On the dais, Red Unat fluffed his feathers and shook his wings, then stood looking down at the mass of otters crowded into the cave. It was a moonlight meeting, and moonlight shone across his dark, mottled feathers, silhouetted against Thakkur’s whiteness and against the pearly gleam of the mosaicked walls. The crowd of otters covered the floor of the cave in a great dark mass, and only the gleam of their eyes was clear. Though to the owl’s sight, Teb thought, every detail of nose and whisker and claw would be visible. The owl spoke of the wars in the north, and it was not cheering news, for Quazelzeg was still moving south, slowly destroying everything in his path, food and shelter and herds.
“He has conquered the Seven Islands and enslaved the fishing villages of Thappan and destroyed the fishing boats—the hydrus did that in one raging night of terror. He has taken the mines at Neiwan. They are working women and children in the mines to make coal for Quazelzeg’s forges and driving the men hitched to plows, instead of oxen. They ate the oxen and commandeered every horse and pack pony. They are raping the land, and already the conquered are starving. They will come down into Windthorst to deal with Ebis the Black soon enough. And,” said the owl, turning to stare at the council, “once he has conquered the human world, he will prey on the animals in one way or another.”
“But there is nothing here for him,” said Ekkthurian. “Why would he want to come here?”
“He doesn’t need a reason,” said the owl. “He will invent a reason. Otter hides, maybe,” he said, glaring at Ekkthurian. “Soft, warm otter hides for winter.”
There was a great hush in the cave.
Charkky turned to look at Mikk, and their paws touched across Teb. Teb heard Jukka swallow as she pulled her heavy tail tighter around herself.
“And now the hydrus is returning, too,” said the owl. “It is a more immediate threat. It moves south from Vaeal, along in the shallower coastal seas. There are three teams of little screech owls watching and tracking it, and they will warn the otters at Rushmarsh when it gets close and send a message to Ebis the Black.”
“How can it be dangerous to Ebis the Black?” said Ekkthurian. “That hydrus can’t go on land.”
“It can move up the rivers to the inland ports, and it can destroy the lowland grain paddies during flooding cycle. It can move like a salamander over very little water when it wants to, on its great spread fins. And it will rend and kill anything that comes near the shore, reaching out with those long necks and wicked teeth. It is surely a slave of the dark,” said the owl. “And it will kill for the dark.”
Ekkthurian was quiet. The owl opened his beak in a soft clicking, as the hunter does before he swoops on his prey, and glared at Ekkthurian. Then Thakkur said softly, drawing attention to himself without ever raising his voice:
“Tebriel has brought us knives. They are effective against the hydrus. We must have more knives. And we must have swords and learn to use them.”
Ekkthurian stared at Thakkur, his body going rigid with anger. Then he hissed through bared teeth, “You would not dare to arm this nation like humans! Such a thing is blasphemy!” He rose and stood staring out at the silent crowd of otters. “How would you acquire such weapons? Only by stealing! And that, too, Thakkur of Nightpool, is against all Ottra tradition!”
Thakkur spoke softly in the silent cave. His voice seemed to carry more clearly than Ekkthurian’s. “I do not call it stealing,” he said evenly, “if we take from the dark. I call it weakening the enemy.”
There was a long moment of silence. Teb and Charkky exchanged a look. Then Ekkthurian barked, “What of the otters who must do such a deed? Do you not think many would be killed in a stealing raid? The owl is right, the dark raiders would skin any otter they could catch!”
“We are only a small band,” cried Urikk. “We are not warriors, to be pitting ourselves against the dark forces.”
“If the dark forces come here,” said Thakkur, “we will have no choice. If they come in the form of the hydrus, and attack you in the sea, you will have no choice.”
Ekkthurian and his friends were silent.
The owl began to fidget, grooming at a patch of tail feathers.
“Red Unat came here,” Thakkur said, “to bring us news of the wars, not to listen to our bickering. I apologize for the entire council.”
Teb thought Ekkthurian had been defeated, at least into temporary silence, but suddenly the thin otter rose again and stood at the edge of the dais with Urikk and Gorkk beside him, staring down at the gathered otters.
“If there is a dark,” said Ekkthurian, “if the hydrus does return and attack us, you can lay the blame directly on the human boy, for it is him the hydrus comes seeking. Him alone! It never attacked any of us or came near Nightpool before the boy came here.”
“If the boy leaves Nightpool,” growled Gorkk, “the hydrus will follow him, and leave us unmolested.”
Thakkur stood tall and still, an icy pillar staring at the three. “Would Nightpool deny sanction, deny safety and protection to the King of Auric?”
“What has the King of Auric to do with the boy?” Ekkthurian snapped. “We are speaking of a small, troublemaking boy.”
“We are speaking of the King of Auric,” said Thakkur. ‘Tebriel is the son of Everard of Auric, who was murdered by the dark forces. Tebriel is rightful heir to the throne.”
“You are lying,” shouted Ekkthurian. “He is only a homeless waif.”
But the tide was turned, and the seated otters began to grumble at Ekkthurian. They knew Thakkur did not lie.
‘Tebriel’s memory has returned to him,” said Thakkur. “He remembers his father’s murder and his own enslavement at the hands of Sivich, of the dark.”
“He says he’s the king’s son,” said Ekkthurian. “Does that make it fact?”
“It does. And my visions show the same.”
“And even if he were king,” growled Ekkthurian, “it would not change the harm he has brought to Nightpool. King or commoner, he must not be allowed to stay. He draws the hydrus here. He is a danger to us. He brings new ways that are a danger. The making of fire is insane; if fire is seen from the mainland, humans will be over here. The dark forces—if there are such—will surely be all over Nightpool, then. He is a danger, I tell you. A danger to all of us.” Ekkthurian seemed to grow blacker in his rage. “And if the hydrus comes for him again, here, many of us could die in its jaws.”
Teb stared across the heads of the gathered otters. Not one otter turned to look at him. He watched the three dark council members standing so fierce and still on the dais, and suddenly he had had enough. He was tight with fury as he stood up. All heads turned to look then.
“I am going,” he said evenly. “I am going now. You can expect that by the time you leave this cave I will be away from Nightpool.”
He walked out quietly, then ran the ledge to his cave, grabbed the knives and flint from the shelf, the cookpot, and shoved them into the pack, pulled Camery’s diary from his tunic pocket and pushed it in, too, grabbed his flippers, and made his way in the moonlight around the stone rim of the island, and down the cliff to the little beach. The path of the moon lay white across the water. I will find Camery and Garit, he thought. And I will retake Auric. I should never have stayed at Nightpool once I got well and could walk. He knelt to pull on his flippers and was thankful he had them as he stared out at the black, moon-washed sea.
Chapter 15
As he knelt to pull on his flippers, he heard Charkky shout, and Charkky and Mikk were plunging down the cliff. A crowd of otters streamed down after them, Jukka and Hokki and Litta and Kkelpin and dozens more. The owl soared overhead, and even Mitta climbed down, giving him such a soft, gentle look that it wrenched his heart.