Dragonback 04 Dragon and Herdsman (13 page)

Ducking around trees and bushes, he ran toward the sound. Rounding
one last stand of reeds, he nearly ran full tilt into Alison as she
stood at the edge of another of the sharp drop-offs. "Watch it—watch
it," she said, putting a hand out across his chest. "This whole ridge
is crumbly."

"What happened?" Jack asked.

"We've lost one," she said grimly, nodding down the cliff. "Take a
look. But be careful."

Holding on to a nearby tree branch, Jack eased up to the edge.
Thirty feet down a steep slope, a dusky red Phooka was lying on his
side, two of his legs thrashing weakly as he struggled to free himself
from a tangle of vines. "Did you see what happened?"

"About what you'd expect," she growled. "Stupid thing wasn't
watching where he was going and walked off the edge of the cliff.
Question is, what do we do about it?"

Jack took a step back and looked around. Draycos was nowhere to be
seen, probably still playing shepherd off to the left. "Let's start by
asking Hren," he said. "Hren? Hren!"

"Yes, young Jack?" the Erassva's voice called from behind him.

"Come here a minute, will you?" Jack called back. "We've got an
injured Phooka on our hands."

The fat alien appeared and stepped to the edge of the drop-off
with what seemed to Jack to be a complete lack of caution. "How sad,"
he said as he peered down. "How very sad."

"Never mind the sadness," Jack said. "How do we help him?"

"Help him?" Hren seemed puzzled. "There is no help for him, young
Jack. Not down there. A few hours and he will be gone." He turned to go.

"Wait a second," Jack said, grabbing his arm as he looked down at
the injured Phooka. The creature's eyes were half-closed, but even in
the fading light Jack could swear he was looking directly at him.
"We've got some rope in these packs."

"We'd need more than just rope," Alison said. "These things are
heavy, and we'd be dragging him against all that vegetation. At the
very least we'd need a block and tackle."

"But we can't just leave him there to die," Jack protested.

Alison shrugged. "I'm open to suggestions."

Jack clenched his hands into fists. There
had
to be a way
to do this. "How about if I go down to him?" he suggested.

"And do what?" Alison asked. "Hold his paw while he dies?"

"I was thinking more about carrying him to safety," Jack growled,
pointing past the drop-off. "That cut goes around that low hill over
there. If I can get through it, I should be able to get around the hill
and meet you a little ways northwest of here."

"And what if you
can't
get through?" Alison countered. "It
wouldn't be safe to leave the rope tied here—we might as well put up a
sign telling the Malison Ring which way we've gone. If you can't get
through, you'll be trapped."

"I'll get through," Jack said stubbornly, pulling off his
backpack. "Just get me down there and take the herd around that hill.
I'll do the rest."

"Jack—"

"And we're wasting time and light," Jack cut her off. "Give me a
hand with this rope."

Alison hissed between her teeth. "Fine. It's your funeral."

The sky had darkened considerably by the time they were ready.
"Just relax and walk your feet down the slope," Alison said, looping
the rope around a thick tree trunk and pulling it taut. "I'll ease you
down."

"Right," Jack said, doing one last check of the makeshift harness
she'd created for him. "Here goes."

Jack had done plenty of climbing in his lifetime, mostly up and
down small buildings he was in the process of robbing. But going down
this way, at the end of a rope he wasn't controlling, was a brand-new
experience.

And definitely not a pleasant one. Muttering under his breath, he
waded backward through the vines, trying hard not to get his feet
tangled. It seemed like forever before he finally came to a halt beside
the injured Phooka. "Easy, fella," Jack soothed the creature as he
climbed awkwardly out of his harness.

The soothing tone wasn't necessary. The Phooka had abandoned even
his weak attempts at freeing himself, and was lying motionlessly on his
side. His eyes were still on Jack, his heaving flanks the only sign of
life.

"Jack?" Alison's voice drifted down toward him.

Jack looked up. In the fading light she wasn't much more than a
silhouette against the gray sky above her. "I'm here," he called back.
"Get going. I'll see you around the other side."

Alison made as if to say something, then seemed to give a
reluctant nod. "Be careful." She pulled up the rope, then disappeared
away from the cliff.

