Which could only mean that Colonel Frost no longer had anything to shoot at.
Dimly, Jack felt his muscles starring to shake, his vision blurring with tears. Uncle Virge, the Essenay, everything he'd known since he was three years old—it couldn't all be gone. Not here. Not now.
He jerked violently as a hand suddenly touched his shoulder. He turned, trying to see through the tears. "Come on," Alison said quietly.
"Where?" Jack asked, his voice quavering. It was a sign of weakness Uncle Virgil had always hated, but Jack no longer cared.
"Into the forest," Alison said. "We have to get under cover."
"Why?"
"Because they'll be coming here next," she said patiently. Her face was tight, and he could see an edge of fear lurking at the corners of her eyes. But her voice was calm and determined. "They'll have tracked the transmission from your comm clip."
"So what?" Jack demanded bitterly.
"So I don't know about you, but I'm not ready to give up just yet," she countered, some of her control starting to crack.
Jack shook his head. "It's finished, Alison," he said quietly. More finished than she would ever know, in fact. Jack, Draycos, the K'da and Shontine—they were all dead.
"Snap out of it," Alison ordered tardy, slapping him none too lightly across the back of his head. "Okay your ship's gone. I'm sorry. But it's a long way from being finished. My friends—remember? My friends are coming to get me."
Jack swiped at his eyes with his sleeve, a cautious flicker of hope stirring inside him. "Okay," he said, taking a deep breath. "I'm all right."
"That's better," Alison said. "Come on."
She got a grip on his arm and started pulling him back toward the path. "Where are we going?" Jack asked.
"I've got camping gear in my travel bags, enough for a couple of weeks if we're careful," she said. "We break it out, pack it for travel, and find someplace to hole up."
"What if they find us?"
"Then we do what we can," she said. "It's still better than being caught out here in the open."
Jack took another deep breath. She was right, of course. But the shock of losing the Essenay still pressed like a strangle cord across his mind. It was hard to think about anything else, even survival.
But Draycos wouldn't be nearly so handicapped. If Jack could just talk with him a moment . . .
They reached the first turn in the path. "Go ahead and start packing," Jack told Alison, waving her ahead as he slowed down. "I need to do something first."
She frowned. "Like what?"
"It'll just take a second," he promised. "Go on; get going."
She hesitated, then nodded. "All right, but hurry. And stay under the trees."
She turned and disappeared around the turn. "Probably thinks I need to cry about the Essenay," he muttered, looking down at Draycos.
"Jack—"
"No, it's all right," Jack cut him off. "The Essenay was just a thing. In the great grand scheme, things aren't important." He swiped at his eyes again. "And Uncle Virge was just a computer program. I did my crying for the real Uncle Virgil a year ago."
"I understand," Draycos said. "However—"
"Jack?" Alison's voice wafted over the bushes. "Come on, move it."
"Coming," Jack called back. "What I need to know right now," he said, lowering his voice again, "is whether or not it's safe for us to stay with Alison."
"Yes," Draycos said without hesitation. "I do not know why, but I believe we can trust her. At least, for the moment."
Which wasn't to say she wasn't working some private agenda of her own, Jack reminded himself. Somewhere along the line, that agenda could easily branch off from his.
Still, there had been that look on her face when Colonel Frost came on the comm. She apparently didn't want to see him any more than Jack did. "Close enough," he told the dragon, starting forward again. "Let's do it."
"Jack—"
"Later," Jack said as he reached the clearing and again threaded his way through the lethargic Erassvas.
Alison was busily stuffing the contents of the two travel bags into a pair of lightweight backpacks when he reached her. "You get your booby trap set?" she asked.
"Booby crap?"
"Isn't that what you stayed behind for?" she asked, frowning up at him briefly before returning to her sorting. "To slow them down a little?"
"I was going to," Jack lied. Clearly, his brain was still only working at half speed. "But I figured the Erassvas might get caught before Frost's thugs got here."
"Probably right," she conceded. "Maybe we can do something further on. Give me a hand."
