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DUN’S WAR BAND HAD fought well, although six of them had gone out and only he and Kaj turned back toward camp. They had taken down one of the dreadful steam pipes, which was where they lost the last of the Stone-folk guards in a valiant attack on four troops, and then fought their way to the platform holding up the catapult or whatever it was hurling rocks. They used one of the longer Stone-folk spears from their fallen comrade to lever up one of the platform legs and discovered that the whole thing was built in haste, as it came crashing down in a cloud of steam and swearing. Bruised but laughing, they ran away, until they heard the long thin horn that signaled a retreat for the Duchy. Faint cheers sounded from the direction of the Under-folk camp. They slowed to a walk from there, meandering in and out of the churned-up mess of the battlefield.
Kaj stopped suddenly, a hand on Dun’s arm. “Over there, toward Gantrytown.”
Where she indicated, from over and through the massive Gantrytown barricade swarmed folk, spreading out onto the battlefield. As sure as he could be, Dun thought the spies from the Under-folk camp had said the Gantry-folk had agreed to be neutral, under pain of death from the Bureaucrat. There was certainly an armies’ worth of them, if they decided to fight on the Bureaucrat’s side they’d be in trouble. But they didn’t seem to be behaving like an army. Not like they were fighting at all. Stopping in small groups here and there and what?
“First aid?” Kaj said, thinking similar thoughts.
“Maybe.” Dun crouched on his haunches, trying to concentrate through his tiredness.
As the Gantrytown army approached slowly Dun heard voices drifting across the cavern. Industrious, busy, urgent, but not a war band. Who then?
“We should go,” Kaj said.
“I wanna know what this lot are up to,” Dun said.
“Suit yourself. I’m gonna go back to what’s left of the camp and report it.”
“Be there soon.”
“‘Kay.”
Dun sat still to better hear the distant voices. He was certain they had no ill intentions by the time they got close enough for him to properly hear the conversation.
“Another one here!” That voice was very close. Dun thought he must be tired to not hear someone creeping up on him. And it wasn’t like this lot were particularly trying to be stealthy. It was one of the things that gave them away as not soldiers.
“Don’t touch, I’ll be across in ten clicks, got a bleeder here to stabilize first.” That voice sounded farther away, but oddly familiar.
The nearer voice started whistling to himself. Grimly cheerful. Dun liked that. Reminded him of... Ah, now the other voice was closer. Padg. Of course, Padg. Something made Dun wait and hunker down.
“Okay, I’m here. What’ve we got?” Padg said.
“Female, young, severe burns. Can’t detect a pulse or breath sounds, but she’s warm to the touch.”
“Let me check,” Padg said. “Wait.”
“Should I get a bearer team?” the whistler said. “Padg?”
“I said WAIT!”
“Okay, keep your fur on.”
Time clicked by. Dun felt shivery, although the cavern was warm enough.
“No,” Padg said.
“What?” the whistling companion said. “She’s dead, right?”
“No.” Padg knelt down.
“She’s not dead? I don’t understand.”
“Shut. Up.”
“Okay, touchy, I was only-”
“Leave me!” A brief silence, and then in a gentler voice, Padg said, “Go and see if Laly needs any help; she was heading over to the lake.”
“Right.” The whistler shuffled off in silence.
Dun’s feet had already carried him to Padg. He knelt down next to him and placed a hand on his back.
“Tali,” Dun said. It wasn’t a question. “How?”
“Damned steam pipes.”
“Gods no.” A horrible way to go. “But she’s still... warm.”
“She’s gone, Dun.”
“She might not be, if...” Dun trailed off into silence.
“Oh, gods,” Padg said. “You’re not talking to him, are you? Let her go.”
“I thought you believed in all that?” Dun said.
“I’m not sure what I believe in anymore.”
“But if we’re quick...”
“Dun, we’ve lost her.”
Then a long deep trumpet note sounded. A warning that the battle was due to recommence.
“You should go, take her back to the camp,” Padg said. “Somebody should let Amber know. And you’re the Shaman.”
“What about you?” Dun said.
“I’ve got a score to settle,” Padg said.
Dun lifted his friend and started walking. He felt the scant weight of her body in his arms and pressed his nose into the bundle of her clothes. It was uniquely Tali: lavender, vinegar, and girl sweat. It was difficult to smell clearly as his nose was filling with snot. What was it Padg said? Take her to the camp. Yes, he should do that. He wiped his nose on his arm and then regretted it. His feet carried him on.
“I can’t put you down and now my arms all wet,” he said.
He lifted his head and twitched. Even with whiskers covered in snot, he could Air-sense enough to know he was not at the camp. Not at all. A huge sheer metal wall was so close to him he almost walked into it. The hab wall then. But where?
Screaming brought Dun back to himself and told him exactly where he was. That unique charging scream of a battlefield cry. A charge to arms. He stood alongside the main door up into the Bureau and troops were streaming out. He flattened himself against the wall as best he could and hoped the fact that they were all fired up and running the wrong way past him would effectively hide him.
He stood stock still, holding his breath until the roar of the soldiers had long passed. Then, before he knew what he was doing, he was climbing the stairs to the Bureau and heading along the corridor that took him to the Sanctuary and OneLove.