Jack took a deep breath.
When you have a K'da, you're never
really alone
, he told himself. "Draycos?" he called softly.

"I'm here," the familiar voice came. With a rustle of ferns, the
dragon appeared from concealment. "I am not certain this was a wise
move, though."

"Yeah, well, rescuing wayward K'da seems to have become my hobby,"
Jack growled. "Get over here and tell me what's wrong with him."

Draycos's examination was quick but thorough. "His left foreleg is
injured," he reported. "It might be broken, but I think it is merely
sprained. The left hind leg also seems hurt, but not as badly."

"What are his chances for recovery?"

"Very good," Draycos assured him. "I received a similar sprain
during the
Havenseeker
's crash landing. I needed no treatment
to recover."

"Good." Jack held out a hand to the injured Phooka. "Okay, big
fella. Come aboard."

The Phooka didn't move. "Well, come on," Jack said, this time
reaching down and grasping the uninjured foreleg paw. "You want to stay
here all night?"

His only reaction was to try to pull out of Jack's grip. "I don't
think he understands what you want," Draycos said.

"Oh, come
on
," Jack insisted. "He
has
to
understand hosts."

"Yes, but you're not a host," Draycos countered. "At least, not
the kind he has always known."

Jack let his breath out in a huff. He should have guessed it
wouldn't be this easy. "So what now? We carry him?"

"Or we leave him here to die," Draycos said.

"I was afraid of that," Jack said disgustedly, measuring the
fallen Phooka with his eyes. He looked a lot bigger, and a lot heavier,
than he had from thirty feet up. "Let's get to it, then."

"Yes," Draycos said, prodding at the Phooka's side with his
muzzle. "Can you help me get him onto my back?"

"Sorry, pal," Jack said, pushing at the side of Draycos's long
neck. "My job."

"I'm stronger than you are."

"Absolutely," Jack agreed. "You're also the only one who can scout
ahead and clear obstacles out of our way." He lifted his eyebrows.
"Unless you
really
want to try cutting vine meshes with him
balanced across your back."

Draycos's tail curved unhappily. But he was too smart not to see
that Jack was right. "Very well," he said reluctantly. "I will assist
you."

"That's okay." Crouching down, Jack got a grip on the Phooka's two
uninjured legs. Then, bracing himself, he hauled the creature up and
swung him onto his shoulders. "Geez," he muttered as he settled his
load into place. "Why couldn't we have found a colony of baby K'da?"

"In a K'da colony, each generation is conceived and delivered
together, within a two-year period," Draycos said. "This colony must be
in the middle of that cycle."

"I was being rhetorical," Jack said with a sigh. "Don't just stand
there. Find me a path."

By now it was completely dark. Briefly, Jack wondered how Alison
was doing with the rest of the herd, then put her from his mind. She
could take care of herself, and he was likely to have enough troubles
of his own without borrowing any of hers.

In the dusk, from thirty feet up, the footing along the cut had
looked pretty tricky. In full dark, and up close and personal, it was
even worse. Everything around him seemed to be twisted vines, stiff
reeds, and thorny plants that grabbed at his clothing and shoes. Even
with Draycos moving ahead and cutting the worst of it from his path, it
was pretty slow going.

The limp Phooka balanced across his shoulders didn't make it any
easier.

"At least we don't have anyone sniping at us," Jack puffed after
fighting his way through a particularly unsociable row of reeds.
"That's something, anyway."

"True," Draycos said. "And I find that fact ominous. The comm clip
trick should not have fooled them nearly this long."

"Not unless they're
really
stupid," Jack admitted. "Maybe
they decided to call it quits for the night."

"I don't know why they would," Draycos said. "They must certainly
have equipment for seeing in the darkness. The disadvantage would be
ours."

"Mine and Alison's, maybe, but not yours," Jack pointed out. "You
do a lot better in the dark than we do. And personally, if I were them,
I'd be a little leery about going up against a K'da poet-warrior at
night."

"Perhaps," Draycos said, slashing through yet another stand of
reeds. "We shall see when we rejoin the . . ." He trailed off.

