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matted raft were four of the sea cougars who rode the currents to shore.
Wren shaded his eyes from the wind and got a noseful of spray. "Hell of a way to travel." He had to raise
his voice over the wind. "You'd think a cat would drown on one of those things."
She shrugged. "They're stable as an iceberg."
"Safe as mother's milk, huh?"
"Even if the ride is rough, some of those islands are a hun-dred years old. They're woven as tightly as
weathercloth. The only real danger is when a cat picks a weedis that isn't old enough to be fully grown
together. If the branch structures are weak, the island can break apart."
"The bloom doesn't help either."
"No," she agreed flatly.
"You think those four are going to make it?"
She was silent. Wren glanced at her and, even in the gloom, caught the worry in her eyes. He followed
her gaze. The deep-ening troughs flung the raft up and down like a bucking horse. Long, dark streamers
of green floated behind the island. Jellies hung from the streamers, curling their blue-white tendrils around
the flat, slimy vines stubbornly pumping and pulling away to take their spoils down.
"The weedis is thin on one end," she said reluctantly. "Not many seedpods to keep it floating."
"Bet it'll split before it even hits the platform."
"That would be best," she returned slowly.
He raised his eyebrows. "You want it to break apart? You of all people can't possibly want the cats to
drown?"
"Of course not," she said sharply. "But if an island breaks up instead of holding together, the loose debris
can go down, and the rest of the raft stays on top including the cats. If the thin part doesn't break off,
the jellies can latch on to that sec-tion and drag it under. The whole island cats and all will sink. It's
like a sleeve on a jacket: You pull the sleeve, you get the jacket, too."
He studied the raft for a moment. "I don't think your sargies will make it."
She felt her stomach tighten. The weedis was beginning to tear into strips even as she watched. Already
the mother was leading her cubs away from the thinning end. The urgency of the female's snarling caught
at Tsia's mind. Tentatively, then with more focus, Tsia opened her gate to the cat. There was an instant in
which the cougar hissed; then the sargie seemed to suck at her strength. Tsia paid her will out like a
lifeline. A moment later, the female leaped the growing water chasm eas-ily, then bounded carefully
through the growth till she found a solid nest.
Tsia could distinguish the thinner energies of the cubs now, and she fed her strength to them in turn. When
the first cub leaped across the chasm, Tsia's own feet tightened in her boots. The second cub jumped
while the third one pawed ner-vously at the thinning edge of the raft. The waves surged. The leaping cub
landed in the sea with a clumsy splash. Its mental shout was a frigid shock in Tsia's mind. She leaped
forward, and only Wren's startled reflexes kept her from jumping out into the sea.
"Dammit, Feather!" He jerked her away from the edge. He stared at the sea, then her. "Don't do anything
stupid it's not in your contract."
She barely heard him. Her attention was with the cub who clawed his way through the brash, then up and
out of the wa-ter. A massive, foam-streaked crest of water split the weedis apart. The last cub was left
behind.
On the thicker island, the two others plunged across to the inner, safer places, but the mother did not
abandon the edge. She paced while the sea-softened raft disintegrated beneath her weight, and yowled
to her third cub. Tsia took a step and was brought up short by Wren's thick hands closing tightly on her
arms. She blinked and twisted.
"Uh-uh, Feather," Wren said harshly. "Nothing stupid, re-member?"
"The sargie "
"The cats are fine. They made the island."
"No," she protested. "One cub is left behind."
He shrugged, but did not release her arms. "They're a hun-dred meters away. There's nothing you can do
about it."
"There has to be. You know my link. That's a cougar down there, not a fish or rat or bird."
"It's too far away, Feather. Let it go."
"It'll drown in the chop& "
Wren shook her so hard her teeth rattled. "The cats aren't your responsibility. They won their
independence: the Landing
Pact remember? They earned their rights and freedoms, and now they have to live with them."
Her hands dug into his blunter. "The Landing Pact also states a guide's obligation to protect them. To
help them in re-turn for their service to the world."
"Only if they call you."
"They did!" she snarled. "They called me clearly, and took my strength through the gate. They want
help."
"They took your strength?"
"I helped them cross the water."
He shook his head. "It doesn't matter. The sargies have been migrating for two centuries between the
islands and the shore. Every year, some of them don't make it. If this cub dies, that isn't your fault. That's
just life." He stared her down. "And not everyone gets to have one."
The female cougar snarled in Tsia's mind; she ground her teeth together. Wren waited, his hands still
gripping her arms. Then the cub cried again, and its sharp mental voice pierced her head. Tsia cried out.
"Wren, I can't stand it." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]