But Thorn would discover this when he was hungry. When he had tried for himself and understood that he was too loud and too awkward.
When he had seen what was in the land, and what the wild things knew.
“I promised you a knife.”
A glance upward, wary interest. A stare of white wide eyes.
“The wer-knife. The one you used. That would be a good one for you. You can have it if you like. It’s a very good blade. You have to keep it spotless. Even fingers stain it. I’ll show you how to keep it.”
Thorn picked it up again, by the hilt. Held it.
The gangling boy came up the trail, thinking he was alert: Duun knew. Thorn looked this way and that: his callused feet made very little noise on the dusty track among the rocks.
“Up,” Duun hissed. “Look up.”
Thorn’s head came up. Duun had already moved, lost in the brush.
The boy was still looking up when Duun hit him in the back with a thrown stone. Thorn spun about and threw. Thorn’s stone rattled away down among brush and rock. Duun had evaded it with a fluid shift of his hip, and stood untouched.
“Too late,” Duun said. “You’re dead. I’m not.”
Thorn’s shoulders slumped. He bent his head in shame.
Whirled and sped another rock underhand.
Duun evaded that one too without more than shifting stance. Thorn did not look surprised, only exhausted. Beaten at last.
Duun grinned. “Better. That did surprise me.” The grin faded. “But your choosing this track up didn’t. That was your first mistake. How did I know? Can you figure that?”
Thorn gasped for breath. Hunkered down on the path, arms on scabbed knees. “Because I was tired. The climb’s easier.”
“Better still. You’re right. Think ahead next time. And think in all directions. You know this path. You should have seen these rocks in your head before you came to them.”
No answer. Thorn knew. Duun knew that he knew. Thorn wiped his forearm across his face and smeared dust across the sweat. Even at this range he stank of heat.
“Also,” Duun reminded him with delicacy, “when you came round the mountain the wind was coming at your shoulder, at an angle to the rocks. Do you see why that should have warned you?”
Thorn blinked sweat and wiped again. He had grown rangier, longer of limb. The belly had gone hollow beneath the ribs, ridged with muscle above the wrap about his loins. Brush-scars showed white on his skin. “Scent,” he said. He gasped for breath. There was chagrin in his half-drowned face. “Sorry. I’m sorry, Duun.”
“Sorry won’t save you. Scent-deaf doesn’t mean the world is. You’re dead, Thorn.”
“Yes, Duun.” A faint, hoarse voice. Shoulders slumped again. “You won’t catch me again.”
“Won’t I?”
“Duun-I’m hungry, Duun!”
Duun spun around the other side of the tree, leaned there looking at him and scowling. “Hunt, then. Fool. Don’t tell me what your needs are. I’ll know where to find you. Don’t trust me, Thorn.”
“I’m not playing, Duun!”
“Then neither will I be.” Duun spun round again. Headed downslope. “I’ll hurt you this time, Thorn!” “Duun!”
Fire crackled, there in the clearing. They made peace. Thorn nursed bruises. It was Duun’s catch Duun divided with him, meat which Thorn took gingerly, dancing it from one hand to the next while it cooled down.
“You do well,” Duun said.
“For someone who can’t smell,” Thorn said hoarsely. “Who falls into traps.”
Duun flicked his ears. “Good, you worry about your lacks. You’ll think of them. You won’t forget again.”
“Duun, what’s wrong with me?”
The question stopped him. The meat burned Duun’s fingers and he shifted it in haste, back and forth again, and laid it on a rock. “Wrong. Who said wrong?”
Silence from the other side of the fire. Grievous silence.
“You’re different,” Duun said. “Or maybe I am. Does that occur to you?”
It had not. Thorn blinked in shock. Then disbelief crept in. There were the meds. There was Ellud. Thorn was not diverted. Duun was pleased with that, too.
“You’re smart,” Duun said. “You’re quick, you’re clever. Brave. All those things. You’re Thorn. What if you were the only one? What if? What if I were the only Duun? Would that make a difference? You’re all you can be. You don’t need anything else. I don’t.”