"The herd?" Jack suggested quietly.

There was a sharp swishing noise through the reeds as Draycos
twitched his tail. "I thought I could become used to the idea," the
dragon said, a deep sadness in his voice. "But I cannot. I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for," Jack assured him. "I've never run into
any primitive humans myself, but there are supposed to be a few tribes
of them still scattered through Earth's denser jungles. I'd probably be
just as weirded out if I ran into one of them."

There was a moment of silence, and Jack winced to himself. The
situations weren't really the same, and they both knew it. "At any
rate, I appreciate all you are doing for them," Draycos said. "Taking
their burden upon yourself. Quite literally, in this case."

"No problem," Jack said. "Besides, I was herded around pretty much
the same way back in the Whinyard's Edge. About time I got to see how
the other side lives."

"I trust it is to your liking?"

Jack hunched forward and got a fresh grip on his passenger. "Just
great," he said, straightening up again and flinching as the leaves of
a low-hanging branch brushed against his forehead. "I could do this all
night."

"Let us hope you won't have to."

They continued on in silence. The ground didn't get any easier to
navigate, but as his night vision slowly improved Jack began to get the
knack of seeing and deciphering the various shades of gray around him.
Draycos's gold scales appeared almost luminous in the faint starlight,
providing him with a fairly clear view of the path the dragon was
carving out.

Jack's improved vision undoubtedly saved him from a few stumbles
over the next hour of travel. Unfortunately, it didn't do anything to
help with the weight slowly crushing his shoulders.

But there was something else about his passenger, a growing
feeling that Jack couldn't quite put his finger on. A kind of
restlessness, along with an almost twitching that he couldn't exactly
feel but somehow knew was there.

At first he assumed it had to do with the Phooka's double leg
sprain. But adjusting his grip and trying to walk more smoothly didn't
seem to affect the restlessness. The more he tried to ease the Phooka's
ride, in fact, the more twitchy he became.

Jack had just decided it was time to ask Draycos about it when the
Phooka's weight suddenly vanished. "Yowp!" Jack gasped.

"What?" Draycos demanded, twisting around.

"Sorry, sorry—I was just startled," Jack hastened to assure him,
squirming a little as his former passenger twisted himself into place
around Jack's chest, back, and legs. "I guess he decided he could use
me as a host, after all."

"He is on you?" With a noisy bound, Draycos landed at Jack's side,
his forepaws slipping into the gap in Jack's shirt. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Jack said, pushing the probing forepaws away. "Cut it
out, will you? That tickles."

"I was merely concerned," Draycos said, reluctantly pulling back.

"I'm fine," Jack repeated, straightening his shirt collar. "And
this is our chance to make some decent time. Let's get moving."

And with the injured animal now riding Jack's skin like a good
K'da should, the trip did indeed become easier. There were still a few
patches of dense vegetation that Draycos had to cut through, but
everywhere else Jack was able to plow his way through on his own.

It took them another half hour to get around the hill Jack had
pointed out to Alison. On the far side was a much gentler slope, and
twenty minutes later they were back to the level they'd been on when
the Phooka had fallen off the ridge. "There we go," Jack murmured,
breathing hard. "Piece of cake."

"You will someday have to cook for me this cake you often speak
of," Draycos said dryly. "Come—we must find Alison and the others."

"Go ahead," Jack said, pushing aside the reeds at the base of a
thick tree and sitting down against the trunk. "I'll wait here."

"That may be dangerous," Draycos warned. "There are many night
creatures around. Some are undoubtedly predators."

"I've got my tangler," Jack reminded him, pulling out the weapon
and setting it on his lap. "I just need to rest for a few minutes."

"Then I will wait with you," Draycos said. "When you're ready,
we'll go together."

"Look, just go, all right?" Jack said, starting to feel annoyed.
"If you want to know the truth, I'm more worried about Alison than I am
about me. Anyway, they can't be
that
far ahead of us. Just find
them, then come back and get me."

"But—"

Abruptly, Draycos broke off, and in the darkness Jack saw his
tongue flicking rapidly in and out of his mouth. "What is it?" he
whispered.