"Mrrik… Mrikkarik…" Fritti tried to remember the sounds. He knew he must say it. "Mar… Murrik…" It was no use. He felt a great, soft burden settling on his back, buckling his legs.
"Help me," he choked in the Common Singing. "Help me… Lord Snap said to tell you… Mrirrik…"
Tailchaser collapsed to the snow beside the startled squirrel.
"Now, you-you cat: you speak brrrteek, why say brother name Lord Snap?"
Above Tailchaser's head, clinging upside down to the trunk of a tree, was a chubby old squirrel with a bent tail and glittering eyes. Behind him, showing less courage, a phalanx of Rikchikchik peered down the trunk and between leaves at Fritti.
"Talk now-talk!" squeaked the squirrel-leader. "How know Lord Snap? Tell-tell!"
"You say Lord Snap is your brother?" asked Tailchaser, trying to clear the cobwebs from his mind.
"Most certain yes!" chittered the squirrel a trifle disgustedly. "Snap is brother of Pop. Lord Pop is I-you see, so-silly cat?"
Feeling addled, Fritti reflected on this a moment.
"I was supposed to say something to you, Lord Pop-I mean, Lord Snap, your brother, told me to say… how did it go…" Lord Pop made an impatient clicking noise. "I'll try to say it!" Fritti muttered. "Mrrarreowrr… no, that's not it. Mrririk… Meowrrk… Harar! I can't remember it!"
Tailchaser noticed that Lord Pop's retinue seemed to have lost much of their fear of him, and were, in fact, squealing with amusement. Tailchaser was sore and confused and tired, and for a moment his mind wandered. Then, suddenly: "Dewclaws! I've got it!" Fritti laughed, a painful sound. "Mrikkamkareksnap! That's right, isn't it?" In his moment of exultation, he felt suddenly light-headed, and sagged where he stood. Lord Pop learned forward and fixed him with an agate eye.
"Is right. Sacred Oak pledge of Snap. We honor. Strange-strange times. You can walk, so-strange cat?"
Limping, Tailchaser followed the Rikchikchik party into the deep gro\ es of inner Ratleaf. Trudging behind the chattering, hurrying squirrels, Fritti absently noticed the red glare of the setting sun. Something rustled in the back of his mind, tried to make him pa) heed to the gathering darkness… but his head hurt: it was too hard to think. The rising steam of his breath caught his attention. He crunched on through the snow behind the bustling Rikchikchik.
The group halted. Tailchaser stood dazedly bv until Lord Pop and two other Rikchikchik descended from the trees to stand beside him. Looking down on their arched tails and round backs, he smiled benevolently and said: "I've been in the mound, you know." The squirrel-lord's companions drew back at this, chittering, but Lord Pop stood his ground, bright eyes thoughtful. He soundlessly signaled the others back; together they coaxed Tailchaser into a hollow, lightning-blasted stump. The inside was sheltered, free of snow. After making three stumbling, automatic turns for the Firstborn, Fritti collapsed to the ground. A bevy of Rikchikchik brought pine needles and bark, covering him from nose to tail-tip.
"We talk-talk sun next, so-strange cat," said Pop. "Now, you make sleep, yes?"
But Tailchaser had already slipped across the border into the dream-fields.
That night a darkness alive with searching shapes swirled harmlessly past, leaving Fritti's sleeping place undiscovered and safe.
In the depths of dream, Tailchaser stood on the edge of a vast plain of water, tempest-stirred, but silent. The broad shiny surface stretched as far as he could see, and the shapes of fla-fa'az wheeled and dove in the gray sky.
When he finally awoke, the short winter day was already half over. By the end of Smaller Shadows he found himself once more facing Lord Pop, who, with his court, had returned to Tailchaser's hollow tree. In his imperious stutter the squirrel-lord indicated that they had waited a long while for their cat-guest to rise, and had eventually given up and gone out to forage.
Tailchaser, feeling infinitely better for the long sleep, was only now discovering how many different parts of his body ached and throbbed. He was also ravenously hungry. The Rikchikchik may have sensed this, for even Pop showed more restraint than he had the previous day. For his part, Tailchaser fervently wished that he could slip off and do some hunting, but in view of the precarious alliance with the Rikchikchik, his natural prey, he decided it would be better to wait until he could creep off unobtrusively. So, stomach grumbling, he sat and listened patiently to Lord Pop's long summation of the morning's activities.
"So… now-now is the time for true-talk, yes?" chirped the portly squirrel-lord. "Why here, so-sudden cat? Why talk bad place?"
Fritti tried his best to explain the occurrences that had brought him finally to Ratleaf Forest. It was necessarily a long tale, and took a good part of the fading afternoon. When he told of his rescue of Mistress Whir and his subsequent audience with Lord Snap, the listeners responded with shrill noises of approval. The Rikchikchik were then nervously fascinated as he described the swarming cat metropolis of Firsthome. When he finally told of Vastnir, and his awful internment, several of the young females became quite dizzy, and had to be fanned with the bushy tails of their companions.
Lord Pop listened in grim quiet, interrupting only for clarification of certain points about the mound and its denizens.
"… And then I found you… or you found me, rather," finished Tailchaser. Lord Pop nodded his head. "What I don't really understand," added Fritti, "is why you are all still here. I thought everyone had left Radeaf." He looked inquiringly at the squirrel leader.
"Mam Rikchikchik leave. Many gone-gone," replied the lord. "But Pop no leave. Can't-can't. Nest to tribe since Root-in-Ground. Few-small stay, too. Live or die."
Fritti nodded understandingly, and for a moment the unusual gathering was silent. A brief and surprising foretaste of mortality, borne on the chill breeze, touched Fritti. He remembered his need.
"I have a favor to ask of you, Lord Pop," he said.
"Ask."
"I have a message to get to Firsthome-to the lords of my Folk. It must get there soon. I could not travel quickly enough myself. I am still very weak."
"Rikchikchik will do," said Lord Pop without hesitation. "We take word-word. Send Master Plink. Plink so-fast, like nut-fall." A young Rikchikchik sat up on his haunches, visibly swelling with importance.
"He looks very capable," said Tailchaser approvingly. "But he should not go alone. The message is important, and it is a long, dangerous journey to Rootwood. Also…" Tailchaser tried to speak as delicately as he could. "Also, the cats of Firsthome are not as acquainted as I am with the bravery and goodness of the Rikchikchik. They are liable to… have a misunderstanding. To send a large party would be preferable."
As the import of Tailchaser's words sank in Master Plink was seen to deflate, and two or three of the younger females threatened to become faint again. Lord Pop, however, took it in stride.
"Marvelous Acorn! No worry, cat-friend. Many Rikchikchik go soon. Plink will be small lord!" He chittered briefly at the young male, who looked somewhat reassured.
Fritti gave them the message to be carried, repeating it several times until Plink and the other young bucks had memorized it.
"… And remember," he said seriously, "if Prince Fencewalker isn't there, it must be given to Queen Sunback herself!" The assemblage made little whistling noises of awe, and Pop signaled an end to the conclave.
Frkti's hunting was not tremendously profitable. He caught enough bugs and grubs to take the edge off his hunger, and before bedding down was even persuaded by the now-comradely Master Plink to try a chestnut. Even with the Rikchikchik's help at removing the nut meat from its confounding shell, he did not find it a very satisfying experience; though he thanked Plink effusively, he secretly decided he would not make a very good squirrel.