My suggestion is met by silence and the samuran equivalent of furrowed brows. I don’t blame them – it is a little out there.

  Why would we want to tell her sooner, Markus? Yells asks, venturing the question they’re all thinking. Isn’t the issue that she is told at all?

  “She’s going to find out sooner or later,” I tell the group, my eyes meeting one pair of bronze slit-pupil orbs after another. “At the latest the next time you guys go to the Festival since, even if you don’t take any of the additional Pathwalkers with you, I doubt everyone will keep a perfect silence. And if we don’t do anything, she’ll find out from the Warriors who escaped in the next few days – assuming that they survive the forest, of course. But if we tell her sooner then we’re the ones who control the information she receives – and that gives us some influence over her response.”

  There’s silence again, but this time it’s more thoughtful than before. I see understanding in several of the Warriors’ eyes – Shrieks’ in particular. A few of the Unevolved seem to have got it too, as have River, Grower, and, surprisingly, Plant-speaker. I hadn’t thought that she might be tactically-minded.

  Why do you say that we can influence her response? Yells presses – she clearly hasn’t even begun to understand. Since most of the other Pathwalkers and Unevolved seem to be in the same position as well as some Warriors, I explain.

  “From what I’ve understood, the worst possibility for our village is that the leader of the red tribe takes her time and draws on support from other villages of her tribe, right?” I see several indications of agreement.

  Unless we also draw on our tribe’s strength, but then that risks prompting an intense inter-tribal war, which wouldn’t be good for any of us, Tarra clarifies. I nod at her.

  “Precisely. We also have the deadline of my departure from this world.” I see several startled looks sent my way. It’s not surprise that I will be leaving – I’ve made sure that the council is aware of that – but realisation that indeed my departure will affect this situation. “I don’t want to leave this whole thing hanging over your heads when I go, so honestly, the sooner we can resolve this, the better.”

  But how are you proposing to reduce the time for the red leader to respond? Joy asks hesitantly. It is quite a distance to her village.

  “Not by air,” I respond with a grin.

  You’re suggesting sending her a message with Sirocco? River asks, caution flickering through her spikes. Or going yourself with the Great Pride?

  “I’m considering both those options,” I admit.

  You mustn’t go yourself! Iandee breaks in, alarmed. We cannot afford to lose you!

  “You’re going to lose me at some point,” I remind him gently. He looks away.

  Not yet, he murmurs quietly. Not so soon. I send him a feeling which is the equivalent of putting my hand on his shoulder in a friendly gesture.

  But what is to stop the red leader just hearing your words – through your companion or from you personally – and still deciding to take her time to respond? Flower asks, her calm voice bringing us back onto the topic at hand.

  “Don’t forget that we have two of her Pathwalkers,” I remind them.

  “You’re intending on threatening them to hasten the response!” exclaims Breaks-a-bone, then his spikes colour a deep pink when everyone turns to look at him. Not used to speaking much in the council meetings, he quails back for a moment, and then obviously forces himself to straighten up again.

  “You’re right,” I tell him, trying to put him more at ease. “Even if I don’t intend to do anything more to them than I already have – assuming they toe the line – if I tell the red tribe leader that she only has a chance of retrieving them if she comes in the next, say, fifteen days, then what do you think are the chances that she will respond in that timeframe?”

  The samurans look at each other and murmurs spring up as they discuss the idea.

  The red leader is almost certain to come for her Pathwalkers, declares Windy. They will be too important to her to leave here.

  Certainly, Healer is, Tarra agrees. As far as I remember, there are no other Pathwalkers with a healing-type skill in her village and only one who is capable of making their potions and poisons. Healer is important enough to them that I’m surprised the red leader encouraged her to come at all.

  I can’t help but smile a little wryly – after all of Water-former’s declarations that her leader would come for her, it seems more likely that her leader will come for her sister, and that Water-former’s own rescue will be more of a happy benefit rather than the objective.

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  “So, overall, what do you think of the idea?” I ask the group. Once more, they exchange glances.

  It’s bold, Shrieks declares. But it offers the opportunity for us to determine the terms of the battle.

  “If there is to be a battle at all,” I remind him. “I will give her the option to swear to a truce. And if she agrees to it, I would suggest we send messengers to all the other green tribe villages – and perhaps the leaders of the blue and yellow tribes too – to ensure that they all know what’s happening so she’s held to the peace. He twitches his tail in apparent agreement, but I can tell that he’s not convinced that there’s any way of peacefully resolving the situation. I have to admit that, though I’m hoping that it won’t come to another fight, I’ve seen enough of how samurans interact to guess that it will.

  Shrieks-loudly is right, agrees River. I think we should do it.

  Slowly, one council-member after another chimes in agreement, whether strong or hesitant. There are only a couple of cautious voices from the elders about not biting off more than we can chew, but they’re coming from a place of caution rather than actual disagreement – I can live with that.

