Doomstalker Read Free Page B

did not like that, though she knew there was no avoiding it. In a few years they would assume adult roles. Then Zambi and Kub would be gone entirely...
    Poor Kublin. And a mind was of no value in a male.
    Across a trickle of a creek, up a slope, across a small meadow, down the wooded slope bordering a larger creek, and downstream a third of a mile. There the creek skirted the hip of a substantial hill, the first of those that rose to become the Zhotak. Marika settled on her haunches a hundred feet from the stream and thirty above its level. She stared at the shadow among brush and rocks opposite that marked the mouth of the cave. Kublin settled beside her, breathing rapidly though she had not set a hard pace.
    There were times when even she was impatient with his lack of stamina.
    Sunlight slanted down through the leaves, illuminating blossoms of white, yellow, and pale red. Winged things flitted from branch to branch through the dapple of sunlight and shadow, seeming to flicker in and out of existence. Some light fell near the cave mouth, but did nothing to illuminate its interior.
    Marika never had approached closer than the near bank of the creek. From there, or where she squatted now, she could discern nothing but the glob of darkness. Even the propitiary altar was invisible.
    It was said that meth of the south mocked their more primitive cousins for appeasing spirits that would ignore them in any case. Even among the Degnan there were those who took only the All seriously. But even they attended ceremonies. Just in case. Ponath meth seldom took chances.
    Marika had heard that the nomad packs of the Zhotak practiced animistic rites which postulated dark and light spirits, gods and devils, in everything. Even rocks.
    Kublin had his breath. Marika rose. Sliding, she descended to the creek. Kublin followed tautly. He was frightened, but he did not protest, not even when she leapt the stream. He followed. For once he seemed determined to outgut her.
    Something stirred within Marika as she stared upslope. From where she stood the sole evidence of the cave’s presence was a trickle of mossy water on slick stone, coming from above. In some seasons a stream poured out of the cave.
    She searched within herself, trying to identify that feeling. She could not. It was almost as if she had eaten something that left her slightly irritable, as though there was a buzzing in her nerves. She did not connect it with the cavern. Never before had she felt anything but fear when nearby. She glanced at Kublin. He now seemed more restless than frightened. “Well?”
    Kublin bared his teeth. The expression was meant to be challenging. “Want me to go first?”
    Marika took a couple of steps, looked upslope again. Nothing to see. Brush still masked the cave.
    Three more steps.
    “Marika.”
    She glanced back. Kublin looked disturbed, but not in the usual way. “What?”
    “There’s something in there.”
    Marika waited for an explanation. She did not mock. Sometimes he could tell things that he could not see. As could she... He quivered. She looked inside for what she felt. But she could not find it.
    She did feel a presence. It had nothing to do with the cave. “Sit down,” she said softly.
    “Why?”
    “Because I want to get lower, so I can look through the brush. Somebody is watching. I don’t want them to know we know they’re there.”
    He did as she asked. He trusted her. She watched over him.
    “It’s Pohsit,” Marika said, now recalling a repeated unconscious sense of being observed. The feeling had left her more wary than she realized. “She’s following us again.”
    Kublin’s immediate response was that of any pup. “We can outrun her. She’s so old.”
    “Then she’d know we’d seen her.” Marika sat there awhile, trying to reason out why the sagan followed them. It had to be cruel work for one as old as she. Nothing rational came to mind. “Let’s just pretend she isn’t there. Come on.”
    They had taken