“No-matter – ” He got out the words in gusty breaths, fighting for control over what racked him. “It will be better – soon.”
But the moments he fought that battle seemed very long to me. Finally he straightened up. There was the glisten of sweat in his facial hair; he brought up one hand to smear it away from his eyes.
Then he looked to the food, and I put out my hand quickly to cover it. He could have so much, but no more.
“You are right.” His voice was firmer. “It must not be wasted.” Then, turning his head with visible effort, he pointed to the branch.
“Let me – the notus – ” Once more his voice was hesitant, and he regarded the flowers almost apprehensively.
What he wanted, I could not tell, save that I knew the change they had wrought in me. Perhaps he hoped for the same result. I bent my head to their scent as I handed them to him.
Only he turned his head away sharply, as if the perfume I found so stimulating was to him a foul stench or acrid fumes.
I could see the great effort he made, forcing himself to hold his head steady, to lean toward the branch and breathe deeply. He gasped, choked, as he expelled that quickly. His hands came up slowly, so I was minded of a man putting out his fingers to grasp a searing coal, nerving himself to the task because some will or duty demanded.
And he took the branch and held it, though he writhed and twisted as if under torture.
“I can – no – longer – ” There was a dark bead of blood on his lip where his teeth must have cut flesh. He tossed the branch from him and sat, his shoulders slumped, his whole attitude so desolate that I was moved to ask, “What was it that you hoped?”
“I have gone too far – After I lost my rations, it was eat of their food or starve, though I would not surrender all my will ever!” He sat staring down at his own body, as if he both loathed and feared what he saw. Then he might have faced some fact squarely and won out, for his head came up again and he looked to me, ready to face what lay here and now.
“One does not go forward by looking back.” That might have been a quotation. “And to us now the going forward must matter. Are you old Terran stock?” The change in subject surprised me.
Then I laughed because it was a foolish question. “Who is nowadays, when even where Terra lies is in dispute? My father was of the scouts. He made a planet marriage on Chalox, of which I am issue. How do I know how many hundreds of generations back now Terra lies?”
“Terra unknown? But that is impossible! Why, I have on my ship Terran tapes. I am only fourth generation from First Ship on Nordens.”
It was my turn to stare. I had never met, even among all those far rovers who drifted in and out of Lazk Volk’s quarters, anyone who had any real contact with Terra. For generations it had been a legend. There were stories it had been destroyed in some galactic war. Those I knew were either a mixture of cross-planetary strains like myself, or could and did, with undue pride, trace their families back to a First Ship. But that ship, in turn, had lifted from one of the crowded inner worlds, not from Terra.
“I have never met anyone who had contact in any way with Terra.” I wondered if he were telling me the truth or trying to impress me for some reason.
“It does not matter. What does is that Terra has very ancient legends of a place such as this – ” His hand indicated what lay about us. “But then it was a part of Terra.”
Now I knew he must be insane, so tormented by his stay here that he babbled nonsense. “This is Dylan!” I retorted. Only of that I could not be sure. It was certainly not the Dylan I had known.
He who called himself Jorth Kosgro shook his head. “You say you came here from Dylan. I know that I came from an unknown planet where I set down my ship. And Terra has legends. The tapes are in my ship now, concerning all this. They tell of a People of the Hills who lived underground and tried to entice mortal men to visit them. If you ate or drank of their food and drink, you were bound to them. Skark – they had legends of him, too. I have even seen on tridee a very ancient statue of his like. And Shuck – he was said to roam parts of Terra at night, bringing misfortune or death to all who sighted him. All the people had strange powers of mind, so they did things that seemed impossible to mankind. Even the rings of safety, those were sometimes seen on Terran ground. And it was considered ill fortune to step within them, doubly so in any way to destroy them.”
His words carried conviction. At least it was evident he believed what he told me. But this could not be Terra – it could not! And I said so.
“Perhaps not Terra, but something else. It may be in another space-time existence, a world that does not obey the laws of matter as we know them – but that at intervals is able to touch one of our planets so there is communication between them for a space. All the legends of Terra were very, very old. And it was true they belonged to an early time when that planet was thinly populated and mankind were few. Such crossings back and forth were far in the past. So it might be that the tie with this world had been severed in some manner and this, or Terra, moved into a new position. Thus when a gate was then opened, it was upon a new world.”
“But why do they want to cross, to bring us here?” Things were beginning to make better sense to me. “Bartare – She wanted to come here – she was guided in a way. But why would they want her?”
“Bartare, who is she?”
Keeping my tale as brief as I could, I told him why I had come and how, and that I must find the children.
“A changeling,” he said. “It is another tale of the people of the Hills, that for some reason they needed new blood at intervals and must draw upon mankind for recruits. They either enticed adults or tricked them into entering their domain, or they exchanged children with humankind when they were very young, though the latter story might have covered some other activity. It is plain your Bartare knew well what she was hunting, and she found it here. And-if she is of their blood for sure-” He shook his head. “I do not think you will get her to return willingly.”
“Willing or not, she must go back,” I said with a determination I secretly wondered I could continue to hold.
“I wonder – ” he began, and when he did not continue, I prompted him.
“You have some ideas as to where I may find her?”
“Perhaps. Her calling would be the work of a Great One. You would have to go to one of their cities to find out. And since those have their safeguards, those you sought would be warned of your coming. Do not underrate them, Kilda c’ Rhyn, for while our kind depend upon machines and the works of men’s brains to do their bidding, they have that which is totally alien to our way of thought and our powers, yet it is the more mighty here.”
“But you can show me – take me there?” I brushed aside his warning.
“If you wish. It would seem there is little choice in the matter.”
What more he might have said was lost, for we heard then, afar off, the horn that had frightened Oomark and me. And this time we had no ring to bring us safety. My companion moved with more speed than I thought he had left. He was on his feet, facing the mist curtain; his two wide and flat nostrils puffed in and out, as if he would use the sense of smell to locate menace.
First he turned in the direction of that sound. And this time I could not deceive myself – it was closer. Then he looked to the right and once more sniffed.
“There lies running water – ” He pointed as if he could see it “If we can reach that, we have a chance.”
Why wafer meant safety, I did riot understand. But I must trust one who knew more of this world than I did. So I fastened the supply bag to my belt and caught up the branch and my bag of stones.