“Nay!” Nepe cried, and such was her animation in the tension of this role that she really was crying; tears were flowing. “He be nothing to thee! Oh, let him go, Adept!”
Sirelba stirred. “Get away from here, girl,” she rasped. “You will only antagonize her.”
“Good advice, bitch,” Tania said.
Nepe backed away. “Ne’er will I forget thee, my Promised!”
Then, feigning reluctance, she turned and walked on along the path. The final ploy had worked. She had gotten past! When she was safely out of sight, she thought to her other self again. Flach! Now exchange—and get far gone from here! They made their joint effort, and again Nepe felt the disorientation. Then she was back in her robotic body in Proton. She had done it! She had exchanged, and used her one spell, and her ability to act like what she was, a girl, and had sprung Flach from the trap! Meanwhile Flach had been secure here, unsuspected.
Suddenly she was very tired. She slept. Some time later Flach called: Nepe, our fathers be communicating now; we can talk.
Where are you? she asked joyfully.
With Phoebe Harpy. She be independent now, though her Flock aligns with the Adepts, and will betray me not. I be in harpy form. They will ne’er look for me here!
I’m so glad, Flach! But what of Sirelba? She decoyed for us—
I could check not directly, but Phoebe says Mach came and knew on the instant her nature, yet oddly showed no ire. They let her go unharmed. I be glad, for she—
A thrill of alarm ran through her. No ire? Flach, I fear—
Then he caught on. A trap for thee! 0, Nepe, if this be so—
Cease contact! she thought.
He cut off immediately. Now Nepe had to make a decision: should she sit tight, hoping the Adepts and Citizens had not used her contact with Flach to trace her, or should she make a break for it? She had several alternative hideouts; she could disappear as Troubot and assume a new and quite different form. But if they were closing in on her, she would not have time, and anyway, she did not want the real Troubot to take the brunt of their wrath. They might even be waiting for just such a break, to confirm her identity.
She and Flach had gone into hiding because they wanted to help Citizen Blue and the Adept Stile, rather than the Con trary Citizens and the Adverse Adepts. They had learned how to communicate with each other, but could not explain to their grandfathers how they did it. Their communication was more versatile than that of their fathers, because they did not have to overlap geographically in their frames. That ability would be invaluable to either side, but more so to Blue and Stile, because those two did not communicate at all. Blue believed that if the Oracle could analyze how Nepe did it, it could give the key to others—but if Grandpa Blue had taken Nepe to the Oracle, the Citizens would have snooped and learned everything. So they hadn’t risked it. But now that her ability was known, she had nothing to lose by going to the Oracle—except that the Citizens would never allow it, because it would help mainly Citizen Blue. What a complicated mess!
If only she had been able to remain hidden longer, until the grandfathers found some way to get her together with the Oracle secretly! Maybe, if she got through this without being discovered, that would happen.
She decided to sit tight. But her mind was whirling. Suppose Tania had recognized her, and deliberately let her go? Then told Mach, who could have used his magic to trace Flach’s route—and let him seem to escape so that he would give away any other accomplices he had, and in the end contact her in Proton while Mach was listening? While he was only pretending to be communicating with Bane, actually attuned to Flach’s communication with her, Nepe? Of course he would not be angry about Sirelba; all was going according to his plan! Had they caught Nepe at the edge of the fog, she would have refused to contact or exchange with Flach, and he would have remained safely hidden.
The longer she thought about it, the more certain she be came that all was lost. Thus she was hardly even surprised when she received a call from Bane:
“Nepe, we have you spotted. Please resume your natural form and return to our custody; we shall not harm you.” It was over. They had located her. She would not be able to help Grandpa Blue after all.
She melted. The metal-hard facade of her four-year form dissolved. This was necessary for her to resume her human form—but it was also her way of collapsing in grief.
7 - Neysa
Neysa came again to take the boy, four years after the last time. She trotted up to the Red Demesnes just as if nothing had changed, and Flach was waiting for her, Mach standing behind him. But the boy had changed; he was eight years old instead of four, healthy with his years of outdoor living among the wolves. He looked wonderful.
Flach stepped forward to meet her—and his face clouded over with mixed emotions. “0, Granddam, how glad I be to see thee again!” he cried, and hugged her neck; but her falling mane concealed the tears on his face. She knew why. He was glad to see her—but also sad to be captive. For there was no doubt of his status now; he was in the power of the Adverse Adepts, and they would not let him get away again. Neysa’s own complicity in his prior break was of course known, but she could not be touched because she was of Stile’s camp and expected to do his bidding. But this time she would deliver the boy to Stile; the ploy of his hiding was over.
Flach mounted, and she set off, not deigning to acknowledge the rovot. She followed the same route she had the last time, knowing what the boy would want.
She felt his mood lighten as they approached the Werewolf Demesnes. He would get to see his friends in passing. He could not remain, but at least they could exchange greetings. The main portion of the Pack was not-so-mysteriously absent, but three young wolves were present.
“0, Granddam, may I?” Flach begged.
Neysa halted by the three, and Flach dismounted. He assumed wolf form, and sniffed noses and tail with each of the three in turn. Then all assumed human form, and Flach embraced each.
“0 Forel!” he exclaimed to the brown-haired boy. “0 Terel!” to the tawny-haired girl. And, last, to the pretty black-haired girl, “0 Sirelba! Thou didst do so well for me!”
“It be Sirelmoba now, my Promised,” she informed him gently, hugging him closely. “They granted me my Kill.”
“Would I had been there, to cheer for thee and gain mine own name!”
“They gave it thee,” she said. “Barelmosi.”
“They gave it me?” he asked, amazed. “But they knew then I be not o’ the Pack!”
“They knew then thou wast grandpup o’ Neysa—and Stile.”
“But there was none to growl for me!”
“There were three to growl for thee.”
Flach hugged her more tightly, his tears flowing again. “Must needs I go now, but I will see thee when I can, and when—”
“Aye,” she agreed.
Then the three resumed wolf form, and Flach remounted Neysa. He could have run along beside her in wolf form, but it was important that his status be clear, for the watching Adepts.
Neysa resumed her motion. Flach waved to the standing wolves, then sought her mane again for his tears. Neysa trotted on, still following the route they had taken, sharing the boy’s nostalgia. It had been a fine ploy they had made, and it had won the Adept Stile four more years of parity, and Citizen Blue the same in Proton. It had also given Flach excellent experience in another culture. She would have preferred that he obtain it among the unicorns, but of course that would have been too obvious. Certainly Kurrelgyre’s Pack was a worthy alternative. She remembered when she had met the werewolf for the first time, at the then-palace of the Oracle; they had almost come to combat, being hereditary enemies. But Stile had made peace between them, and later made them oath-friends, and that was part of the good he had brought to Phaze.