"All right," he laughed, and looked at the tery again, this time from a greater distance. "At least he's not a talker and not too ugly. Looks like a cross between a big monkey and some wiry breed of bear."
The tery disliked Dennel's tone but had to agree with the comparison. He was about the height of a man when he walked upright, although he much preferred to go on all fours. His hands were large, twice the size of a man's, and he was covered from head to toe with coarse black fur, short and curly everywhere except the genital area, where it grew long and straight.
"Talker?" Adriel said, glancing between Dennel and the tery.
"Sure. Some teries can be taught to speak, you know. I saw some with a traveling music troupe that came through the keep a few years ago. Some of them sang, some of them danced, and one even gave dramatic readings of poetry. But that was before Mekk declared them ‘unholy.'
"
"Really? Do you think maybe I could teach this one to talk?"
Dennel shook his head. "I doubt it. First of all, I've been told that you've got to start them young if you're going to have any success. And secondly, you have to be lucky and get one who can be taught. The degree of intelligence varies greatly from one to another."
"Oh," she said with obvious disappointment. "I thought I might have someone to talk to."
"They can't think, Adriel. At the very most, all they can do is mimic sounds. And I'm not so sure you'd want a talker around anyway. Some of them are so good you'd actually think they had a mind."
"I guess it would be a little frightening at that."
The tery could have destroyed Dennel's misinformed theories in an instant, for he was a "talker" and had no doubts about his ability to think. But he kept to himself. If these humans found the thought of a talking tery repugnant, how would they feel if they knew that this animal was listening in on their conversation and understanding every word? He needed them now — especially now — while he was wounded, alone, and helpless. He couldn't risk alienating them, so he remained silent.
Adriel sighed. "By the way, where does the word ‘tery' come from?
Now that she was considered one, she supposed she should know.
Dennel shrugged. "I haven't the faintest idea. As far as I know, they've always been called teries. The name probably originated during the Great Sickness."
Dennel excused himself and walked toward the front of the train. As the tery scrutinized the psi-folk around him, he began to understand Adriel's predicament. Glances would pass between individuals, someone would smile, another would laugh, but speech was used only on the pack animals to keep them moving.
A lonely girl indeed, this Adriel.
When the train halted at dusk, the tery was freed from the drag and allowed to take a few painful steps. At first his joints were stiff, his muscles tight and inelastic, but they gradually loosened. He walked in slow circles. It was good to be up and about again. His spirits rose, but not too far.
When he stopped moving, he noticed that only two of the larger wounds had started bleeding again, and those very little. Adriel had done an excellent job of cleaning and binding the wounds; his animal vitality would do the rest.
She appeared carrying two bowls. The sight of her smiling face warmed him.
"Hungry?" she said as he limped toward her.
He had been given small amounts of milk during the day but now received a portion of raw meat in the second bowl. He ate slowly this time, savoring the flavor of a fleet grazing animal called ma. They were extremely hard to catch and it occurred to him that there must be some good hunters among the psi-folk.
Adriel murmured soothingly and examined each one of his bandages as he ate.
"Looks like you're coming along fine. You'll be back to your old self in no time." She sobered. "Then I suppose you'll take off into the bush again. You don't have to go, you know. We'll treat you well here, really we will. You'll have food and shelter and a friend: me."
The tery considered this. #
Later, well fed and freshly bandaged, he followed Adriel to the community dining area but remained at a respectful distance, accepting the occasional table scraps the psi-folk offered him, almost enjoying the game of playing a dumb animal.
The progress of the meal, however, was an awe-inspiring sight: Bowls went in all directions, crisscrossing the table in dizzying patterns, hands reached and were filled, portions were dispensed into goblets and onto plates — all without a single word. Only Adriel's tiny voice and an occasional belch broke the silence.
When bellies were full, and the tables and pottery cleaned and cleared away, the group gathered around the central fire for what appeared to be some sort of conference. Adriel hung back, looking indecisive, unaccountably hesitant. Finally, after two or three deep breaths, she strode forward to where her father sat in silence. The big man smiled as she knelt beside him. The tery remained in the background at the perimeter of the firelight, watching, listening.
"We were just discussing the future," her father told her, "and it looks as if we'll be spending years in these forests."
He glanced sharply at Dennel, whose face flickered on the far side of the flames.
In Komak's eyes, the tery could almost read his message to the younger man: Haven't I asked you to use your tongue when my daughter is present? If not out of kindness, then at least out of courtesy.
Grudgingly Dennel spoke. "But you haven't given my idea due consideration, Komak. We could make ourselves very useful to Kitru — and to Overlord Mekk himself. Think of the intelligence network we could form for him. Why, he could know what was going on in any one of his provinces at any time."
"Spies for the Overlord?" someone shouted. "Never."
"Listen to me." Dennel said. "It could save us, and be beneficial to Mekk as well!"
"You're dreaming," Komak said. "Practicality can't touch Mekk these days. He's become a religious fanatic. The priests have poisoned him against anything that does not bear True Shape — and that now seems to include our minds. No, Mekk is unreachable, I'm afraid."
"What about Kitru?" Dennel said. "We could make him very powerful lord."
Komak shook his head. "Kitru fears Mekk and dares not disobey him. I should know after spending years as his advisor. Kitru is a cruel, venal, greedy man, hungry for power, but he's a coward where Mekk is concerned. He won't question a single aspect of the new extermination decree. In fact, he'll enforce it with a single-mindedness as fanatical as Mekk's, just to impress the Overlord."
"But we could be useful."
"You mean ‘used,' don't you?"
"No. We're humans. Citizens. We shouldn't be treated like teries! There has to be a way!"
"A man is only what he proves himself to be," Komak said with an abrupt note of finality. "Right now we're fleeing for our lives, but your alternative strikes me as worse. Should we prove ourselves to be slaves? Tools of a tyrant? I think not, even if he permitted us to live that long. We can only run for now, but Rab promised that someday we'd return — and on our own terms!"
Dennel snorted. "Rab! The mystery Talent."
"But where is Rab?" Adriel said. "The answer means more to me than the rest of you. Most of you heard from this man by way of the Talent. I have only second-hand knowledge — yet here I am in the middle of the forest, fleeing from everything I know. Where is he? I thought he was supposed to join us out here."
"He was," her father said. "I don't know what happened to him. It's quite possible he met with the very fate he warned us all against. If only we knew more about him, maybe we could learn if anything happened to him."
"I'm leery of this Rab," Dennel said. "Where did he get all his advance information? And why haven't we ever heard from him before?"
Komak shrugged. "I can't possibly answer those questions. Perhaps he comes from Mekk's fortress — maybe that's where he got his information. One thing we do know: his warning was timely and correct. Need I remind anyone of the slaughter we experienced second hand on the third night after fleeing the keep, the slaughter we might have experience first hand were it not for Rab?"
No one met his searching gaze.
"I'm still suspicious," Dennel said. "How did Rab manage to contact those who were not publicly known to possess the Talent? Adriel is the only Finder in the province…I fear a trap, Komak."
"Well, if there's a trap, Rab will have caught himself — because he contacted us via the Talent, which puts him on Mekk's extermination list along with the rest of us. And there is something you all should know: There are still a number of Talents hiding undiscovered in Kitru's keep."
Dennel gasped. "There are? How do you know?"