  With the agreement on the course of action, we need to actually determine the plan. It takes us a while to work through together – the downside of having so many council members is that sometimes people want to speak just for the sake of being heard, rather than because they have much to say. It can make council meetings rather frustratingly slow and I admit that I do escape into Meditation a few times when the discussion gets too bogged down – at least that way I’m doing something useful. But by the time the sun has travelled halfway towards the horizon, we have our plan.

  The council finishes soon after that – almost all the other business was discussed in the council meeting the night before last. And the fact that somehow my challenge took two nights and a day to complete still boggles my mind a little.

  The samurans are reluctant to leave the den, but we all have things to do. Travelling out of the den together, I lead the way past Kalanthia who once more gazes at each samuran who files past with a baleful stare. Once everyone is out, I go back in – not because I forgot something, but because I need to visit someone else.

  A short walk next to the Pure Energy stream later, and I’m pulling myself out of the underground passage and into Raven’s den. There, I’m dragon-piled by Daphne and Ivor. Apparently, even though only Noir wanted to stay with me until I woke up, the other two hatchlings are still happy to see me. I rub their favourite spots while they happily send me mental images of the hunts that they went on.

  They end up getting into an argument over who killed the biggest creature. Frankly, I’d give both of them the award if it was a contest – each of them killed a creature which was at least twice their size. The most amazing thing, though, was that each of them was able to lift the creature afterwards. Despite my suspicion that Noir’s flight is somehow aided by magic despite his apparent magicless state, it’s clear that his siblings have far more of whatever it is.

  The alcaoris hatchlings are almost healed by this point. Physically, all of them are now in the best of health, their bodies probably actually stronger than the average hatchling’s would be thanks to the amount of flesh-magic I’ve suffused them with. Certainly, Raven has remarked that they have been more resistant to the attacks of beasts and the effects of accidents – like slamming into the odd tree when learning to fly – than he was expecting.

  Magically, Noir is still as empty of Energy as ever. Daphne and Ivor’s Energy channels, however, are finally realigning into a form which looks far more natural to them than the mess of threads of before. And the blossoming of their matrices seems to have had increasing effects on their physical strength, stamina, and speed. As I can see from the battle which I’m now needing to step around to avoid being struck as they roll across the floor in a ball of hissing scales, wings, and tails.

  Vicious as it looks, I can tell that they’re not biting each other – at least, not too hard – and that no real harm will be done. Just one of innumerable spats that the two siblings have with each other. They’re far more gentle with Noir, something that I’m relieved about even though I know that it frustrates the black hatchling. Perhaps it’s not so surprising that he decided to go hunting rather than return here.

  What brings you here? Raven rumbles at me as I approach him.

  “I wanted to call in one of the other two favours you owe me,” I tell him bluntly. He eyes me for a moment then huffs a breath of rotten-meat scented air that makes me wrinkle my nose in distaste. I have a pain management Skill – maybe I can get one that allows me to turn off my sense of smell when I want.

  I cannot deny that you have fulfilled your side of the bargain, he admits, eyeing his two hatchlings with pride. I do not think it will be long before I can visit the hatchling grounds again. Healed, with both physical and magical aspects fully intact, my brothers should have no argument against at least these two joining with the others there.

  “And Noir?” I ask gently. I don’t think I’ve been imagining Raven’s increasingly stand-offish attitude to the most damaged of his offspring. He’s a good father and cares for his hatchlings as well as any father might, but ultimately, he’s a beast. Noir has no promise of becoming a strong beast, capable of siring offspring of his own. In evolutionary terms, he’s a dead end. And whether Raven’s thinking about it like that or not, I sense increasing distance between him and his smallest son.

  He will never be accepted by them, Raven states bluntly, though I can tell that the admission causes him pain. He is better off with you. Perhaps your magic can make something of him that his own lack bars from him.

  I eye Raven carefully. It’s a very pragmatic approach. But I’ll have to see what Noir thinks about it.

  “As we agreed, when the hatchlings are healed to the best of my Abilities, I will give all of them the opportunity to maintain our Bond – or to surrender it. What they choose at that point is up to them.” Now it’s Raven’s turn to eye me – his gaze is far better at pinning someone in place than my own, especially when accompanied by a flicker of his domain.

  Just as I’m starting to wonder if Raven is going to choose this moment to refute our agreement, he dips his nose very slightly.

  We did agree that, he acknowledges. I would ask that you wait until I have taken my hatchlings to properly meet my brothers and their offspring first. My hatchlings should know what their choice truly is before they decide what they are willing to give up.

  It’s a fair request.

  “Alright, fine. As long as you return at least ten days before I’m due to leave. And that’s fifty-five days away from now.”

  That will certainly be manageable, Raven agrees. My children are much faster flying now and are able to maintain their speed for far longer – we should be able to make it to the hatchling grounds within a few sunrises. Now, you wished to ask for a favour?

  “Yes. Before you head off to the hatchling grounds, I’d like your help with a situation I’m dealing with. Specifically, I’d like you to take a message for me.”

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