See Prologue (A) for Disclaimers

Chapter Six

Dar walked ahead of the group, his eyes checking the ground and trees ahead for any possible dangers.  He could feel Sharak somewhere high above them, over the canopy of the trees.  Ruh shadowed them to his left, loping calmly through the thick undergrowth, but Dar could feel his tight-wound energy.  The tiger was enjoying himself.

Dar smiled and glanced down at the pouch hanging by his hip.  Kodo and Podo looked out from it, peering about eagerly.  Kodo was curious; Podo was just hungry.   We shoulda sneaked some food at the tavern, the gluttonous ferret sighed.   Dar, I told you we shoulda -- didn't I tell you we shoulda?

Oh shush, Kodo snapped.  He nudged the other ferret sharply with his chin.

But --

Don't say it.

--I'm huuuungryyy!!

Kodo nudged him again, this time harder, practically pushing him back down into the pouch.   If I have to hear one more time about you being hungry. . .!  You're always hungry!  I get hungry, but do I keep telling everyone about it?  No!  Bright black eyes looked upwards at Dar, who was struggling not to laugh.   Dar, do I?  Do I?  Dar bit the inside of his cheek and shook his head, carefully tamping down the shields on his outgoing thoughts so the ferret couldn't feel his amusement.   See!  I don't!  So would you please, for five blessed minutes---

Kodo stopped abruptly, his head craning back snakelike as he peered up past Dar, into the trees.   Um, Podo?

Podo's head popped back out of the pouch warily.   What?  If you're gonna hit me . . .  Kodo motioned upwards with his chin.  Podo followed his gaze and blinked.   Oh.  Ohhh.  Um . . . Dar?  Um . . .

Stop, Kodo told the human.

"What?"

STOP!!!

Dar winced as both ferrets "shouted," but he stopped.  Behind him, he heard Tao and Miren catching up and starting to ask what was going on.  Dar looked up to search the foliage for what had caught the ferrets' attention, and found it coming down rather swiftly towards them.  He jumped back instinctively, flinging his arms out to push Tao and Miren behind him.  He had an impression of a lot of pale skin, then something hit the ground with a painful grunt and  thud!.  Dar looked down at where he might have been standing in a couple of seconds.  He blinked.  Then he blinked again.  It was still there.

Or rather, he was still there.  A tall, well-proportioned, unconscious, quite nude he.  The man looked to be in his late twenties, perhaps early thirties. Gold-colored feathers flecked with spots of black nestled at his temples and above his ears.  Black hair was cropped short about his strong-boned face, matching the straight black brows and the dark hair on his chest, arms and legs.  And other parts.  Dar stared at him, too stunned to even move.

Leaves shuffled on either side of Dar as Tao and Miren took a step closer and looked down as well.  Silence reigned for a long moment, then a throat cleared and Tao's voice said faintly, "Um . . . Dar?"

". . .Yeah?"

". . ."

Dar nodded, still staring.  "Yeah," he agreed.

This time the throat that cleared was Miren's.  "So . . . should we . . . see if he's all right?"

Dar blinked looked at her and nodded, glad for something to focus on.  "Yeah."  He convinced his limbs to unfreeze and moved forward, kneeling by the strange man.

Kodo and Podo stuck their heads out of the pouch as Dar and Tao checked the man over.  His pulse was erratic but strong -- strangely so, considering the distance he seemed to have fallen.  Ruh was approaching now, equally confused.

"His arm and leg are broken," Tao said, arranging the blanket over the man's still form.

"Some of his ribs, too," Dar added.  "And there's blood on the back of his head . . ."

The BeastMaster was frowning; Tao nodded.  "A fall like that should have killed him.  Why didn't it?"

"And where did he come from?" Miren asked.  "Sharak would have seen someone in the trees, wouldn't he?"

Dar shook his head.  "Not necessarily, but . . ."  He looked up, concentrating his thoughts into a call.  Silence answered him.  Frowning, Dar tried again, but there was no reply from the eagle.  "Something's wrong," he murmured.  Fear clenched his heart.  "Sharak's not answering."

Tao frowned.  "Maybe he's too far away . . .?"

Dar shook his head.  "No, he couldn't have gone that far.  And I should be able to sense him even if he were unconscious . . .  It's as if he's . . . gone."

His blood chilled as he spoke the words.  Tao and Miren's concerned looks didn't help, nor did the anxiety he felt from the remaining animals.  Dar remembered the warrior Umpatra, how she had taken his animals one by one, while he had been helpless to stop it.   Not again, he swore to himself.

