Wolf's Blood (55 page)

“I agree,” she said, “especially using those Harjeedian has mentioned.”

Harjeedian had remained standing, so Derian asked him. “Something else?”

“I thought I would remind you that while I am not as skilled as Doctor Zebel in medical matters, I do have some solid training in that area. I would like to offer my services in teaching elementary medical techniques, and offer myself to Doctor Zebel as an assistant.”

Derian blinked in surprise. As an aridisdu and. quite frankly, as one of the conquerors, Harjeedian had a great deal of status among the Nexus Island community. To have him publicly offer to subordinate himself to one of the conquered in any capacity was a tremendous gesture, and one that should humble any number of those who might even now be contemplating how to jockey for status.

“Thank you, Harjeedian,” Derian said. “After this meeting, why don’t you speak with Doctor Zebel about how to best arrange your schedules.”

Verul, who had been one of the first Nexans Derian had met, back even before Derian had known that there were Nexus Islands, now signaled for attention. Once the ruddy-skinned, fair-haired man had been a bodyguard, equal to Skea in every way. These days he walked with a crutch much of the time, lamed in a fight with Firekeeper. That the wolf-woman had disabled him without taking his life had not made Verul exactly grateful to her. Instead, he resented her reputation among the Nexans, and never missed an opportunity to cast doubt on her prowess.

“I was wondering if anything had been heard from Firekeeper,” he said. “We all know she and Blind Seer left here to return to their homeland. I know she said she was going to scout for some information that might enable us to prevent querinalo from attacking any newcomers, but it seems to me she has been gone for quite a long time.”

“She’s only been gone a bit over a moonspan,” Derian protested.

“Still, didn’t she take a gate right to where she needed to go?” Verul said.

His tone was guileless and the straight, square lines of his face innocent of malice, but Derian hoped no one was fooled. Probably some did share his curiosity, though. Derian suspected that many of the Nexans had no real idea what was involved in traveling long distances. The gates had spoiled them for that, for even though the gates did not remove all need for travel, they did tend to eliminate awkward, time-consuming tasks like crossing mountain ranges.

Derian schooled his voice to patience. “The gate did not take her ‘right where she needed to go.’ It took her to a city east of the mountains she would need to cross to reach her destination. Even if she found a cure almost instantly and returned that minute. I doubt she could be to us for a moonspan or more.”

“But you are certain she will return,” Verul said.

“Absolutely,” Derian replied.

But he wondered, even as the meeting turned to other matters, if when Firekeeper did return would there be anyone to open the gate for her, and if the gate did open, would friends or enemies wait on the other side.

“I’VE TOUCHED ISENDE,” the Meddler reported with some triumph. “She spoke to Derian, and together they have gone to Truth. The Nexus Islands will not face invasion unwarned.”

Firekeeper stretched, paws turning into hands as she awoke from dreams into that strange place wherein the Meddler drew her for their conversations. They were sitting on what might be very thick green moss or rather dense, tinted clouds. The light was indirect, and the mood deceptively restful. Deceptive because although Firekeeper knew her body continued to steep, this interlude would tire her as if she had not slept at all.

“I have had.” she said. “a very long and busy day. We have taken one of Virim’s pack, and learned that this pack is not such a pack as we had thought. Now we must find a way to turn this to our advantage.”

The Meddler. fully human in this vision, perhaps to match her, nodded. Disappointment touched the shape of his eyes, and Firekeeper thought that he was unhappy that she had not praised him. She considered. decided that he had done something admirable, and that she would be rude to withhold thanks.

“And from what you say, you have had some busy times since last we spoke,” she went on. “I am glad you managed to reach Isende. The Nexus Islands should not go unwarned. I only hope that they can hold until Blind Seer and I can return.”

“Do you really think two of you would make such a difference?” the Meddler said.

“We would not be two alone,” Firekeeper said, “or not for long, not if we could be certain querinalo would not harm those we might convince to help us. That would certainly make a difference.”

“Thinking ahead,” the Meddler said, and Firekeeper truly could not tell whether she heard mockery or approval in his voice.

