Chap glanced up at Osha, but the young elf had not noticed her. He wanted to run beside Lily through the wild forest and let nature's ebb help him decide what course to follow.
He knew he should stay and help his companions consider this shackling bargain with which Most Aged Father tried to bind Leesil. Magiere and Wynn were also in danger here as unwanted outsiders. And in some way, great or small, this was all bound together by the hidden whereabouts of Nein'a. Chap's companions desperately needed to gain some element of power here.
Nein'a's location was the crux of it all.
If they only knew where she was imprisoned, that would remove a good deal of Most Aged Father's hold on Leesil.
Chap heard Wynn half-shout behind him, "This is futile! We will not figure this all out tonight."
"It's all we have to work with," Leesil growled back. "And I'm tired of waiting."
"Stop it, both of you," Magiere said. "Leesil, come take a bath and let it rest for now. I can't even think anymore."
Chap looked out to Lily hiding among the white lilacs. He caught her memories of the two of them running with the pack-and alone by themselves.
Unlike her, Chap could read and even recall and use another's memories within line of sight, but he could not send Lily his own without touching her. There was something he must tell her… something she and her pack needed to help him do.
He had no time to tell his companions and have them argue over it.
Osha still watched him, so Chap turned away from Lily as he slipped out.
He trotted down toward the riverside bazaar, hoping she would circle through the forest and follow. When he cut between a canvas pavilion and a stall made of ivy walls, she was waiting for him.
Lily slid her muzzle along his, until they each rested their head upon the other's neck.
Chap rolled his face into her fur and recalled Lily's own memories of her time with her siblings under the watchful eyes of her mother. He sent his memory of tall Nein'a and a young Leesil together.
He was not as adept as her kind with this memory speech, and his limitation was frustrating. He had "listened" in as Lily and one of the steel-gray twins did this. Memories came and went in such a quick cascade. Whenever she spoke to him, the images were slow and gentle in simple sights, sounds, and scents. She understood he needed time to learn their ways and always showed him patience.
Chap repeated the parallel memories of mother and child. This time, when he called the one of Nein'a and young Leesil, he pulled away Leesil's image, leaving Nein'a alone. He then recalled Lily's memories of her pack hunting in the forest, and did his best to mingle it with his own memory of the tall elven woman.
The last image he sent was one stolen from Most Aged Father-a memory that had now become his own. Cuirin'nen'a, in a shimmering sheot'a wrap, sat in a glade clearing beside a basket of cocoons.
Lily grew still beside him. She sent him no memory-talk. She nudged his muzzle with her own and took off, out of the settlement and into the forest.
Chap raced after as Lily cut loose a howl. Somewhere in the distant trees, the pack answered.
"Where's Chap?" Wynn called out.
She sat alone on her ledge bed with the occasional splash coming from the bath area at the room's rear.
"At least one of us can get out of here for a stretch," Magiere grumbled from behind the curtain.
Wynn was a bit uncomfortable with Magiere and Leesil back there together, with only that gray-green fabric providing privacy. And with all the arguing over Most Aged Father's bargain and Chap's few troubling words…
She climbed to her feet. "Why would Chap slip out without telling us?"
"Who knows?" Leesil called back. "Stick your head out and call him, but don't go wandering about."
Wynn left the two of them to talk-or whatever they did in there. She pulled the outer doorway curtain aside and looked out, but Chap was nowhere in sight. Neither were Sgaile or even Osha. She stepped out for a better view.
There were no elves in sight, and Chap was gone. Both worried her.
Wynn took a few more steps, looking up and down the lane of cultivated trees. To her far left she could just make out the silent and still remains of the dockside bazaar.
"Chap?" she called in a harsh whisper.
Chap rushed into a gully behind Lily. Ahead, the pack waited by a tiny stream. The black-gray elder lifted his head from lapping water gurgling over stones.
Chap had not expected the pack to be so near, but they must have gathered to wait on Lily. As he approached beside her, the majay-hi circled about with huffs and switching tails, one by one touching heads as they passed her or him.
Spry bodies surrounded him with warmth. One yearling colored much like himself charged playfully and butted Chap with his head. Chap shifted aside.
He rejoiced in their welcome, but urgency kept him from languishing. He was neither certain how they could help nor how he could ask. Lily seemed to understand but would the others? On impulse, he pressed his head to hers and again showed her the stolen memory of Nein'a's hidden prison.
Lily stayed against him, listening until he finished, then darted away.
She brushed heads with the large black elder. An instant later, the male turned and touched a passing steel-gray female, the other twin. The rest joined in, and Chap watched the swirling dance of memory-talk as it passed through the pack.
The elder's crystal blue eyes turned upon Chap.
The old one tilted his gray muzzle, and then hopped the stream and scrambled up the gully's embankment more fleetly than his age would suggest.
Lily trotted back to Chap and pressed her head to his. He saw a memory of the two of them resting beneath a leaning cedar after a long run. It seemed he was to wait-but for what?
Chap's frustration mounted, still wondering if the pack truly understood what he needed.
A rolling, moaning howl like a bellow carried through the forest. It came from the direction where the elder had disappeared.
Lily brushed Chap's head with a memory of running as the rest of the pack charged off. He followed her up the embankment and through the woods. When he cleared the close trees, he saw the elder.
The black-gray majay-hi stood on a massive cracked boulder jutting from a hillside of sparse-leafed elms. The pack remained below, and he appeared to be waiting and watching for something. The elder glanced upslope over his shoulder, and Chap stepped back from the boulder's base to see.
Branches of a hillside elm appeared to move as if drifting through the trees. Two eyes high above the ground sparked in the half-moon's light andcame downslope into clear sight.
Head high, the silver-gray deer descended, coming up beside the grizzle-jawed old majay-hi. Its tineless curved antlersrose to a height no man or elf could reach. The shimmer of its long-haired coat turned to pure white along its throat and belly. Its eyes were like those of the majay-hi, clear blue and crystalline.
The deer slowly lowered its head with a turn of its massive neck.
Lily nudged Chap, pushing him forward.
Chap did not understand. Was he to go to this creature?
She shoved him again and then darted around the boulder's side. She stood waiting, and Chap loped after her. Before he caught up, Lily headed upslope, and he followed. At the height where stone met the earth slope, she stood aside and lifted her muzzle toward the silver deer.
Chap hesitated. What did this have to do with finding Nein'a?
Lily pressed against him. Along with a memory echo of the tall elven woman he had first shown her, Lily showed him something more-a memory of the pack elder touching heads with one of these crystal-eyed deer.
Chap froze as the deer swung its head toward him.
He could not have imagined this creature might communicate in the same way as the pack. A tingling presence washed over him as he peered into the deer's eyes.