mind, Indians had been telling tall tales of the wendigo. He probably believed them all.
He'd been left to take care of her. As if she needed a norm, even an enhanced one, for a babysitter. She probably could move through the forest better than he could. She was stronger, likely faster, and had certain supernormal advantages that not even the best cyber-ware could reproduce. What good was he, except as a local guide? Most likely he was supposed to keep her from eating any people she happened upon. Did Sam really think one razorguy could stop her?
The clearing had long since settled back into its nightly cycle of sound and activity before he moved. Leaving his spot near the tree he crossed the grass-silently, so silently that his steps did not disturb the raccoon come to investigate the satchel Sam had left. He squatted a half-dozen meters away. Did he know how well she could see him? 'I'm not exactly contagious, you know.' Her voice startled the raccoon, who fled. The razorguy showed no reaction save to rise and move closer. Two meters. Just beyond the distance she could reach without getting up. The razorguy had gauged her length of arm well. He remained silent.
'Nothing to say?' Nothing was what he said. She repeated her question in Japanese and Spanish, with no better result. This new irritation was just one more added to the experience of her trip. 'Can you even talk?'
Unspeaking, he stared at her. She decided she'd seen enough of him and turned her head away. Minutes passed and the raccoon approached again, dithering over whether to approach and make another attempt to investigate the intriguing satchel. It had just made up its mind when the Indian spoke and sent it scurrying off again.
'You are a shaman?'
Startled herself by his sudden speech, she answered simply and honestly. 'Yes.'
He was quiet for more minutes. When he spoke again, she was ready for the abruptness but not the content of his question.
'Is it true you follow Wolf?' 'Oh, you mean is Wolf my totem?' He nodded. Well, two could play at the laconic game. 'Yes,' she said.
Ghost grunted and stood up. 'It's a long way to Rainier. Sam said we have only the night for traveling. We should start.' 'What, no vehicle?' 'Too conspicuous.' 'And that plane wasn't?'
'A bribe to an air traffic controller makes it easy for a plane not to appear on a radar screen.' 'What about the noise?'
'People hear a plane in the night, they think nothing of it. It's in the sky, far away. A car or bike is much nearer and might bring unwelcome visitors. People pay attention. Wouldn't want to drive through the forest, though, even during the day. This terrain will turn good machines into spare parts.' 'So we walk.'
Ghost gave her a ragged grin. 'Run. If you can.' She rose to her feet. She smiled back, careful not to expose her fangs. 'Try and keep up. You're the one who's supposed to know where we're going.'
They set out. She started with a pace that would quickly tire a norm, but he kept up. His muscles moved in smooth, clean precision, pumping beneath his bronzed skin. The way he avoided trees and brush told her that he could see in the dark, too. After a while she slowed down. Weak from hunger, she wasn't in as good shape as she had thought. And without knowing how far they were to travel, she thought it best to conserve her strength.
After about an hour, they flushed a deer. It was a young buck, antler buds still in velvet. He rushed from their path and Janice sprinted after him, giving it no opportunity to get far. With a howl, she pounced and I bore the buck down with her weight. She bashed one of its forelimbs with a clenched paw, and felt the bones snap under her blow. The buck sounded his pain. Gripping one of the flailing hind limbs with one hand, she held the beast down with the other. A tug and a twist and she ripped its hind leg free.
The scent of hot blood filled her nostrils, followed by the warm, full scent of fresh meat. She sank her teeth in. The taste was weak and vaguely unpleasant, but it was food. She ripped another mouthful from the haunch.
The deer still struggled, trying to regain its feet, making itself bleed to death faster. Didn't it know enough to accept its fate? She chewed the hot flesh, feeling the juices slide down her parched throat.
She looked up from her meal. Ghost had caught up and was staring at her. 'Don't worry, man. It's just a deer.' His face remained expressionless and he said nothing.