"Sure." Jack dropped to his knees and started sorting a pack of ration ban into the two bags.
And as he did so, he felt a breath of hot air on the back of his neck. Twisting his head around, he found himself nose to muzzle with the gray-scaled K'da he'd noticed earlier.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Alison snatch her gun from its holster. "Easy," he said quickly. For a long moment the silvery eyes stared into his, as if the K'da was trying to work out who exactly this new creature was and what it was doing in its nice quiet forest. Then, the eyes blinked slowly, and the head turned away, and the K'da wandered off.
Alison let her breath out in a huff. "I sure hope you're right about them being well fed," she said, setting the gun down on the grass beside her.
Jack gazed at the gray dragon as it sniffed along the edge of a fallen tree, an uncomfortable feeling stirring inside him. If Frost was one of Neverlin's partners, he would know all about K'da. Including the fact that Jack had one with him.
Which meant that when Frost and his men saw the Erassvas and their little group of Phookas . . .
"You think we can get this done today?" Alison's voice cut into Jack's musings.
"Sorry." Shaking the thought away, he got back to his packing.
But the thought refused to leave. Frost, Neverlin, the K'da . . . and by the time Jack and Alison had the backpacks sealed, he knew what he had to do.
"Okay," Alison said, hoisting her pack onto her shoulders and bouncing it once to settle it into place. "I thought we'd head west to the foothills we saw from orbit. They looked pretty rocky—there should be some caves in there where we can hole up."
"Sounds good," Jack said, bracing himself. Alison was not going to like this at all. "But we're taking the Phookas with us."
To his mild surprise, she didn't explode in anger or disbelief. She just stood there, one hand gripping her backpack strap, staring at him. "And how exactly do you propose we do that?"
It was, Jack decided, a very good question. Unfortunately, he hadn't yet come up with an answer for it. "I'll go talk to Hren," he said, taking a couple of steps back and turning around. He spotted the big Erassva at the far side of the clearing and headed in that direction.
"Jack, what are you doing?" Draycos asked from his shoulder.
"You want to leave your fellow K'da to the mercenaries?" Jack asked.
"Perhaps they would be better off dead," Draycos muttered, his voice dark.
Jack looked down at him. "You really believe that?"
Draycos sighed, a touch of warm dragon breath across Jack's chest. "No, of course not," he said reluctantly. "What is your plan?"
"Still working on it," Jack said between clenched teeth. Fifty K'da wandering around, plus however many were currently riding their Erassva hosts. Call it sixty or seventy. If he wanted all the K'da, that meant sixty or seventy Erassva hosts as well, all of them bulling their way through the forest. It would leave a trail Frost's men could follow in their sleep.
Unless . . . "Draycos, how long does a K'da have to stay on his host?" he asked.
"He can stay on as long as he wishes," Draycos said, sounding puzzled.
"I know he can," Jack said. "But how long does he have to? An hour? Two hours?"
"No more than an hour to fully recover," Draycos said, suddenly thoughtful. "Perhaps less."
"So that mea
ns each Erassva should be able to carry seven K'da," Jack said, trying to work it out in his still-sluggish mind. "One hour on, six hours off."
"Yes, that may work," Draycos said slowly. "Though it would be safer to include a margin of error."
"Okay, we'll put six with each Erassva then," Jack agreed. "Any idea how many there are?"
"Sixty," Draycos said. "I counted them."
"So we'll need ten Erassvas," Jack concluded. "Unless you think I should take a few of them myself."
"We would still need ten Erassvas," Draycos said. "Besides, I must be free to act at any time."
"Point," Jack agreed with a shiver. Even with a poet-warrior of the K'da on their side, the odds here weren't looking very good.
"Of course, that also assumes we can make the Phookas understand all this," Draycos went on. "That may prove difficult."
"Maybe Hren can help," Jack suggested. "They must have some way of communicating with them."
"Perhaps," Draycos muttered. "Assuming Hren himself understands."
CHAPTER 8
Hren, of course, didn't.