“What of it?” she challenged. “Wolves may not be squirrels, but still they know that winter is coming.”

“Meaning, I suppose,” the Meddler said, “that just because wolves don’t store food in advance to get them through the thin months, doesn’t mean that they are incapable of advanced preparation.”

“That’s what I said,” Firekeeper retorted.

An odd vision touched her then. She was certain it had been generated by her own imagination, not created by the Meddler.

She saw a world very like the one in which she now lived, only in this world Royal Beasts did not live separately from humans, but rather employed them to do tasks for them. The situation was not at all like that in Liglim, where the relationship between humans and Beasts was religious in nature, but more like the way humans dealt with humans in places like Hawk Haven or New Kelvin.

In her imagination she saw a wolf dragging a freshly slain deer to a human’s house. A human came out and examined the deer, exclaiming in awe and appreciation. Then he hung the carcass from a tree, speaking to the wolf as he went about the process of draining the blood and removing the organs as humans did before preparing the meat. Although the wolf could not speak the human’s language, it had learned a series of signs that enabled simple communication. Through these an agreement was reached.

The human would keep the deer’s hide and some of the organs and bones. The wolf would immediately consume other organs, and enjoy the marrow in some of the thicker bones. The human would then prepare the meat, drying a portion of it and holding it until the wolf returned for it.

Firekeeper thought this would be quite a mutually beneficial situation. Humans were not nearly as good hunters as wolves. Wolves could not preserve food in the fat times for the thin. Yet this would be a different relationship from those that existed between humans and their dogs. For one, the wolf would remain in the wilds. For another, neither would claim mastery over the other. It would be a business partnership, nothing more.

The Meddler looked at her, his amber eyes warm with affection.

“You’re dreaming something.” he said. “I can’t read the details, but I can almost taste them. You’re seeing the world inside out and upside down. You do that more than you ever realize. It’s one of the things I like about you.”

Firekeeper grew guarded. She didn’t much like this talk of being able to taste her dreams. What else might the Meddler be able to do? What other of her dreams might he know?

“Don’t worry,” the Meddler said. “Don’t you wolves have a saying: ‘Like knows like best?”

Firekeeper nodded.

“We’re alike, you and I,” the Meddler said. “Meddlers see the world in different ways. too, and often try and make changes.”

“You are the Meddler.” Firekeeper prowled. “Not I.”

“I am a Meddler.” the Meddler said. “I am not the only one. None of those stories Plik and Harjeedian told that colored your view of me so unfairly were about things I personally did. I’d like to think I am capable of thinking about the ramifications of my actions.”

“Like with Melina,” Firekeeper said. “You think so well that now Citrine is missing a finger, and Peace is dying more quickly as the Dragon drinks his life.”

The Meddler shrugged. “Melina proved a bit more volatile than I had imagined, but then I was hardly in the best position to research her life and inclinations, now, was I?”

“But you went ahead anyhow,” Firekeeper said, “playing games with her and with Dantarahma and with Truth and with others, treating them all as if they really were those little crystal pieces that you carved.”

“I’ve done my best to make amends,” the Meddler said. “Didn’t I help you when you went after Isende and Tiniel? Haven’t I helped you since?”

“And I wonder,” Firekeeper said, “why you have done this. Not the helping us with Isende and Tiniel; they were as much your problem as they were ours. But the help you have given us since, the prompting us to find a cure for querinalo and helping us learn about Virim. I do wonder.”

The Meddler looked hurt and indignant.

“Can’t you believe that I simply wish to help you?”

Firekeeper shook her head. “Why would you wish to do that?”

“Perhaps,” the Meddler said, leaning closer to her and extending one hand as if he would stroke her cheek, “I like you. I do, you know, and not just because you’re more of a Meddler than you care to admit. You’re a very dynamic individual. When a man has lived as long as I have, an interesting personality is more beautiful than those physical qualities that fade and change all too rapidly in any case.”

