"I know," Langston said, his voice grim. "But pulling it out will just make it worse." He held up one of the other Golvin arrows. "See this wide arrowhead? You pull it out, and it'll just tear more of the flesh and muscle. Besides, it's helping stanch the blood right now."
Jack looked down at Draycos. His glowing green eyes were half-closed, the muscles in his neck working with pain. "What if it's poisoned?"
"I don't think it is," Langston said. "These look like hunting or fishing arrows. There's no reason to poison those."
He looked over his shoulder. "But if we don't get out of here, and fast, it's not going to matter much. They're on the move."
"So we need to get to the aircar." Reaching down, Jack took one of Draycos's paws in his hand. "Draycos? Can you get aboard?"
The K'da blinked, turning his head as if noticing Jack for the first time. "Jack?" he croaked.
"The aircar's a bust," Langston said tightly. "They're on to us. Our only chance is to go to ground for a while." He thrust two Golvin bows at Jack. "Take these. I'll get your friend."
Jack brushed the bows aside. "I'll do it," he said. "Draycos? Come on, symby. You can do it."
The green eyes blinked, and Jack could see the K'da struggling to focus his thoughts through the agony. His paw shifted in Jack's grip.
And to Jack's relief he slid up the sleeve onto Jack's arm.
Langston stuttered out a startled curse. "Holy—Where did he—?"
"He's gone two-dimensional and is riding on my skin," Jack said. "It's a symbiotic thing—I'll explain later." He started to get up.
And froze in horror. Lying on the ground in front of him was the arrow that had been in Draycos's side. The arrowhead and first inch of the shaft were black with K'da blood. "It's not stanching the blood now," he heard himself say. "Oh, no. No."
"Come on." Langston grabbed his arm and hauled him to his feet. "We've got to hide."
They were halfway up the bridge before Jack's mind cleared enough to realize where they were going. "Wait a minute—this is no good," he protested, trying to pull out of Langston's grip. "It's the first place they'll look for us."
"That's why we're not going to be here," Langston countered, pulling harder on Jack's arm. In his other hand, Jack saw, he still had the two Golvin bows. "We're going up the air shaft to my old prison."
"That won't work either," Jack insisted as they brushed through the streamers into the apartment. "I can't climb up there. Even if I could, they must have blocked that hole by now."
"I don't think so," Langston said, crossing to the light shaft and looking up. "I think all they found was my decoy."
"Your what?"
"A little hole I dug and then camouflaged about as badly as I could without being too obvious about it," Langston explained. "In case you hadn't noticed, these people aren't the brightest stars in the galaxy. You have any food in here?"
"There's meat and fruit in the refrigerator."
"Get it," Langston ordered. "No telling how long we'll be up there."
Numbly, Jack obeyed, stuffing as much as he could into his Judge-Paladin hat. "Ready," he said, coming back to the light shaft as he tucked the hat inside his shirt.
"Get in," Langston said, pointing to the shaft. "Sitting up; back against the left side."
Jack did so. The shaft was a little too narrow for him to stretch all the way out, forcing him to bend his knees. Even through his shirt he could feel the roughness of the wall, and wondered uneasily how that was going to affect Draycos.
"Now take this." Langston thrust one of the bows into the opening. "Turn it with the bow part up and the bowstring down and wedge the ends against the walls to your right and left. You probably want it about a foot in front of you and a foot or two above your head."
The bow, like Jack himself, was a little large for the opening. Pulling on the bowstring to compress the wood, he was able to get it in position. "Okay."
"Here's what you're going to do," Langston said. "You're going to pull yourself up with the bow while you walk your feet up the other side. Then you'll brace your back against the wall, move the bow up a couple more feet, and repeat. It's basically a climber's rock chimney technique, only with the bow to help."
Jack tried it. The method was awkward, but it seemed simple enough. "Be sure to hold the bow near the ends when you're pulling yourself up or it might flip over on you," Langston said, peering in at him. "Keep going—I'll be right behind you."
Clenching his teeth, Jack headed up.
They'd gone perhaps thirty feet, and Jack's arms were starting to tremble, when Langston whispered a quick warning.
Someone was moving around in the apartment below.
Jack froze, gripping the bow as he pressed his back and feet against the walls. His mind flashed back to that first encounter with the Golvins back at the spaceport, when they'd been able to sniff out his parentage. If one of them thought to stick his nose into the light shaft, it would be all over.
Or maybe not. The air was moving up the shaft from below, he noticed now, carrying his and Langston's scents upward with it. Probably something to do with the stone having absorbed sunlight all day and still giving some of that heat back to the air inside the apartments. A minute later, the footsteps fell silent, and he heard Golvin voices calling faintly from outside the apartment. "Go," Langston whispered.
Jack resumed climbing. His arms and legs were beginning to ache, his back feeling itchy and sore and cold where it pressed against the stone.
But none of that mattered. All he could think about was Draycos, stretched across his skin.
Maybe dying.
The word terrified him. But he couldn't put it out of his mind. Over and over as he climbed he mentally called the K'da's name. But there was no answer.
And he was lying so still against Jack's skin. So very, very still.
"Jack?" Langston called softly.
Jack started out of a haze of ache and fear and guilt. "What?" he whispered.
"We're here."
Jack blinked the tears out of his eyes. To his surprise, he saw that the stone wall to his right had opened up onto a rough-hewn hole. "How do I get in?"
"First, make sure it's really still open," Langston said. "Reach in and give the far side a push."
Jack shifted his grip on the bow and stretched a hand into the hole. His fingers touched something slightly stretchy and gave it a push.
It popped out, sending a rush of warm air into his face. "Bless their simple little minds," Langston murmured. "Now put your feet in and just slide yourself through."
A minute later Jack was sprawled on the apartment floor, his arms and legs trembling with released strain. He barely noticed as Langston came in and crossed to the door. The other stood there a moment, and then came back. "So far, so good," he said, squatting down beside Jack. "How's your friend?"
"I don't know," Jack said, brushing at his shoulder. Did the skin where Draycos was lying feel hot? "Draycos?"
There was no answer. "I don't know what the floos is going on with this," Langston said. "But however this works, that wound is probably bleeding like crazy. We've got to get a look at it."
Jack closed his eyes. Draycos, he thought urgently as he pushed up his sleeve. We need to look at your wound. We need you to come off. Can you do that?
Abruptly, the K'da was there, pouring off Jack's arm more like a thick liquid than a living being. He collapsed onto the stone floor and lay there in a broken heap, not moving.
His entire side was covered in black blood.
"Oh, no," Jack breathed, his heart seizing up as he bent over his friend's still form.
"Here," Langston said, thrusting a wad of cloth into Jack's hands. Jack looked up, realizing only then that the other had pulled his jumpsuit half off and given Jack his flight shirt. "Soak it in the sink over there," Langston told him as he knelt down beside Draycos. "We need to get some of the blood off and find out how bad it is."