Gallen considered. Zeus knew more than he spoke. If the giant mistwives, with their long pale bodies, were as blind as other creatures down here, they probably would have a strong sense for motion. The ship’s pulsing gravity waves would vibrate the trees. The ship would be like a fly in a web, its death throes calling the spiders.
“All right then, we land,” Gallen said. He picked a spot among the branches where humus was thick, docked the ship.
He got out to check the landing site. He didn’t see any of the long, two-toed tracks of the sfuz, yet the ground here was soft and thick. It had not been disturbed in years. On their initial voyage, he’d spotted sfuz spoor early.
But this time Gallen had landed far away from the ridges where he imagined Teeawah would have been, farther out toward the center of the valley. With all this rain, Gallen imagined that beneath them the tangle would give way to lakes and rivers. Certainly the roots of the great dew trees would block the streams, choking them like beaver dams. The mistwives would be in those waters. The thought gave him a chill.
The ship’s lights showed vapor hanging in the air like tattered cobwebs, air so still Gallen could hear his heart thump. In the distance, a strange noise echoed through the tangle-the crashing of falling detritus, then a thundering boom. Gallen didn’t know if it was a natural cataclysm-a log breaking-or if the gravity waves his ship emitted had dislodged something. More frightening was the concern that a living creature had made that noise-a mistwife, moving aside whole trees?
Gallen returned up the gangplank into the ship. “This is a good place to camp,” he told the others. “I think we should get some rest, do some packing.”
“Camp? In the middle of the day?” Orick asked. “What are you after thinking, lad?”
“If I’m right, the dronon don’t know we’re here yet,” Gallen said. “But eventually they’ll find us. Our ship will detect any sensors they use to search for us. Once they find us, they won’t give us much rest. I think we should take what we can get.”
“What about the sfuz?” Zeus asked. “Won’t they discover the ship?”
“Not likely. I’ve parked us out over the water, about even with the tops of the cliffs where the sfuz live. I didn’t exactly plan this, but there’s no sign of sfuz here-no sign that they ever come here. So now I’m thinking that maybe the fox doesn’t hunt where the wolf is on the prowl.”
“Meaning?” Orick asked.
“The sfuz won’t come searching for us-not with the mistwives about. No sfuz has been through here in months, I’d wager.”
“But, it’s still early morning. The sfuz are sleeping,” Orick said. “Shouldn’t we make tracks while the sun shines?”
“I didn’t say we’d sleep all day,” Gallen said. “You’ve got two hours to rest, then we leave.”
Chapter 30
As the doors to his stateroom closed, Orick felt pensive. He had to decide about Tallea. He’d taken her into danger before, but never into anything as foolhardy as this. He owed her a decision.
So he wondered: do I continue teaching her as a missionary, as if she were some young cub first learning its catechism, or do I tell her of the love that’s in my heart?
Tallea had clambered into the room before him, her lumbering form oddly mesmerizing. For a black bear, she was rather small. Attractive, but not a classic beauty. His feelings for her ran deeper than they should. Orick had been drawn to her all along, even when she was still human. And it wasn’t right. No one who wanted to devote himself to God should feel this deeply in love with a she-bear.
Tallea hopped on the bed and closed her eyes, resting. When Orick didn’t move to join her, she said, “Gallen is right, we should get a moment’s rest while we can.”
Orick considered climbing next to her, but didn’t. He just stood, forlorn, trying to make up his mind about her.
Tallea opened her eyes to slits. “Did you want to tell me more of your stories about God?”
The idea hadn’t occurred to him. “They’re more than stories. At least they feel like that to me.”
“Tallea didn’t speak for a moment. “You can if you want. I don’t mind.”
But Orick felt uncomfortable. “I’m sorry,” Orick said. “I shouldn’t have been making you listen to them all this time-”
“Oh no, you’re not making me,” Tallea said. “I like hearing them. They make me feel-”
Orick didn’t believe her apology. “Really, I didn’t mean to cram it down your throat. I should be …”
“What?”
Orick made a little noise, half growl and half bark, a sound of consternation among bears. “I just wanted to say, thank you for listening. I didn’t mean to preach at you like this. I keep doing all the talking, and you do all the listening. It’s good of you, but your problems are so much … bigger, or more important, or something “
“What do you mean?” Tallea asked, all innocence. Orick suspected she knew what he wanted to say. “Well, I keep babbling on about things; and for the last couple of days, I haven’t talked to you at all about-you know, other things. I talk about only what I want to talk about, not what’s important to you.”
“I see,” Tallea said, all coyness. She wriggled on the bed, putting her muzzle under her paws, staring at him. By giving him her complete attention, she begged him to go on.
“I mean,” Orick said, “well, what about you? I know you aren’t happy as a she-bear, but I don’t dare so much as ask you how you’re feeling?”
“I feel fine,” Tallea said.
“But, you told me you missed your hands. Don’t you miss having human hands?”
“You can do a lot without hands,” Tallea said. “I have a nose that works better than my old one ever did. I never get cold. I don’t miss my hands.”
Orick’s mind did a little flip. He couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. Tallea seemed suddenly-well, changed. She seemed so at peace. Orick argued, “Yes, but you’ve got all kinds of other problems!”
“Nothing larger than the giant David slew,” Tallea said. “The angel of death has passed me by. What should I fear? My friends have not betrayed me or sold me for silver. I see no crosses on my horizon.”
Orick considered her words. She wasn’t just telling him she felt peaceful, she was speaking in symbols, the symbols he’d taught her over the past two days, and the sincerity in her eyes told him that not only had she been listening, but his stories were important to her. He wondered if the spirit had touched her. “I … I don’t get it.”
“I was in a bad mood when I complained,” Tallea said. “l see that now. You let me think about other things. My problems aren’t as big as David’s Goliath. It might be true I was human once, and I’ve lost that. But you must also remember that I was a Caldurian-restless, protective, never able to sleep. So I’ve been thinking, what did I really lose? I lost my hands and my appearance, but as a bear I feel so much more … at peace than I ever could as a Caldurian. I think maybe I should quit thinking about what I lost, and consider what I’ve gained.”
“And the angel of death?”
“That’s easy,” Tallea said. “If nothing else, I still have life. The angel of death passed over me, and I’m reborn. If I don’t like this life as a bear, then when I die, I can always hope to be something else. All I have to do is live worthily, so the Lords of Tremonthin will resurrect me. How could I be sad?”
“Yes.” Orick could feel a hollowness in his chest, a deep sense of guilt. True, at this moment she made light of her problems, but he’d wronged her. “But, you came back to be with me, and I-”
“-You aren’t responsible for my decisions. I made them without consulting you. You’re as much a victim of my shortsightedness as I am.”
Orick felt astonished. “I don’t understand. A few days ago, you were so mad at me.”
“You took my mind off my own problems,” Tallea said. “Seen in a different light, they aren’t so bad.”
“But …” Orick had more to say. Indeed, he had something tremendously important to say but didn’t quite know how to put it. “Tallea, I have something to confess to you. Something I should have said: when you decided to be reborn-I-when you died, I’d never felt hurt like that before. I’d never felt so desolate.”