Thank you, she said. I owe you one.
No, Arhu said, I’ve paid you back the one I owe you. Now we’re even.
Rhiow was taken aback—but also pleased: by so much this wayward kitten had grown in just a few days. Whether he’ll live much longer to enjoy the threshold of his adulthood, she thought, is another question. But then there was no telling whether there was much left of hers.
She turned, as he did, to have a look at the saurian, lying there struck stiff as a branch of wood on the stones. It’s a variant of the neural inhibitor, Urruah said. Lower energy requirement, easier to carry: it’s not instantly fatal. Say the word, and I’ll make it so.
No, Rhiow said. I’ll thank you for a copy of your variant, though. You always were the lazy creature.
Urruah made a slow smile at her. Rhiow stood over the saurian, studied it. Compared to many they’d seen recently, it was of a slightly soberer mode: dark reds and oranges, melded together as if lizards were trying to evolve the tortoiseshell coloration.
We’ve got places to be, Rhi, Urruah said, and we don’t know where they are yet. Kill it and let’s move on.
No, Arhu said suddenly.
Urruah stared at him. So did Saash. Are you nuts? she hissed. Leave it alive and it’ll run to all its friends, tell them right where we are… and so much for— She declined to say more.
Arhu stared at the saurian; Rhiow saw the look and got a chill that raised her fur. Let his lungs go, Arhu said to Urruah. He’s choking.
Urruah threw a glance at Rhiow. She looked down at the saurian, then up at Arhu. His expression was, in its way, as fixed as that of the lizard—but it was one she had never seen on him before: not quite in this combination, anyway. Loathing was there. So was something else. Longing… ?
Who is he? she said to Arhu.
He switched his tail “I don’t know.” The father, he said. My son. —He’s got to come along. Urruah, let him go—!
Rhiow had heard all kinds of tones in Arhu’s voice before now, but never before this one: authority. It astonished her. She glanced over at Urruah. Go on—
He blinked: the wizardry came undone. Immediately the saurian began to roll around, choking and wheezing for air; Arhu backed away from him, watched him. So did all the others.
After a few moments he lay still, then slowly gathered his long hind legs under nun and got back up on his feet. He was another of the mini-tyrannosaur breed, bigger than the last one they had seen. He turned slowly now in a circle, looking at each of them from his small, chilly eyes. His claws clenched, unclenched, clenched again. Each forelimb had six.
“Why am I still alive?” he said. It was a hissing, breathy voice, harsh in its upper register.
“That’s the question of the week,” Urruah said, throwing an annoyed glance at Arhu.
“Why did you attack us?” Rhiow said.
“I smelled you,” it said, and glared at her. “You should not be here.”
“Well, we are,” Rhiow said. “Now, what will you do?”
“Why have you come down out of the sunlight into the dark?” said the saurian.
Glances were exchanged. Tell him? Certainly not— Then, suddenly, Arhu spoke.
“We are on errantry,” he said, “and we greet you.”
The saurian stared at him.
“You are not,” he said, “the one who was foretold.”
“No,” Arhu said, in a tone of absolute certainty.
Rhiow looked at Urruah, then at Saash. What is this?
“What, then, will you do?” said the saurian, looking around at them.
Be extremely confused? Saash said. I’ll start chasing my tail right now if it’ll help.
Lacking any other obvious course of action, Rhiow decided to assert herself. “We have business below,” she said: that at least was true as far as she knew. “We can’t leave you here, now that you’ve seen us. You must come with us, at least part of the way. If you agree, we’ll do you no harm, and we’ll free you when we’re done. If you disagree, or try to trick or elude us, we’ll bring you by force; if you try to betray us, we’ll kill you. Do you understand that?”
The saurian gave Rhiow a cool look. “We may be slow, trapped down in this cold place,” it said, “but we are not stupid.”
Rhiow licked her nose.
“Lead us down, then,” Urruah said. “We don’t wish any of your people to see us. But we must make our way well down there.” He gestured with his tail over the parapet.
The saurian looked in the direction of the gesture. Rhiow wished desperately that there was some way to read expression in these creatures’ faces, but even if there was, it was not a subject she had ever studied.
“Very well,” the saurian said, and turned toward another passageway that led from the parapet, the one from which it had leapt at Rhiow.
“Wait a minute,” Arhu said. The saurian paused, looked over its shoulder at him: an oddly graceful position, tail poised in midair behind it, strong lithe neck supporting the long toothy head as it glanced around at Arhu.
“What’s your name?” he said.
“Sehhjfhhihhnei’ithhhssshweihh,” it said: a long breath, a hiss, a breath again.
Urruah screwed his eyes shut in annoyance. Rhiow almost smiled: here was a creature who could sing o’hra in six different ehhif dialects but who also claimed to hate languages. Only new ones, and not for long, Rhiow thought. “Well?” she said.
“Ith,” Urruah said. “We’ll call you Ith. Come on, Ith, walk in front of me.”
Ith stepped forward and through the doorway, making his way downward on the path that led from it. Urruah went close behind him; after him went Arhu. Rhiow looked closely at Arhu’s expression as he passed her. It was peculiar. There was scorn there, distaste, but also an intent look, an expression of near-relief, as if something that was supposed to happen was now happening. And almost some kind of longing— She would have given a great deal to slip into Arhu’s mind and see more closely what was going on. The thought of sabotage, of wizardries being undone as if from the inside, was still on Rhiow’s mind. But in the back of her thoughts, a voice whispered, Don’t disturb him now. Let what happens happen. It may make no difference—or all the difference in the worlds.
Saash gave Rhiow a glance as she passed her. Rhiow stood still for a moment, licking her nose nervously; the Whisperer was rarely so uncertain. But ignoring her advice is rarely wise.
Rhiow slipped through the doorway after Saash and followed her down into the darkness.
Chapter Eleven
The way led along more dark stairs and corridors, all winding downward. Deep narrow openings pierced some of the walls: they might have been windows, except that no face could ever be seen looking through any of them. Others resembled doors, but they led nowhere except into small rooms that held only more darkness. “Why isn’t anybody up here?” Urruah muttered, as they passed yet another of those deep windows and looked at it nervously. “There are enough of your people down that way.”