“I just don’t understand you people!” Diego said, throwing his hands up in the air in resignation.
“You’re getting closer, though,” Bunny said. She smiled up at him and patted the rock beside her. “Sit and eat. We’ve a ways to go today. And you’ve got to finish your song before we get back to Harrison’s Fjord.”
“You’ve one to do, too, you know,” he snapped at her.
“Diego!” Yana snapped right back as she would to an insolent trooper.
“Sorry,” he muttered, and sat down and gnawed his anger away on his own strip of jerky.
Coaxtl did not entirely desert her youngling. The airship was similar to other machines she had expertly dodged before. They often held people who had proved dangerous to her kind. She followed it on swift paws, venturing perilously near to a human-place, and there, on a hillock over looking the habitations, she found herself a place where she and the Home seemed as one, and watched and waited.
She did not see where the youngling went, but she saw when the airship flew into the sky again, carrying only one of the men with it.
A night passed, a day, and another night, and still Coaxtl waited, and she saw a land machine that could run very fast, and which she liked no better than the flying kind, scuttle toward a den. A man climbed out of it and she recognized him as the white-tailed one of the bad scent. He walked to a place where young ones were playing and there, so still that even Coaxtl’s searching eyes had not spotted her, sat the youngling, small and still as the tree against which she waited while the other human cubs frolicked in the snow.
After a time, the youngling rose and followed the white-tailed one to the land machine, which Coaxtl saw contained another man already and many objects. The machine sped out of the town, past the hillock where Coaxtl waited, and back out toward the plains. Coaxtl knew, without knowing how she knew, that the man was taking the youngling to that place from which she had escaped.
This seemed foolish to Coaxtl. Foolish of the white-tail to take the youngling back to where she obviously did not want to be, and foolish of the girl to go. It did not make sense to Coaxtl why the girl would return to the bad place she had fled. Therefore, since it did not make sense, it could not be true. Therefore, the child did not wish to go back. Therefore, the men did not have the youngling’s best interests in mind, and such interests were once more protected only by Coaxtl. Therefore, Coaxtl followed, keeping to cover when she could and traveling faster and more quietly than the cloud shadows she resembled.
Luzon headed in the direction of the Vale of Tears, right into the rising sun, which, despite the snow-glare goggles he wore, made driving very difficult.
The girl had been very little help, being too ignorant to know the use of a map. She could simply point out the general direction she had been traveling when he had first seen her with the cat. He hoped she would be of more use later.
The child spoke not at all now, crouching in the pull-down jump seat behind him, her ragged-nailed fingers clutching the safety webbing as if her life depended on its protection. That annoyed Matthew, who considered himself an extremely capable driver. He fixed his gaze on the so-called track he had to follow, while Braddock kept his eyes glued on the compass when the terrain made it necessary to detour about obstacles even the sturdy snocle couldn’t run over. Only once did the girl make a sound: a sort of half-stifled cry of relief.
“What was that all about, little one?” he asked, trying to sound as benign as he could.
“Nnnunununn nothing, gracious sir,” she said, and he had the vague impression that she had to turn her head back to the front to answer him. He glanced in the mirror but could see nothing but snowy plains and patchily covered mountains behind them.
“It must have been something. You haven’t said a word since we left. Are you not happy in my company?”