“Would you like to come with us, Tam?” Gabria asked.
“She can’t talk,” the woman cut in.
“Can’t or won’t?” Piers inquired.
The clanswoman shrugged. “She hasn’t spoken since her father died five years ago. My husband says she’s a weakling.”
Gabria gently pushed a strand of dark hair away from Tam’s eyes. “Did your husband also say how she got this?” She turned the little girl’s head toward the firelight and pointed to a large, purplish bruise on her temple.
The woman sidled back, her expression a mixture of fear and sadness, and said, “That’s why you’ve got to take her. She won’t last much longer with me.”
“I don’t know how safe she’ll be with us,” Gabria said.
“At least she’ll have a chance,” the woman pleaded. “Tam’s your kind. You’ll take care of her. I can’t!” Before anyone could stop her, she tossed a small bundle on the ground, turned, and fled into the darkness.
The warriors started after her, but Athlone stopped them.
“Let her go.” They came back, sheathing their weapons.
Khan’di, his heavy face frowning, came forward. “Lord Athlone, I must protest. This is no journey for a child. We can’t lose any more time by dragging her along.” Piers knelt beside Tam and ran his long fingers over the bruise on her head. “She seems healthy, if undernourished. She should be able to stand the journey.”
“Besides, we can’t just leave her here,” Sayyed said.
“Or take her back to Lord Caurus,” Keth added.
Athlone quirked an eyebrow at the sudden rush to defend this little girl. He agreed with Khan’di’s protest, but at the moment, they did not have much choice. “She’ll have to go,” he decided. “The Hunnuli can look after her, and we can spare enough food for one more small mouth.”
Gabria smiled at Athlone gratefully and, for a moment, the pain in his heart receded under the warmth of her relief and pleasure.
Tam had not budged during the departure of her aunt or the exchange between the men. She stood as if rooted to the ground, too frightened to move. Gabria was surprised by her total silence. The little girl did not cry or speak or even whisper. She just stayed in the place where her aunt had left her and Stared fixedly at the sorceress in front of her. Gabria slowly held out her wrist where the jewel splinter glowed red under her skin.
“Tam,” she said softly. “I am Gabria. I am a magic-wielder, too.”
Tam did not respond. Her small face was pale under the dirt, and her hands were clenched at her sides.
The sorceress cast a glance at the men. Only Piers, Athlone, and Sayyed could see what she was doing, so she picked up a stone the size of her fist. She smiled at Tam. “Watch.” The months of practice in the stone temple came to Gabria’s aid, and with Just a single word, she transformed the stone into a perfect sweetplum.
Tam’s eyes grew huge. The men around her started in surprise.
“How did you do that?” Sayyed asked eagerly.
Gabria looked up at Athlone, the hint of a smile in her eyes. “Practice.” She pressed the plum into Tam’s hand and watched as the girl tasted it.
Tam tried a tentative bite, and her body seemed to relax a little. Plum juice ran down her chin as she devoured the fruit.
Lord Athlone said nothing at first. He was not sure what he should say about Gabria’s display of sorcery. To be honest with himself, he had to admit her skill at changing the stone to a fruit intrigued him. It looked so simple, so useful. He watched Tam wipe her hands on her tattered skirt and, for the first time, the chief smiled at her. “Now that you have her attention,” he said to Gabria, “why don’t you give her a real meal. She looks famished.”
Tam suddenly nodded eagerly, and she held out her hands imploringly.
Piers smiled. “There’s certainly nothing wrong with her hearing.”
All at once, Tam’s eyes widened. Whirling around, she put her fingers to her lips and blew a piercing whistle. To everyone’s surprise, a dog barked far down the valley. Gabria’s mouth opened, and Athlone and Sayyed started in disbelief.
“Did you hear that?” Gabria gasped incredulously.
Bregan glanced around. “What? The dog?”
“I thought I heard—” She stopped.
“What?” Piers asked, puzzled.
The dog barked again, closer this time, and Gabria, Athlone, and Sayyed heard the words in their heads. Tam! Tam! I’m coming. I am free, and I am coming!
Suddenly the Hunnuli neighed, and a huge, mottled dog charged into the firelight, barking with frantic joy. A frayed rope dangled from his neck. He leaped on Tam and knocked her flat, licking her and whining with delight. The girl hugged him fiercely.
Gabria stared at the dog in amazement. “I can understand him!”
“The dog?” Khan’di frowned.
“Yes!” Sayyed agreed excitedly. “He is barking, but in my head I can hear his meaning.”
Piers said, “Well, I don’t.”
“I do,” Athlone said, astonished. He sank back down to his seat.
Khan’di crossed his arms. “That’s ridiculous. It’s just a dog. A scruffy looking one at that.”
“It’s a Tesser,” Bregan told him. “A hunting dog from the northern forests. The Murjik breed them. These dogs are white in the winter and brown in the summer. He’s shedding.”
“Tesser or not, it’s still a dog and dogs do not talk,” Khan’di insisted.
Gabria shook her head. “No, he doesn’t talk as we do, but something is translating his voice to us. I don’t understand it. I’ve never heard of anything like this.”
The dog in question sat down beside Tam and wagged his plumed tail. His lips pulled back in a wolfish grin. Carefully, Gabria held out her hand to let the dog sniff it. He woofed.
Hello, the magic-wielders heard. I am Treader.
“Treader,” Gabria repeated in wonder.
Tam’s pale face lit with a brilliant smile as if someone had just discovered her most wonderful achievement. Silently she tapped her chest then touched the dog.
“Ah,” Gabria muttered, studying the child and the dog together.
Athlone caught her thought. “Tam did it?”
“She must have. Somehow she has put a spell on him to translate his voice, and because she used magic. . .”
“We can understand him, too,” Sayyed finished.
“So why can’t we hear this remarkable dog?” Khan’di asked.
“Tam’s magic must be limited,” Gabria answered. “Her spell was probably intended to translate Treader’s voice only to a magic-wielder. She didn’t know she was going to meet more of us.” Gabria fingered the frayed end of the rope tied to the dog’s collar. “I wonder whose dog it is?”
Secen said with a smirk. “Lord Caurus’s, maybe?”
Tam shook her head and pointed to herself.
“I doubt it’s hers,” Bregan remarked. “It’s a valuable dog. Should we take it back?”
At that, Tam leaped to her feet and flung herself on the dog’s shoulder. Treader rose, barking furiously.
Athlone smiled lopsidedly. “Ah, no. He says he goes with Tam whether we like it or not. Besides, we don’t have the time to go back.”
“Think they’ll come looking for it?” Sayyed asked.
The chieftain shrugged. He was exhausted again and ready for his blankets. “Probably not tonight,” he muttered. “And we’ll be leaving at dawn.” As Piers came to help him, he waved a hand at Tam. “Feed the child.” In a moment, he sank into his rough bed with deep relief and was asleep before the others returned to the fire.
Khan’di grumbled something about troublesome children and retired to his tent. The rest of the group gathered around the fire and brought out the remains of their meal. The Hunnuli foal tagged along.
Sayyed grinned as he watched Tam dive into a bowl heaped high with bread, meat, and cheese. “She’s so small. Where is she putting it all?”
“She acts as if she hasn’t eaten in days,” Valar said.
Bregan nodded. “Maybe she hasn’t. She certainly doesn’t look well cared for.”