The Search for Kä Read Free

shock, *
that you can follow my thoughts without my knowing it, but I have to
ask
what you’re thinking?
*
    I was referring to our conscious conversation, not the rare moments in which he and I merged so completely that we could share one another’s sensory perception.
    *
You think more,
* he said.
    I laughed aloud, remembering at the last second to muffle the noise so that I wouldn’t wake Tarani. Yayshah looked around at me, her eyes slitted and her ears cocked back warily, then returned her attention to the route we were taking.
    We had left behind the thick, tangled greenery that characterized the Valley of the Sha’um—although, strictly speaking, the area was less a valley than the verdant foothills at the junction of two mountain ranges. The Morkadahls ran roughly north and south, and another range of high mountains, which formed part of what the Gandalarans called the Great Wall, ran roughly east and west. I guessed there must have been a network of small streams trickling down from the higher ground, and probably a sort of underground delta effect, to support the lushness of the Valley.
    We were traveling south, following the eastern edge of the Morkadahls. The countryside here was much like what I had seen on the western side of the range—twisted and curling dakathrenil trees mixed with lots of species of bushes. Unlike the towering forest that marked the home of the sha’um, few of these plants grew more than six feet high, preferring to cling to and shade the water-giving ground and, in the process, provide homes for the variety of small animals, insects and birds that shared their space.
    Moving across the overgrown ground should have been little problem for the sha’um, who were accustomed to the much taller, more complicated, and occasionally barbed undergrowth of the Valley. But I could see that Yayshah was moving with exaggerated caution, placing her feet carefully.
    *
She’s having a harder time than you are, Keeshah,
* I said. *
Is it because of her cubs? Is it hurting her to travel?
*
    *Don’t know
,* the cat replied.
    There was an overtone of worry in Keeshah’s mind, and something more. I felt a sudden sense of alarm.
    *
What’s bothering you?
* I asked him.
    *
Female here because of me. Cubs. Afraid. Don’t want hurt.
*
    *
Don’t take all that blame on yourself,
* I said gently.
    *
Yayshah came along because of Tarani, too
—
because she can talk to Tarani the same way you can talk to me.
*
    I felt a sense of agreement from him. *
Woman knows what female needs. I don’t.
*
    There was sadness and guilt in the thought, guilt I was forced to share. Keeshah had been deeply enthralled in a period of his life which excluded me, a time when he had been totally preoccupied with the biological need to mate and reproduce. In order to achieve perfect communion with those needs, he had instinctively cut off the conscious functioning of our mindlink. He had been mate and father only, totally devoted to Yayshah.
    Tarani and I had been cornered near the poison-filled volcanic crater the Gandalarans called the Well of Darkness. In desperation, I had called to Keeshah. Nothing short of imminent physical danger to me could have penetrated that instinctive blockage, I was sure—but Keeshah’s devotion to me had let him re-establish our conscious link, and he had come to us. His presence had saved our lives.
    Once he had broken it, Keeshah had not been able to achieve again the natural communion he had forsaken. Yet his loyalty to his family was still in operation, making him feel selfish and concerned that his preference for me would interfere with their welfare.
    *
I know it troubles you that you can’t take care of Yayshah the way you think you should,
* I told Keeshah.
    *
But look at it this way
—
there are three of us now who love her. We won’t let her or the cubs come to any harm.
*

2
    When Tarani awoke, I asked her about