Firekeeper jerked back from the proffered caress, but her face burned as she remembered the one time the Meddler had kissed her. That kiss had been very different from the friendly pecks she had given to her friends, different from her kissing Blind Seer, for although the wolf might lick her in return, there was none of that interesting sensation as lip met lip and tongue touched tongue.

For a moment, just a moment, Firekeeper thought about inviting the Meddler close again. After all, this was just a dream. In a way it wasn’t real at all, and so what would be the harm?

The Meddler seemed aware of her shift in mood, and leaned toward her again. His hand stroked her cheek lightly, tracing the line of her cheekbone, the silken curve of her eyebrow, trailing down to touch her lip.

Firekeeper trembled, realizing that this was the closest to human touch she could clearly remember. She must have been touched by her human parents, but she remembered her time with them only in dreams.

Oh, Derian had dressed and undressed her—but she had been indifferent to him as a male. He had been the one to grow embarrassed, especially as he grew to know her as a female who, to him, was human. Firekeeper’s focus had been on the awkwardness of clothing. Doc had handled her as well, but always in a medical context.

This sensation of fingers against skin, touching for no reason but for the pleasure of touch, was heady, intoxicating as the time she had shared in a feast of overripe berries with some birds and become so dizzy that she had never touched the like again.

In that dizziness she started to lean toward the Meddler and felt him leaning toward her. In a moment his lips would touch hers, and they were so close to the soft greenness of the mossy ground. She could relax then, relax into warm, muscular arms, feeling skin touch skin, not fur. She could …

Firekeeper jerked back from the Meddler’s touch, leaping back from him as quick as thought. Had she possessed fur, her hackles would have bristled. Had she possessed fangs, she would have bared them. As it was, she merely balanced on the balls of her feet, ready to run if the Meddler should come closer.

He, however, only looked up at her from where he had been, seated on the soft green, his hand where he had extended it to lightly touch her face.

“Second thoughts?” he asked with almost friendly mockery. “Pity. It was getting quite diverting. I don’t think you can lose your virginity in a dream, but we could find out.”

Firekeeper glowered at him.

“Maybe, but I have nothing to lose that I would wish for you to find. I remembered, just remembered, how that one kiss gave you this link to me. I think that is enough, more than enough.”

“The choice is yours, Lady Firekeeper,” the Meddler said. “When you consider our past encounters, I think you will realize I have never forced anything on you but an awareness of my presence.”

Firekeeper was too light-headed to debate, but a new thought came to her and she forced herself to focus, pursuing it as if it was a fat meal and she unfed for days. She cornered the idea and trapped it, and when she had examined it closely she turned and looked at the Meddler through narrowed eyes.

“I have thought of a reason,” she said, “that you might want to be so helpful to us.”

“Do you want to share it with me.” he asked, “or will you leave it to fester in your heart?”

Firekeeper considered. Her first thought had been to hold the idea, to share it with Blind Seer when she awoke, but there was no reason she could not confront the Meddler and still share her insight with Blind Seer.

“I have been trying to think,” she began, “why you are helping us and could come to no thought but that you were being generous. Even in the tales that Plik and Harjeedian told, the Meddler had his share of generosity.”

“Thank you for that, at least,” the Meddler said, sardonically. “But I take it that you have come up with a reason for me to assist you that does not involve my being generous.”

Firekeeper ignored that jab, and continued as if he had not spoken.

“I just realized that I had been asking the wrong question. The question was not why would you help us, but What might you gain from what we are doing?’”

The Meddler’s amber eyes widened slightly, as if in carefully hidden surprise, but he said nothing to either confirm or deny Firekeeper’s suspicion. Still, she felt she was on the right track and spoke more quickly, with greater confidence.

“Once I asked myself that, then I began to understand. You showed me why we could not remain ignorant of the source of querinalo. Your reasoning was good, and as events have developed, quite accurate. So accurate, in fact, that I wonder if you might not have seen the first seeds of this invasion being planted, and decided to turn them to your benefit. After all, if there was indeed an invasion, we would pursue the cure for querinalo all the more stringently.