Finding the Way and Other Tales of Valdemar Read Online Free PDF Page A

roar came a third time, and this time it was answered by one farther away. Sherra thanked all the gods she could think of that the answer was not on the island, nor was the island between the two creatures making that noise.
    Sherra wondered if this was a challenge or a mating call. It could be either. It could be both. There were creatures that began with a fight and ended in mating . . .
    Or perhaps these two beasts were simply defining their territories. Or even . . . talking. They exchanged bellows for a good long time without drawing any nearer to each other or to the island. Finally the nearest one ended with a series of heavy grunts, and both fell silent.
    :Do we dare fall asleep?: Vesily wondered, as the quiet that had descended on this part of the swamp at the beginning of the exchange now began to fill with frog chorus and insect noise.
    Sherra thought about that for a moment, and wondered if she ought to tell Vesily the cold truth—that if something that was as large and dangerous as that thing sounded decided to come after them, there wouldn’t be anything they could do about it.
    She decided against it.
    I am, she said, and yawned hugely on purpose. She loosened her arms from around the Companion’s neck and yawned again. Vesily was warm and soft, and made a much better pillow than the rucksack. Sherra decided not to move. Vesily didn’t make any objections, nor did she try to shove Sherra away. With the conscious decision that if something was going to eat her, Sherra wanted to be asleep when it did, she managed to drop back into slumber.
    Waking, as always, came swiftly, and just as the first light of pre-dawn made it possible to see. Or rather, would have, if the usual morning fog hadn’t accompanied the light. Sherra didn’t need to see, however; she crept away from Vesily without disturbing the Companion, and got her fishing line out of the holder in her rucksack. On hands and knees, she felt her way to the water’s edge, and cast the baited hook out as far as she could throw it. The fish were hungry; she was rewarded immediately with a bite. When she was sure the fish had taken the hook, rather than just the bait, she tugged sharply to set the hook, then slowly wound the line back in.
    It didn’t fight much, which told her it was a sluggish bottom-feeder. Somewhat to be expected out here. When she finally landed her prize, it was a barbelface. Not so bad; at least there were no scales to contend with. With no rock to beat its head against, she killed it with a swift bite, having a care for the spines.
    Then she used her short knife to remove its spines, and ate it. She preferred her fish cooked, especially barbel, but she could eat it raw. And raw, it was a safe source of moisture as well.
    The light had strengthened, though the fog showed no signs of thinning, when she made her way back to Vesily. The Companion was still asleep. Sherra busied herself with deepening the seep and collecting the same sorts of plants she had seen Vesily eating yesterday. When the Companion finally woke with a start, Sherra was ready to leave as soon as the Companion had eaten and drunk.
    :I shouldn’t have slept so long!: Vesily exclaimed.
    Sherra just shrugged. “You needed the rest, and the fog was too thick to travel in anyway. It is burning off now. By the time you are fed, we can go.”
    It was quite clear that Vesily’s sense of urgency had not abated in the least. She practically bolted her food; prepared for that impatience now, Sherra had her rucksack on and belted to her waist and had her staff out and extended before the Companion was finished.
    “Any change in direction, Lady?” Sherra asked.
    The Companion gave her an odd look, then raised her head—and began to pivot. A moment later she stopped. Sherra nodded; it had occurred to her that since Vesily’s goal was a person and not a place, things might have changed during the night. It looked as if her hunch was right.
    “Your quarry has moved,