"You want to take our Phookas?" the big Erassva asked, blinking his eyes a half-dozen times as he stared at Jack. "But why?"
"Because there are bad men who want to hurt them," Jack said for the third time. "I want to take them into the forest where they'll be safer."
"But why would anyone want to hurt them?" the big Erassva persisted, still blinking. "They don't hurt anyone."
"I know that," Jack said. "As I said, these are bad men."
One of Hren's hands slipped into his robe and began restlessly stroking his shoulder where the K'da head draped over his skin. "Yet you are a good man?"
"I try," Jack said, feeling sweat collecting beneath his collar. They didn't have time for this. "You have to believe me when I say I care as much about your Phookas as you do."
Hren shook his head slowly. "They cannot go alone," he said, his forehead creased with concentration. "Not even with you."
"Yes, I know," Jack said. "I'll also need ten Erassvas to come with us. Maybe you'd be willing to be one of them?"
For a long moment Hren stood without speaking, still stroking his K'da as he gazed out into space. Then, abruptly, the look of concentration disappeared. "Then we must go at once," he said, hauling his bulk to his feet. "I will gather the other"—he held out his hands, frowning hard at the fingers—"the other nine," he concluded. "We will meet you there." He pointed to the far side of the clearing, where Jack could see the entrance to another path.
"Thank you," Jack said. "One other thing. My friend Alison must not be allowed to see how the Phookas come onto and off of your skin."
"Why not?"
"Because she won't understand," Jack told him. "The whole thing may terrify her, and cause her to abandon us and run off. We can't let that happen, for her sake as well as ours. Can you make sure the Phookas and other Erassvas understand that?"
Hren eyed Jack closely. "You have many secrets, young Jack," he said. "Perhaps too many. Very well. I will make the arrangements."
Alison was still standing where Jack had left her. "Well?"
"He's coming," Jack said, grabbing his pack and hoisting it onto his back. Settling it in place, he walked over to a pair of K'da who were probing with their muzzles at the base of a patch of reedy plants. "And he's bringing a few more of the Erassvas to help."
"To help with what?" she called after him. "Breaking trail?"
"They'll meet us at that path," Jack said, ignoring the comment. The two K'da, he saw now, were busily gobbling down some small lizards they'd flushed from the reeds. "Okay, Phookas," he said soothingly, waving his hands in a sweeping motion that probably looked as ridiculous as it felt. "Time to go. Come on—that way."
The two dragons paused in their meal long enough to bring their heads up and look blankly at him. Then, without budging an inch, they returned their attention to the lizards. "Draycos?" Jack muttered. "You people have a 'mush' command or something?"
"Try pulling gently against their crests, at the point where they descend from the back of the head down the neck," Draycos suggested.
"Okay," Jack said doubtfully. Stepping between the two K'da, he got a hand behind each of their crests. Trying not to think about Uncle Virgil's old warning about never bothering a dog when it was eating, he gingerly applied some pressure.
The two K'da looked up again, and Jack had the distinct feeling that they were mildly surprised at the liberty he was taking with them. But neither seemed inclined to run or, more important, to bite.
"A little harder," Draycos said.
Setting his teeth. Jack did so. This time, to his amazement, the K'da stood upright and began walking in the direction he was pulling. "I'll be fraggled," he muttered, keeping the pressure steady as he settled in between them.
"So that's the technique, huh?" Alison said from behind him.
"It'll do for a start." Jack said, looking around. Unfortunately, it was going to take way too long to get sixty K'da moving this way. "What we need is the head Phooka," he said, searching his memory. Uncle Virgil had often used animal and nature examples and analogies in his training. "The bellwether, I think it's called."
"The one everyone else follows," Alison said, nodding. "Great. Any idea how we figure out which one that is?"
"Give me a minute," Jack said, doing a slow turn to give Draycos a good look. "Mm?" he murmured toward his shoulder.
"There," Draycos murmured, his tongue lifting slightly from Jack's skin to point at a large emerald green K'da with three smaller dragons of different colors following closely behind him. "Try him."
