“Do the Matans hunt anywhere near that gorge?” Longbow asked. “I’m not trying to offend you, Dahlaine, but hunters pay very close attention to the terrain of the place where they hunt.”
Dahlaine shook his head. “The Matans wouldn’t hunt down there in those mountains,” he said. “They hunt bison, not deer, and the bison prefer open grassland.”
“I think I might know someone who could help us, uncle,” the little boy Ashad said. “Long-Claw spends a lot of time down there when the fish are running.”
“Who’s Long-Claw?” Eleria asked.
“He’s my brother,” Ashad replied.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to help you, Ashad,” Yaltar said a bit dubiously.
“I was talking about my other brother,” Ashad said. “He and I sort of grew up in Mama Broken-Tooth’s cave.”
“Who’s Mama Broken-Tooth?” Rabbit asked curiously.
“She’s the one who fed me when I was a baby.”
“One of the women from the local village, then?”
Ashad laughed. “I wouldn’t exactly call her a woman, Rabbit,” he said. “That might offend her, and you don’t really want to do that. She gets very bad-tempered sometimes, but that’s only natural, I suppose. Grouch is part of her nature.”
“Just exactly what is she?” Rabbit asked.
“A bear, of course,” Ashad said. “Bears are just about the best mothers in the whole world.”
“Were you crazy, Lord Dahlaine,” Sorgan Hook-Beak demanded in a shrill voice. “You actually handed a new-born infant off to a bear? You’re lucky she didn’t have him for breakfast.”
“Quite the contrary, Captain Hook-Beak,” Dahlaine said. “Ashad was right. Bears are very close to the best mothers in the world. Their milk is very rich, and they teach their cubs—or children—how to find berries to eat, and how to swat fish out of mountain streams, and, when the cubs misbehave, the mama bear spanks them to make them mind their manners. A mother bear will also tear anybody—or anything—apart if it tries to hurt her cubs. They’re extremely protective.”
“But Ashad wasn’t really her cub,” Sorgan protested.
“She thought he was, and that’s all that mattered to her. Look at it this way, Captain. If a human child has a mother who stands ten feet tall, weighs close to a thousand pounds, has claws that are long and sharp, and teeth that are even longer and sharper, that child doesn’t have a thing in the world to worry about, wouldn’t you say?”
“It just seems so unnatural,” Sorgan protested.
“Don’t think about it, then.”
“I’ll go see if I can find Long-Claw, uncle,” Ashad said. “I’m sure he’ll be able to tell us all kinds of things about that Crystal Gorge place.” Then the boy turned and left the map-chamber.
“This ‘plague that’s not really a plague’ concerns me, my brother,” Zelana said after Dahlaine’s Dreamer had left. “That sort of suggests a poison of some kind, wouldn’t you say?”
“It’s possible, I suppose,” Dahlaine conceded, “but wouldn’t that be just a bit sophisticated for the creatures of the Wasteland?”
“Using weapons that aren’t a part of their own bodies is sophisticated, Dahlaine,” Zelana reminded him. “The servants of the Vlagh are moving much faster than we’d expected, so we’d better start thinking fast, or they’ll outrun us. I’m also starting to catch a strong odor of ‘tampering’ again. If I understood what you told us earlier, the crazy man in Atazakan has started to do things that an ordinary crazy wouldn’t do. Ordinary crazies develop a certain routine, and it never changes. Going outside every morning and afternoon to give the sun her marching orders should fill his whole day, but quite suddenly he’s decided to invade his neighbors, and that doesn’t fit at all. Somebody—or something—is changing his obsession, wouldn’t you say?”
“Why don’t I have Ox sharpen his axe?” Sorgan suggested. “It sort of sounds to me like maybe it’s ‘whomp’ time again.”
“It probably would solve some problems, Dahlaine,” Zelana agreed, “and Ox is probably one of the best whompers available to us.”
“I think another problem just came through the door,” Sorgan’s cousin Torl said in an alarmed tone of voice.
Omago turned quickly and stared at the hairy animal that was shambling along beside Dahlaine’s Dreamer.
“This is my brother, Long-Claw,” Ashad announced. “He’s agreed to tell us everything he knows about that gully down in the mountains, and he won’t eat anybody here, so you don’t have to worry very much.”
The huge bear stood up on his hind feet, and Omago was stunned by the enormous size of the creature.
Ara, however, didn’t seem to be the least bit afraid of the monster. She strolled around the balcony and held out her hands to the shaggy animal.
Long-Claw sniffed at her hands, and then she rather fondly scratched the huge bear’s ears and petted him. He nuzzled at her in response. They seemed to be getting along quite well, but Omago wished that Ara wouldn’t stand quite so close to the huge beast.
Ashad began to make growling sounds, and the bear squinted down over the balcony railing at Dahlaine’s map. Then he shook his head and rumbled something to the little boy.
“He can’t see it well enough,” Ashad said. “His eyes aren’t very good, so I’ll have to take him on down there so that he can see it better.”
“We’ll watch from up here, Ashad,” Dahlaine said.
“It might be better that way, uncle. Long-Claw’s not really very comfortable around people.” He led his shaggy brother on out into the hall-like tunnel beyond the balcony, and in a few moments, the two of them came out onto the lumpy map below. They went on down to the part of the imitation where the mountains were and growled and rumbled at each other for quite some time.
“Uncle,” Ashad called, “Long-Claw tells me that this upper part of the streambed is sort of crumbly. I don’t think you’d want to build this fort-thing there.”
“Go on down a ways, Ashad,” Dahlaine called. “We’ll need solid ground if we’re going to build a fort.”
“Right,” Ashad agreed. Then he growled at his bear, and they went a ways farther on down the imitation valley. Then they stopped and growled at each other for a while.