“Wouldn’t that have made for an interesting dive? Time enough for forty-eight twists with a couple dozen triple gainers thrown in. Unfortunately, I don’t think I would have survived long enough to enjoy the judging.”
“I’ll try and come to the rescue a little sooner next time.”
He was suddenly solemn as he eyed the sky. “I hope there won’t be a next time. Insult to their professionalism or not, I don’t imagine the Brul will stay if we’re attacked again. Did you get a good enough look at our visitors to classify them? I wasn’t much interested in their taxonomy myself, and I didn’t have the best view.”
“It wasn’t a bird. I’m not even sure it was mammalian. Looked like a cross between a condor and a centipede.”
“Sweet critter. I think we’ll forgo any opportunities for up-close study.” He grimaced as he tried to straighten his arm. “I saw enough to know it spends most if not all of its time in the air.”
“I’ve never seen a quadruple wing arrangement like that before,” she added, “except on insects, and the strepanong’s no insect despite its appearance. It had feathers, and plenty of ’em.”
“I know. I had to smell them.” He looked toward the circle of Tsla. Tyl was watching them, the fire bright in his wide, sad eyes. “You’re positive we’re not more than a day or two march from this town?”
Tyl performed an elaborate gesture with his nose. “I am positive, Etienne. A passing of the sun once or twice across the sky will see us in Jakaie. I look forward to it myself, for I am curious to see how my brethren have adapted to so isolated a home. Life must be harder than in Turput.”
“But not so hard they won’t be able to aid us?”
“Learned Etienne, the more difficult a Tsla’s circumstances, the more generous he is with his hospitality.”
Lyra confirmed this declaration, as Etienne knew she would.
There was much grumbling and many more complaints than usual among the Brul the next morning as they mounted their vroqupii. That was only to be expected. Etienne thought he saw several expressions of hatred directed at himself or his wife, but Homat assured him it didn’t matter whether the drovers disliked them or not. Only that they respected them.
Several of the vroqupii displayed new scars, evidence of attempts by the marauding strepanong to carry them off. At least the weather had decided to cooperate, and the grumbling rapidly died down. It was almost warm as they set out up the trail.
They reached the top of the canyon and paused for a brief celebration, which helped to raise the drovers’ spirits considerably. That night they slept easy, reassured by the sight of one of the Redowls patrolling alertly with asynaptic pistol in hand.
By the following day nearly all dissension had faded away. The trail now crossed level ground and the Brul paused in their shivering long enough to study a land they’d never visited before. They realized they were pioneers of a sort and a few found they were enjoying the journey.
They were two days in from the trail head. The vroqupii surmounted the occasional ridge with ease. The beauty of the lower plateau captivated the travelers, from the rushing streams beginning their long race down to the Skar to the stunted but wide-spreading evergreens.
Lyra was particularly interested in a convoluted pile of brush that Tyl called an aroyt. Covering as much as half an acre, the aroyt was a single growth that defended its highly edible trunk with an impenetrable armor of centimeter-long thorns. There were also clumps of high mossy fungi that rose to their knees and held melt water like a sponge. Not that water underfoot was a problem. Most of the trail had been cut from solid rock. Soil was a precious rarity at this height.
They were approaching a saddle between a finger of Aracunga and a low hill when the two lead Brul who had disengaged themselves from the team to serve as advance scouts returned at a gallop. That in itself was extraordinary, since it was the first time the Redowls had seen a vroqupii move at anything faster than a walk.
Homat hurried to meet the outriders as the procession slowed. The scouts were chattering loudly to their companions as they traveled down the line.
“Maybe they’ve spotted Jakaie over the ridge line,” Lyra suggested hopefully. Too hopefully.
Homat rejoined them quickly, his fright apparent in his expression. “The Brul are taking their animals out of harness.”
“What?” Etienne looked toward the front of the team, could see the drovers working with the harness. “What the devil’s wrong?”
“Exactly,” Homat replied. “Many devils. Demons.” His eyes were wide.
“More strepanong? Or some other animal?”
“Not animal, not animal,” Homat insisted. “Demons!” Etienne could see he was far more terrified than he’d been the night of the scavenger attack.
Etienne started up the line. “They can’t unhitch and quit now! We’re almost there.” As he spoke, several vroqupii were already moving out of file. “You’ve got to make them stop, Homat.”
“They won’t stop, de-Etienne. The strepanong they can understand, but no one can fight demons.”
Desperately, Etienne turned to Tyl. “What’s going on? What are they so frightened of?”
“I am not sure,” Tyl murmured, “but I fear what I may know.”
“Demons are in Jakaie,” Homat went on. He turned to point toward the saddle just ahead. “Jakaie lies just over that ridge, but the demons are there. The Brul will go no further, de-Etienne. They say they are going back to their homes as fast as their mounts will carry them. They complain that nothing was said in the contracts about dealing with demons.”
“What kind of demons?” Lyra asked, trying to make some sense of the Mai’s panic.
“Ice demons!”
“Ah, it is as I fear.” Tyl turned and began talking rapid-fire to his companions, the words flying almost as fast as if he were speaking Mai.
“Not the Tsla too,” Etienne snapped angrily. The first retreating vroqupii were passing the boat now, heading back toward the Barshajagad. He stepped toward the nearest.
“You must stay!” he shouted in Mai. The Brul ignored him. He walked to the next in line. “You can’t leave us here like this. We have a contract, an agreement.” He struggled to recall the words Lyra had used to hold the drovers the night of the strepanong. “What of your commercial honor?”
“To flee from devils is no disgrace,” the Brul announced with dignity, even as he looked back over his shoulder to make certain no demons pursued. And that was all any of them would say.
In less than thirty minutes the last vroqupii had disappeared over the slope behind them, its Brul urging it to greater speed. Etienne and Lyra considered their boat, marooned on a rocky plain, yoked to nothing.
“Ice demons,” Etienne grumbled. “Didn’t they see how easily we drove off the strepanong?”
“These are not strepanong,” Tyl told him. “Thee must see to understand as thee had to see the Topapasirut to understand it. I sorrow for thee, Learned One. As for ourselves, we must go on to aid our brethren in Jakaie.”
“Hey, what about us? Are we supposed to just sit here and wait for the next flood?”
