing sea, three waves back, caught in a ray of the fitful moonlight, the hideous round mouth, pulsing in horrid motion, of a giant worm appeared. To the priest, then and later, these dreadful brutes were “worms,” but in actuality, their origin, like much else, dated back to The Death. In the past only foot-long sea lampreys, the scourge of the local whitefish and trout, forced mutation had turned them into mindless, ravening colossi, capable of overwhelming a small boat. The Unclean wizards of Manoon had found a mental wavelength which stimulated the hideous things into a simultaneous rise to the surface and quest for food. Only the adepts could then control them enough to keep them away from their own vessels, and they thus formed a most effective guard around the island, many of them always lying on the bottom near it.
As the creature bore down on him, clear in the persistent moonlight, the neck arched and cut through the water like that of a giant snake. The small, round eyes, set on the sides of the head, were visible as it swayed from side to side, following each movement of the boat. Almost, it seemed to Hiero, the thing was toying with him, for it advanced at a very slow rate, far slower than if it had been coming in earnest. Probably it was only instinctive caution, for the tiny brain was incapable of any thought. At length it seemed to decide this thing was prey. The motion through the water suddenly increased tenfold, and the head-mouth, barbed fangs all palpitating, struck down at Hiero as he sat in the stern.