"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."
CHAPTER 13
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."