“Mom gave me the day off,” Jessica said. “I’ll com and let her know we decided to go to Thunder River and see how that ’cat we rescued is doing. Even with everything that’s happened, it’s not all that late. We might make it back by evening.”
“Okay,” Anders said, lifting the air car above the canopy and setting the coordinates. “My dad won’t miss me, but I’ll message him I’m going to be late. I’d already told him I’d be out for dinner.”
“I’ll com Scott first this time,” Jessica said. “Just in case he’s off with a patient.”
But Dr. Scott said he’d be available when they arrived. He didn’t ask many questions, only asked Jessica to show him her wounds via her uni-link.
“Looks like they’ve been treated fine,” he said. “But I’m with Anders. Better you have me look at them. Survivor’s doing well enough, but he’s edgy. I’m sure having a chance to talk with Valiant will help. See if you can stay the night so they can confab.”
“I’ll check,” Jessica said.
Naomi Pheriss gave permission cheerfully. “I’ll save you some berry ice cream.”
“Thanks, Mama.”
As Jessica shut off her uni-link, Anders glanced over at her. “No offense, Jess, but you look tired. I won’t crash the car. Why don’t you cuddle up with Valiant and nap?”
She gave him a grateful smile. “I think I will. I think I will.”
* * *
Dirt Grubber was pleased when he realized they were going to Darkness Foe and Swift Striker. He had a great deal to tell Keen Eyes. He spent much of the journey organizing his thoughts and soothing Windswept so that her sleep would be a healing one. Every so often, he went over to pat Bleached Fur. The young man was very thoughtful but, despite a certain tension, his mind-glow held the serenity of a decision made and accepted.
Dirt Grubber stayed with Windswept while Darkness Foe checked her injuries. When he was sure she was not injured more severely than she had seemed to be, he patted her on the arm and pointed in the direction of the room where Keen Eyes and Swift Striker waited.
Windswept gave him a gentle shove, accompanied by a few mouth noises and a glow of agreement Dirt Grubber took to mean she understood. From the relaxed under notes of her mind-glow, he gathered that they were planning to stay the night. He was pleased. Today had been very full and he needed time to let new ideas take root and grow.
When he joined his friends, he shared with them the events of the day. Keen Eyes mind-glow brightened, taking strength from his pleasure in learning so many of his clan had survived the battle. There were dark notes, for some had died, and the injured were many, but the damage was clearly not as extreme as he had dreaded.
<I am pleased, too, that Nimble Fingers lived and is devoted to making sure the truth about my clan’s situation is spread. He is a very strong Person. I have no doubt he will be a treasured elder of his clan someday. What Pleasant Singer said fills in many things that had puzzled me.>
Swift Striker curled his whiskers forward. <Now what will we do? From Pleasant Singer’s words, it is clear Trees Enfolding Clan’s range will not bear both clans. Landless Clan must be moved to a healthy range of its own, yet how can we do this? Windswept and Bleached Fur are clever enough to have understood this for themselves, I am sure—if they did not, why did they take the box of birds? Clearly they realize Landless Clan is in dire straits. And Darkness Foe is a healer, who has seen the marks of hunger on Keen Eyes and the bodies of his dead clan mates. So I believe it is possible the two-legs would be prepared to aid us, but People are not rocks or twigs to be moved at will. Keen Eyes, do you think your clan would cooperate?>
Keen Eyes rubbed his fingers along his throat, where a fine downy fur was growing back…and causing a degree of itching.
<I believe they will want to, but the condition of our clan is much like that of Trees Enfolding. Our mind healers are already extended to their limits. Worse, we have no memory singer to tell us how such events fit into the greater pattern of events in the history of our clan. We lost many adults. Our elders are not bad People, but they are not apt at change.>
All three of the People gazed at one another, thinking, tasting and sharing their mind-glows, for what Keen Eyes had said was clearly true. People did not seek change the way ground-runners sought out lace leaf. It did not come easily to them at the best of times, and these were scarcely the best of times for the Landless Clan. But then, after several moments, Dirt Grubber chortled deep in his throat.
<I have an idea. My clan was recently saved from fire. To escape, many of our young and elderly rode in one of the flying things. Most found it very exciting. I could share my experiences but, because of my bond with Windswept, your elders might consider me suspect. Perhaps one of our memory singers could come speak to your clan. She could share not only our adventure but also the history of clan migrations.>
Keen Eyes bleeked in astonishment. <Memory singers are very valuable People. Would your clan agree to risk one?>
Dirt Grubber nodded. <When you have none and we have several? I believe so.>
Swift Striker added, <I would go to my clan, but the distance between my clan and yours is quite far, even in a flying thing. Perhaps when Climbs Quickly returns, he could find someone from Bright Water to help. His sister, Sings Truly, is their senior memory singer and, as we have all heard, a very adventurous female. Now that I consider matters, I suspect we would have more trouble keeping her away than getting her to help.>
Dirt Grubber cocked his ears as if listening for a distant sound. <I cannot be sure, but I believe Pleasant Singer might help. She did not say so directly, but when we spoke I had the feeling that she was considering asking one of her own juniors if they would consider joining the Landless Clan and teaching Tiny Choir. The clan lore will not be exactly the same, but their borders touched, and some events will be known to both.>
<If this is the case,> Swift Striker said, bouncing happily, <then we will have several memory singers to help convince your elders!>
Keen Eyes agreed. <Can you tell how long Darkness Foe will wish to keep me here? I know it has been only a short time, but I am eager to be there to help my clan.>
<I cannot say,> Swift Striker replied. <But I think he will understand if we show him your desire. Mind-blind he may be, but he has understanding that bridges the silence.>
* * *
The humans spent much of the evening discussing the possible relocation of the Skinny ’Cat Clan.
“We’re going to need to bring the SFS in on this at some point,” Scott concluded. “Stephanie and Karl’s return home may be the perfect excuse for a private meeting—one that won’t alert the x-a’s that something’s up.”
“I don’t expect to hear from Steph today,” Anders said. “It’s already evening in Landing, and tonight’s when she’s giving her big talk to the Adair Foundation. I’ll message her and time delivery so there’s no chance she’ll get it until that’s over. Knowing Steph, she’ll be eager to help.”
He hoped so, especially given what he’d be telling her as soon as he could. What if she got in a snit and refused to have anything to do with them? No. He wouldn’t believe that. Stephanie had always been an advocate for treecats. If she got upset, she’d probably just channel it into finding a solution.
He hoped.
The next morning, he found a message from Stephanie waiting. He opened it, expecting tales of triumph, and met with a shock. As soon as he had the details, he went tearing downstairs where Irina and Jessica were chatting over tea. Scott emerged from where he’d been checking over Survivor’s wounds just as he arrived.