"Let's try him," Jack said, pointing to the green dragon.
"I'll go," Alison volunteered. "You might as well get those two on the path."
She headed off. "Jack, I must speak to you," Draycos said as the boy got his two K'da moving again. "We cannot follow Alison's plan of hiding in the foothills."
"Why not?" Jack asked.
Draycos hesitated. "Because there is a chance the Essenay is still intact and functional."
Jack felt his chest tighten. "Why didn't you say so before?" he demanded.
"I tried, but you gave me no opportunity," the dragon said. "Do you remember my telling Uncle Virge to use the Saga of Fristra?"
Jack nodded. "You called out one of your fancy K'da maneuvers, then said that."
"Correct," Draycos said. "Fristra was a young Shontin who was trapped by enemies at the edge of a grassy cliff. With no other hope of escape, he set fire to the grass, and under cover of the smoke leaped into the river below."
"That last explosion, and then the ship disappeared," Jack said slowly, thinking back. "And he was just about over the river, wasn't he?"
"Yes," Draycos said. "The questions are two. First, could the Essenay survive such a dive into the water? And second, would it be able to conceal itself afterward from the transport's sensors?"
"Yes to the first, I think," Jack said, his pulse pounding with new hope. He should have known Uncle Virge wouldn't have gone so easily. "The Essenay was pretty tough to begin with, and Uncle Virgil put a lot of money into building it up. And I'd say a probable yes to the second, too. You've seen the chameleon hull-wrap in action. It's as close to invisibility as you can get."
"Yes, I know," Draycos said. "My question was whether the hull-wrap would work in water, or whether there would be some sort of bubble effect that would be detected."
"No idea," Jack admitted. They reached the edge of the clearing and he shifted grips on his two K'da to guide them through the opening in the bushes. "As far as I know, Uncle Virgil never tried hiding in water. But remember how busy that river is. All chat churning white water and floating silt would work in his favor."
"Agreed," Draycos said. "Then we are left with only the question of what precisely Uncle Virge will do once Colonel Frost turns his attention to us."
"Well, he won't just charge to the rescue, that's for sure," Jack said, chewing a
t his lower lip. "That Kapstan can probably outgun him four to one. My guess is that he'll stay underwater and try to move downriver."
He looked down at his chest. "Which is why you don't want to hole up in the foothills, isn't it?" he said with sudden understanding. "You want us to make for the river and try to link up with the Essenay there."
"Exactly," Draycos said. "Provided Alison's friends don't arrive first, of course."
"Yeah, well, I'm not going to hold my breath on that one," Jack said grimly, trying to remember the geography they'd seen on their way in. The river cut straight through the middle of the forest, which meant that as long as they kept going north they were bound to hit it.
That was the good news. The bad news was that he also remembered it being a good fifty-mile trek.
Fifty miles of unknown territory and unknown dangers, with sixty barely sentient K'da and ten wide-bodied Erassvas to drag along with them.
"Gangway." Alison's voice came from behind him. Jack turned, and saw her guide the green dragon through the bushes.
And behind them in more or less single file was the rest of the herd.
The herd. Jack felt an unpleasant shiver run through him. Draycos had so often pointed out what a proud and noble people the K'da were. Yet here, through some horrible twist of fate, they'd been reduced to something no better than animals.
Maybe Draycos had been right. Maybe they would be better off dead.
"Well?" Alison prompted.
Jack took a deep breath. "Right," he said. Stepping to the other side of the green dragon, Jack got a grip on the K'da's crest. "Let's go."
The first hundred yards were easy. The Erassvas had obviously been all through this area; the path meandered around in what Jack was starring to realize was typical Erassva fashion. A dozen somewhat narrower trails led off the main path in various directions where one or two of the big aliens had gone exploring for berries and other food.
At the end of that hundred yards, though, the trail came to an abrupt halt at the edge of a twenty-foot cliff. "Well, we needed to head west sometime anyway," Alison said as she and Jack surveyed the drop-off. "Let's go back to that last left-hand bunny trail and see how far it'll take us."