Somehow, that made it worse. She threw down the haunch, stood, and walked away. At the base of a forest giant, she crouched again and leaned against the bole of the tree. She hugged her arms around herself. No, don'( worry, man. Leave that for me. Hunger gnawed at her, awakened by her brief, unsatisfying feast. Her stomach tightened into painful knots. All she could think about was Ghost's smooth muscles rippling as he ran. Like the deer. Too like the deer.
'Mr. Urdli. Mr. Walter Urdli. Please meet your party at Baggage Carousel Number Three.'
Urdli looked up in annoyance at the speaker calling his name. He was barely out of the runway from the monstrous aircraft that had carried him over the Pacific, and his stomach was still queasy. He hated air travel. He visited the rest room before going to the infoboard for directions to Baggage Carousel Three. The foolish machine insisted on giving him directions to Carousel Fifteen, asserting that his luggage would be arriving there. He circumvented the paternalistic thing by calling for a general map with routes to the baggage area.
The waiting space around Carousel Three was deserted except for two young elves, a dark-haired male and a fair-haired female. Though he had never seen either one before, they seemed to recognize him as he approached. That was not surprising. For all the elves in the crowd and all their variety of skin tone and shape, he was unique. Some had his dark skin color and some his thin build, but none had the combination or matched his height. Anyone who knew his physical description should be able to pick him out.
He greeted them in formal Sperethiel. Their responses were adequate, but they mismanaged the proper forms of address. Seeing them insufficiently versed in the old tongue to make conversation enjoyable, he switched to English. 'You are with the Council?' 'My name is Estios, sir. This is O'Connor. We are aides to Professor Sean Laverty.'
While considering the implications, Urdli looked them over. O'Connor was comely enough, he supposed, though he had never really cared for the northern phenotypes. Like her companion, she wore garb whose fine material was tailored to hide her weapons from one unaccustomed to scenting the metal. Both were well groomed, and the man wore his hair cut short to reveal his ears, as some of the current crop of males seemed fearful of doing. Estios was tall for a Cau-casoid elf, with the broad shoulders his kind developed in the course of mastering physical disciplines. Of course, the two of them would have hidden talents. Urdli inclined his head to meet the male's gaze.
'I am unaccustomed to dealing with inferiors. You will see to my luggage and take me to Laverty.'
Estios' expression remained polite, but a spark danced in his icy blue eyes. When he spoke, his voice remained calm and detached. The restraint pleased Urdli.
'Your luggage will be taken care of, sir. This is not my job. I was asked to inform you that the professor was unavoidably detained at the Royal Hill. He asked me to serve as your guide and to take you to the mansion, where he will join you as soon as possible. He thought that the most advisable course, since your message suggested discretion.'
Urdli shrugged off his topcoat. It was warmer here than Down Under. He handed it to the female, who took it without a word of protest. 'Then we shall leave this place.'
'There is a car waiting, sir.'
Urdli nodded. 'We will not be driving through the city, will we? I saw it through the window of the plane. It is much given over to human architecture.'
'Portland is a compromise, sir. The city houses most of the resettled human population of the former state of Oregon. Most of the buildings continue to provide for their needs. The High Prince's Council considers this a reasonable arrangement, for the norms provide an important work force in the industries necessary to maintain the city as a contact point between Tir Tairngire and the rest of the world. However, since the recent trade agreements with the city-state of Seattle, Portland's usefulness is declining. One day, the human presence may be eliminated completely, but for now the city remains a necessary evil.' 'I do not like it.'
Estios smiled coldly. 'I understand, sir. We can take a more roundabout route and avoid much of the urban area.' 'Do so.'
The trip to the mansion was quiet, almost peaceful, for Laverty's aides demonstrated minimal courtesy by offering no conversation once Urdli ignored their first few attempts. Estios was as good as his word. Urdli was not forced to see much of the ugly, squat human architecture.
The mansion itself was in the human style; Urdli had forgotten just how unattractive it was. Its only saving
