"I know what he says. But I also know that he's scared to death."
"So am I."
"I know. I'm scared, too."
"You are?" The idea shocked her. "You don't seem scared of anything."
"All an act, my dear. That's why I need all the help I can get. A short while ago when we set the ambush, I was supposed to have twenty-one archers. But one of them ran off. I know he's your friend, and I know you'd like to believe him about the possibility of the Talents coexisting with Mekk, but he's all wrong. Dangerously wrong. He has this idea that we'd be better off if we split up into smaller groups. That way, in the event of an all-out attempt to do away with us, we could be fairly sure that some would survive to carry on the Talent."
"That sounds reasonable."
"On the surface, it does. But I really don't think Dennel's all that interested in preserving the Talent. Preserving Dennel is his main concern."
That remark stung Adriel, but she said nothing.
Komak paused, then grinned pointedly. "Besides — today proves the advantages of moving with a large group of individuals who can communicate silently and instantaneously. I think the lad just wants to run and I wouldn't worry too much about him. I'm sure he's not worrying about us. Your tery is a better friend — worth three Dennels."
Adriel turned and saw that her pet was now ambling on all fours among the psi-folk. Instead of ignoring him or swatting him when he got in the way, they smiled at him, called to him, scratched his back, or gave him bits of food. He had become a hero of sorts and had earned his place in the tribe.
"You're going to have to come up with a name for him," Komak said. "I'm surprised you haven't already."
"I wasn't sure he'd stay. In fact, I was almost sure he wouldn't."
"Well, it looks like he's going to be around for a while, and we can't just keep on calling him ‘the tery.’ "
"I'll think of a name, but I want it to be a good one."
"Fine. We should do what we can to bind him to us. He's proven to be a valuable watch animal."
"Don't you think it strange how he warned us?" she said, watching the creature.
"How do you mean?"
"It was almost as if he knew we were in danger from the troopers and brought that steel helmet to warn us."
Komak laughed. "He might be smart, but he's not that smart. No, I think he showed a natural response to the merciless treatment he received at the hands of the troopers when they cut his flesh to ribbons the other day. The tery came upon the scouts and instinctively attacked one of them, bringing back the helmet as a trophy."
"But he brought it right to you."
"Many pets do the same. No, the good thing about your tery is that he hates and fears Kitru's men as much as we do, but his senses are much keener than ours. He'll spot them long before we can."
"I guess you're right," she said but couldn't shake the feeling that there had been a definite purpose in her pet's actions today.
They broke camp early the next morning and began to trudge still deeper into the sun-filtered forest. Dennel had not yet shown up.
"Don't worry," her father assured her. "He'll catch up to us. We'll bring along his tent for him."
The sun was tangled in the trees by the time they stopped that day. Some of the psi-folk didn't even bother to set up their tents, but ate small amounts of dried meat and fell asleep under the stars. A light drizzle awoke them next morning.
A tired, cold, achy group held a silent conference in a tight knot near the central fire. Finally Komak broke away and strode angrily to where Adriel sat with the tery. The group gradually dissolved behind him.
"What's wrong, father?"
"They want to stay here. We should be moving farther away from the keep than this, but the women are tired and the children are crying and it was the consensus that this is far enough."
"I'm tired, too."
"We're all tired," he snapped, then softened. "Sorry. I told you I never wanted this job. But one thing I'm going to insist on is sending out a few scouts of my own to see what the surrounding area is like before we get too settled."
— VIII-
"Food…" she said in a plaintive voice, holding a small piece of meat before her. "Come, now. Say it: Food…"
The tery said nothing. Instead he merely stared back at Adriel. He liked looking at her. He liked her freckled nose and the red highlights in her blond hair.
The sun was half way to its zenith and Adriel had been coaching him since breakfast. She was nothing if not persistent. The girl seemed determined to teach her new pet to speak.
The tery debated the wisdom of giving in. Something deep within him ached to please her, to make her smile. He finally decided to gamble on a single word. Just for her. He pretended to follow her persistent example.
Feigning great effort, he rasped, "Fud."
Adriel froze in wide-eyed wonder.
"Fud," he repeated.
Komak was sitting nearby and turned his head at the unfamiliar voice. "Was that…?"
"Yes!" Adriel said breathlessly. "It was him! He spoke! Did you hear him? He spoke!"
She quickly gave the tery the piece of meat she had been holding and held up another. But the arrival of one of the point men Komak had sent out halted further demonstration of his newfound ability.
After a few moments of telepathic conversation, her father turned to her.
"Looks like we'll be needing you."
"Oh?" She seemed to have been half-expecting this.
"Seems there's a tiny village a little ways off to the east. Perhaps twenty or thirty inhabitants, and one or two may have the Talent. It's up to you to find them." #
Twelve mud-walled domes sat in a circle around a wide area of bare earth. Adriel motioned the tery to stay back out of sight in the brush.
Tense, not knowing what to expect, she walked toward the circle of huts, holding tightly to her father's arm.
"Hello!" Komak called when they entered the circle. "Hello, inside. We come in peace. We wish to speak with you."
Slowly, one by one, the inhabitants of the miniscule village came out of their huts and stared at the newcomers, whispering and pointing, but saying nothing to them, and not straying far from their doorways.
Adriel left her father at the perimeter and proceeded alone to the center. He couldn't help her with this. Only she could find the Talent.
No one understood the Talent, least of all Adriel. Her mother, before she had sickened and died, had tried in vain to explain it to her. Half of the Talent was another voice, she had said, a separate voice that did not automatically accompany vocal speech. It had to be volitionally activated and projected. The other half was the receptive faculty that operated continually unless consciously blocked out. Most Talents learned of their ability first through the receptive facet.
Adriel understood none of it. She could neither send nor receive. The Talent was little more than a tingling in her mind, a vague sensation she could home in on and almost touch. To those who possessed the full Talent, reception was nondirectional. Images appeared behind their eyes, words sounded between their ears, concepts exploded within their minds. But from where?
Adriel knew where. And that was why she was here. To see if any of these villagers belonged with her group.
Adriel closed her eyes. The Talent was strong here. She could feel it.
She turned in a slow circle. Once. Twice. Then stopped and opened her eyes again. She faced a man, a woman, and what looked like a ten-year-old boy.
She recognized a faint, familiar sensation of the Talent off to her right — her father. But another sensation, a strong tingling in the forepart of her brain, emanated from the trio before her. She moved forward and with every step the sensation became stronger until she stood within arm’s reach.