She made up her mind. Softly, she began to sing. The words hovered in the dark stillness of the evening, floating in the quiet of the little clearing, reaching out, touching like gentle fingers.
It took only a few moments for the wishsong’s magic to weave its spell, and the giant cat sat back on its haunches, luminous eyes on the Valegirl. Blinking in sleepy cadence to the song, he lay docilely at her feet.
Brin went still. For an instant, no one spoke.
“Devils!” the old man shrilled finally, a shrewd look on his weathered face.
The girl came forward wordlessly and stood directly in front of Brin. There was no fear in her eyes, merely curiosity. “How did you do that?” she asked, sounding puzzled. “I didn’t think anyone could do that.”
“It’s a gift,” Brin answered.
The girl hesitated. “You’re not a devil, are you? You’re not one of the walkers or their spirit kin?”
Brin smiled. “No, nothing like that. I just have this gift.”
The girl shook her head in disbelief. “I did not think anyone could do that to Whisper,” she repeated.
“They’re devils!” the old man insisted and stamped his sandaled foot.
Whisper, meanwhile, had come back to his feet and moved over to Rone. The highlander started in surprise, then shot Brin an imploring look as the beast pushed his black muzzle against him. For a moment longer Whisper sniffed the highlander’s clothing in curious fashion. Then abruptly the great jaws opened and fastened loosely about his right boot and began to tug. What remained of Rone’s composure began to slip rapidly away, and he tried to pull free.
“I think he wants to play with you,” the girl announced, a faint smile forming on her lips. She directed a knowing look at the old man, who merely grunted his displeasure and moved several paces further away from them all.
“Well… could you… make sure?” Rone gasped in exasperation, struggling valiantly now to keep his feet as the great cat continued to pull and tug vigorously at the worried boot.
“Whisper!” the girl called sharply.
The huge creature released his grip instantly and trotted to her side. She reached out from beneath the short cloak and rubbed the shaggy head roughly, her long dark hair falling down about her face as she leaned forward to place her head close to his. She spoke softly to him for a moment, then glanced back at Brin and Rone.
“You seem to have a way with animals. Whisper is quite taken with you.”
Brin cast a quick glance at Rone, who was struggling to pull his boot back in place on his foot. “I think Rone would be just as happy if Whisper didn’t take to him quite so much,” she observed.
The girl smiled broadly then, a hint of mischievousness flashing briefly in her dark eyes. “I like you, Brin Ohmsford. You are welcome here—both you and Rone Leah.” She extended a slim brown hand in greeting. “I am Kimber Boh.”
Brin accepted the hand, feeling in its grip a mixture of strength and softness that surprised her. She was surprised, too, when she caught sight of a brace of wicked-looking long knives strapped to the girl’s slim waist beneath the shore cloak.
“Well, they’re not welcome as far as I’m concerned!” the old man snapped from behind the girl, making a gesture of brushing them all aside with a broad sweep of one sticklike arm.
“Grandfather!” Kimber Boh admonished. She gave him a sharp look of disapproval and then turned back to Brin. “You mustn’t mind him. He is very protective of me. I am all the family he has, so he sometimes feels…”
“Don’t be so quick to tell them everything about us!” the old man interrupted, shaking his wispish head in dismay. “What do we know of them? How can we be sure what really brought them here? That girl has a devil’s voice if she can back off Whisper like she did! No, you are much too trusting, girl!”
“And you are much too quick to distrust,” Kimber Boh replied evenly. Her pixie face tightened with resolve. “Now tell them who you are.”‘
The old man’s mouth screwed into a vise. “I’ll tell them nothing!”
“Tell them, grandfather.”
The sandaled foot stamped petulantly. “Tell them yourself. You think you know so much more than me!”
Rone Leah had come forward to stand next to Brin, and the two glanced at each other awkwardly. Whisper looked up ac the highlander, yawned and dropped his massive head back onto his paws. A deep, purring sound rose out of his throat as his blue eyes slipped shut.
Kimber Boh turned to face the Valegirl and the highlander. “My grandfather forgets sometimes that the games he is so fond of playing are not real. One of the games he plays often involves changing who he is. He does this by deciding to bury the old self and start life over. He last did this about a year ago.” She gave the old man a knowing look. “But he is who he always was. He is, in fact, the man you have come to find.”
“Then he really is Cogline.” Brin made it a statement of fact.
“I am not Cogline!” the old man insisted heatedly. “He’s dead and buried, just like I told you! Don’t be listening to what she has to say!”
“Grandfather!” Kimber Boh admonished once more. “You are who you are, and you cannot be otherwise. Pretending is for children. You were born Cogline and that is who you will always be. Now please try to e a good host to your guests. Try to be their friend.”
“Ha! I didn’t invite them here, so I don’t have to be a good host!” Cogline snapped obstinately, determined to have nothing whatsoever, to do with either the Valegirl or the highlander. “As for being their friend, you be their friend if you want—that’s up to you!”
Brin and Rone looked at each other doubtfully. It did not appear that they were going to have much luck obtaining help from the old man in finding their way through Darklin Reach.
“Very well, grandfather—I shall be host and friend for the both of us.” Kimber Boh sighed. She faced them squarely, ignoring the old man.. “It’s growing late. You have come a long way and you need food and rest. Home is just a short distance from here, and you are welcome to stay the night as my guests—and my grandfather’s.”
She paused to consider something more. “In fact, it would be a great favor to me if you would stay. Few travelers come this far east, and even then I seldom have a chance to talk with them. As I said, grandfather is very protective. But perhaps you would consent to talk with me—to tell me something of your home in the Southland. Would you do that?”
Brin smiled wearily. “For a place to sleep and something to eat, I think that is the least we could do.”
Rone nodded in agreement, although not without an apprehensive glance at Whisper.
“It is settled then,” Kimber Boh announced. She called to the big cat, who rose, stretched leisurely and padded up to her. “If you will follow me, we can be there in a few minutes’ time.”
She turned, with Whisper beside her, and disappeared back into the forest. The Valegirl and the highlander hitched up their backpacks and followed. As they passed Cogline, the old man refused to look at them, staring at the ground in grim determination, his heavy brows furrowed.
“Dratted trespassers!” he muttered.
Then with a wary glance about, he shuffled after them into.
A moment later, the little clearing stood empty.
Chapter Thirty-One
Home for the girl, the old man, and the disappearing cat was a pleasant, but very average-looking stone and timber cottage situated in a broad, grass-covered clearing sheltered by centuries—old oak and red elm. Porches ran along the front and rear of the cottage, and the walls were grown thick with flowering vines and bush evergreens. Stone walkways ran from the home through gardens that lay all about—some flower, some vegetable, all carefully tended and neatly draw. Spruce and pine lined the perimeter of the clearing, and hedgerows ran along the borders of a gardens. A great amount of work had gone into the care and nurture of the entire grounds.