"Everyone stay close," he said aloud, and repeated the command mentally to Ruh and the ferrets.  "Something is happening here, and this man might have some clue about it."

Miren nodded.  "So we wait for him to wake before we go any further."

Dar nodded.  He wanted to be angry at the unconscious man, but he couldn't manage it.  After all, the stranger was hurt -- surely if he was a threat to them, he would not have taken such a tumble.  Dar got ahold of his anxiety; there was nothing to be done until the man woke up.  It ended up taking the better part of an hour, but finally the thick black lashes fluttered and hazel eyes opened.  They were unfocused, however, a sure sign of concussion.  Dar, Tao and Miren waited patiently.

The man looked at Dar and blinked a few times, then suddenly tried to sit up.  All three travelers tried to get him to lie back down, urging him to take it easy.  He obeyed, perspiration beading his brow from pain and exertion, but kept trying to marshal his thoughts for coherent speech.  Finally, it worked.  "Dar . . .," he rasped out.

The BeastMaster blinked, exchanging a startled look with Tao and Miren.  "How do you know my name?" he asked.

The man swallowed and spoke again, his voice still unsteady.  He managed to say "Sharak . . ."

The travelers frowned at him.  "What do you know of him?" Dar demanded.

The man shook his head weakly, clearly fighting not only the disorientation of a concussion but pain from his broken bones.  He tried to speak again, but it seemed too much at the moment, for his eyes started to roll back.  Miren shook her head.  "He needs to rest.  He'll make himself worse, trying to talk now."

Dar's jaw clenched, but he acknowledged the point.  As Miren gently settled the man's head back down, smoothing back his hair with a soothing murmur, Dar stood and walked a few steps away.  Tao stood as well, casting a glance back at the stranger, and followed his friend.  "I'm sure Sharak is all right," he said.  "Hey, maybe he just flew ahead to his friend and, um, got distracted, you know?"

Dar shook his head.  "No.  Something's happened."  And it's my fault -- somehow, his eyes added silently.

Tao sighed.  "We'll find him, Dar," he said gently.

Dar nodded, but there was no belief in his eyes.  Tao sighed and placed his hand on his friend's shoulder.  He had seen that haunted look before, each time they came painfully close to finding and saving Kyra, only to lose her again.  Dar was strong, but even the strongest of wills could eventually break.  And right now, Tao feared Dar was preciously close to breaking.  He had lost his tribe, lost his family, lost his betrothed, and now he may have lost one of his oldest remaining friends.  Sharak had been a teacher as well as a friend: the blow was doubly harsh if dealt true.

"We'll find him," Tao repeated, willing the other man to believe him.  Dar smiled without warmth or conviction.

~*~*~*~

Pain.

Darkness.

And more pain.

Gods, when had he last felt so much pain?

Sharak groaned, forcing himself to think past the agony that screamed through his body.  Forced himself to concentrate, to form the sentences in his mind, put them into words.  But that was the true problem, wasn't it?  Words.  He was no longer used to voicing them; his conversation with the Ancient One had been facilitated by magick, because the spirit wanted answers.  But now there was no magick to aid him, only the blasts of pain every time he moved his arm or leg, every time he breathed.  Gods but it was difficult to  think. . .

"Easy," a soft, young voice told him.  "Take your time.  Let the pain ebb."

Sharak forced his eyes to open.  Still dizzy, his vision still blurred a bit, but it was a little easier now than it had been before.  How long before?  How much time had passed since the first time he woke?

"Not long," the girl's voice continued, perhaps reading his expression.  "Just a few minutes.  We've splinted your arm and leg, but there's not much we can do for your ribs."

Sharak turned his gaze towards her and slowly things pulled into focus.  The girl.  Miren.  She looked . . . different to his human eyes.  The color of her hair, her eyes, even her skin, all seemed different somehow.  He'd forgotten that change in view, texture, sound, smell.  Sharak tried to smile.  It was not as difficult, but it had been so long . . .  There, that stretching of muscles about his mouth, that was a smile, wasn't it?  Miren blinked and smiled softly at him.  He took that as a sign of his success.  Motion at the corner of his eye and he turned his gaze away from the girl to look up . . .  His sight swam briefly and he fought it with every scrap of his considerable will.

The man that came to kneel beside them was clad only in a leather loincloth and boots, sunlight arrowing through the thick foliage to dance in his hair.  He also looked different, but Sharak felt a wave of relief seeing him.  "Dar," he said again.

This time, as the first, Dar frowned.  "You know me," he said, his voice hard.  "You know Sharak . . ."

The shapeshifter smiled wryly.  "I  am Sharak," he corrected.

(continued)

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