Valiant hovered near as they worked, making the same thrumming purr he had when they’d been treating the injured Survivor. Several other treecats, mostly females, joined him. Anders quickly noticed that these females watched what he and Jessica did very carefully—not as if they were suspicious but as if….
“Jess, I think we have the local doctors here,” he said, as one of the females moved his current patient’s limb so he could see a nasty cut he might otherwise have missed. “If treecats have healers, it would make sense that many of them would be female, since they’d be staying ‘home’ with the kittens and the injured. I bet they have field medics, to…”
“You’re beginning to sound like an anthropologist,” Jessica warned teasingly. “But I bet you’re right. A lot of the wounds I’ve been looking at have been kept clean, the fur around them trimmed back so it won’t grow into the scabs, stuff like that.”
Eventually, they finished. Valiant had been a great deal of help, especially demonstrating how the inhalers worked and convincing the treecats to use them. Then, when Jessica and Anders were packing away their gear, he stiffened, turned, and went loping off in the direction of the young male who’d been their first patient.
“Wonder what that was about?” Anders said.
Jessica grinned. Although she was tired, she was also radiant with pleasure that they’d been able to do so much. “No idea. The other one called him. That’s all I know, but I can assure you, if Valiant thinks we need to know, he’ll figure out a way to tell us.”
* * *
<Dirt Grubber, can you take me to my clan?> Nimble Fingers’ mind-glow was brilliant with urgency. <Whatever your two-leg did to my wounds has me feeling almost myself. I am shaky on my legs, true. But if Windswept would carry me, I am certain I could manage.>
Dirt Grubber considered the other Person with concern.
<Are you certain? The medicines they have for pain may have given you a false sense of what you can do.>
<I think this is more than mere deadening of pain. I truly feel as if flesh that was torn has been pulled together and is healing. No matter the reason, I do not feel there is time to waste. I have heard my uncle calling to me. He is careful to keep out of mind-glow range, but even though I have told him otherwise, he is certain I am a prisoner. The traces of pain he tastes in my mind-voice only affirm his certainty. For the safety of these poor People who have already suffered so much, I must get away from here before his sanity becomes completely unbalanced. Too many would be hurt as he fought to get to me. If you doubt how ferocious he can be, I tell you this, it was Swimmer’s Scourge who nearly killed Keen Eyes.>
<Then he must be terribly wounded himself.>
<Not as severely as you might imagine. Keen Eyes bit down on his throat so that Swimmer’s Scourge passed out, but furious as he was, Keen Eyes is not a killer at heart. He did not rip and tear as he would some bark-chewer or ground-runner, and Swimmer’s Scourge’s other injuries were minor enough.>
Dirt Grubber flipped his tail in comprehension. <And if you leave here, Swimmer’s Scourge will have no reason to come. I understand. It is unlikely he would be any threat to us, even though we will need to travel on foot since you would not be able to guide us to your clan’s central nesting place from the flying thing.>
<I fear I could not. I do not think I would recognize the landmarks if I were flying through the air like a death wing. Would you be willing to try this? When we leave here, I will call to my uncle that I am going back to our clan. He may track us, but I doubt even he is mad enough to attack.>
Dirt Grubber agreed. No Person, not even one driven by stress, would attack a Person of another clan and—especially—a pair of two-legs. The prohibitions against becoming involved with the two-legs had lasted for many turnings before Climbs Quickly had accidentally broken them. Although they had been gently bent these last few seasons, still they were firmly in place in most clans.
<Very well. Windswept and Bleached Fur are done with treating the sick and injured. I will try to make them understand.>
As with his last attempt, Dirt Grubber found his task made easier because his two-legs already had a similar idea. When he came up to them, they were sitting on the front of the flying thing, eating some food they had brought along and watching the now replete Landless Clan with definite satisfaction.
He could taste their pleasure that the big box held as much again of the dead birds as the clan had already eaten, so that hunger would be a while returning.
And if we are fortunate, by the time they are hungering again, we will have found a means of transplanting them from this place.
That thought gave him great satisfaction as he paused before Windswept, cradled his arms the way that she did when she scooped him up to hug and cuddle, and then pointed at Nimble Fingers.
* * *
Anders and Jessica were a bit surprised when Valiant gestured that Jessica was to pick up and carry one of the treecats.
“Do it,” Anders urged. “I’ll carry a pack with all the basics. We’re probably not going too far.”
Jessica nodded and went to inspect her passenger.
“It’s the same one Valiant had us treat first,” she said, examining the ’cat’s injuries before she helped it get into position with true-feet on the pad set into the back of her jacket and true hands on her shoulders. “He seems steady enough, but keep an eye on him.”
“I’d love to tie a sling around him,” Anders said, “but he probably wouldn’t understand. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he doesn’t fall off—or if he does, that I catch him.”
Jessica nodded. “I noticed when we were treating him, and it’s more obvious now that he’s on my shoulder. This guy’s heavier than Survivor was. His ribs don’t stick out nearly as much. Do you think he might be from that other clan?”
Anders shrugged. “Maybe. Was he a prisoner of war, then? A hostage? Someone they took in when he got hurt?”
“I’m not sure we’ll ever know,” Jessica said. “But maybe he’s the guide we’ve been hoping for.”
As they hiked deeper into the spreading trees, they felt the forest coming back to life around them. Where the Skinny ’Cats had been, there were few avians, certainly no small creatures. Even the plants were thinner. Now their passage disturbed numerous living things, only partially glimpsed as they retreated. The leaves overhead lost much of the singed look.
“But there’s still fire damage,” Anders said, “and with everything around burned out, whoever lives here isn’t going to be able to count on natural migration. Those burned areas will act as a sort of moat, at least for ground creatures.”
“Flying ones, too,” Jessica said. “Only hunters like open areas, though large herds will risk them, because the chance of being attacked is spread among so many. But there’s nothing out in those blackened areas for a flock to forage on.”
They didn’t talk much. Once Jessica said, “Valiant’s taking point, but I think the guy on my back is actually giving directions.”
“Guide,” Anders said. “Let’s call him ‘Guide.’ ‘The guy on my back’ sounds kind of kinky.”
Jessica laughed. “Okay. ‘Guide’ it is. There’s something else, though. They’re both edgy. I’m not sure why, but they are.”
Anders patted his handgun. “I’m ready. Want me to carry the gun in my hand like a holo drama hero?”
Jessica’s reply turned into a scream as something came tearing at terrific speed from behind them and landed directly on her head.