Nay, we mate not actually now. She be not in heat; she be too young for that.
Then don’t mate with her! Just keep moving out!
But we must needs commit. There be a ceremony. It must be done properly, so that the naming be legitimate.
Nepe was exasperated. Such a complication had never occurred to her, and in truth she was somewhat jealous of the manner his society allowed him to step into an adult emulation so young. But if there was any hope that this would enable him to win free on his own—
They went through their ceremony of Commitment. It was, it seemed, somewhat like a betrothal. When Sirel achieved her first heat, in perhaps two years, Barel would be the one she sought for her maiden mating. Other males would respect that, knowing she was pledged. Thus their initiation into full adult status would be mutual. Never again thereafter would they mate with each other; it would be a rite of passage, not a breeding or permanent association.
In due course the two other wolves were willing to bear witness that a Commitment had occurred. Flach could now adopt Si as his final syllable, and Sirel could adopt Ba as hers. Thus they were Barelsi and Sirelba, each with another syllable to be inserted third when their kills were recognized by the Pack. Oath-friends and first mates—it was a significant occasion for them both. Henceforth they would be considered borderline adult, though some leeway for growing would be allowed. In the frame of Proton, the equivalent would be called adolescence.
But we must needs carry our kills back to the Pack, Flach thought. Otherwise—No! Nepe protested. You must get far away!
Then Flach saw a dragon flying, pursuing what appeared to be a great circle around the region where the Pack was camped. This was not normal behavior for a dragon; obviously it was acting as an agent for the Adepts. Any wolf who strayed too far would be a target of suspicion.
Nepe was ready to throw things at walls, but she had to concede that normal wolf behavior was in order. They had to head home to the Pack.
Darkness closed before they reached it. This was a decent pretext to halt and camp. Flach and Sirelba shared their rabbits with the other two, saving the pelts and skeletons for evidence. Then the four settled down to sleep.
But by morning the Adept party was at the wolf camp. Nepe learned this when Mach sent the message; they had moved quickly in order to prevent any wolves from departing. Flach could not return.
He explained this to the others. “Then we will help thee flee,” Sirelba growled in wolf talk. “We will lead the pursuit astray so that thou canst get free.”
But it would take more than that. Flach knew the powers of his father, and realized that no simple diversion would suffice. They would all four shortly be captive. Now we must exchange, Nepe said with regret. Now we must needs exchange, Flach agreed. We shall assume human form, for I doubt thou canst be a wolf.
Flach concentrated and sang a spell of exchange. Nepe simply willed herself into Phaze and into his body. They had never tried this before, but both knew how their fathers did it; they had tuned in on the patterns of magic and concentration many times, and knew them well. They imitated those patterns.
Nepe suffered vertigo. Then she stumbled and almost fell.
She was in human form, standing under a tree in the company of three other children of her age. All were clothed, and so was she; that started her, until she realized that it was the way of Phaze. One was a lovely dark-haired girl; another was a tawny-haired girl; and the third was a shaggy brown-haired boy. The first girl would be Sirelba, the second Terel, and the boy Forel.
“I am Nepe,” she said as she recovered her equilibrium.
“We know,” Sirelba said. “But we shall call thee Barelsi, that thy nature be not betrayed in speech. What be thy ruse for escape?”
Nepe gazed around, still awed by her success. This really was Phaze! “Are we private?”
“Aye. We be beyond the range of yon dragon, and we can sniff hostile magic when it intrudes. But we know not how long before the net closes. Needs must we act soon, ere the magic come.”
Nepe knew that the three were oath-friends to Flach, and that they would never betray him. But she had a reservation. “You know that Flach—I mean Barelsi—was never one of your kind. Can your Oaths of Friendship be binding?”
“They be binding,” the girl assured her. “Species matters not. Many o’ this Pack be oath-friend to Neysa Unicorn.”
“And your Commitment—how can it be honored if you help Barelsi get away, and he hides elsewhere and you never see him again?”
“I will wait till he come to me,” Sirelba said simply. “An he can, he will come. An he can not, I will seek him.”
“What if he is dead?”
“I will avenge him.”
“As will we,” Terel said. “As he would for us.”
Nepe was impressed. “How do you feel about him? I mean, I know you made an oath, but you must have some private impressions.”
“I love him,” Sirelba said. “Ne’er could we be lifemates, because we be counted as from the same packlet; we must breed outside it. So I glean o’ him what I can: first mating.
An he die ere it be done, our other oath-friend Forel will do it. An I die, Terel will fill for me. But I would die for him regardless. He be the best male o’ my generation I know, though he be not true wolf.”
“But I am not he. What of me?”
“Thou dost be his other self. We help thee as we help him. Canst thou save his body from capture?”
“I hope so. But I will need your closest cooperation.”
“Thou willst have it. What—”
Sirelba paused, and the other two reacted similarly. “The net!” Forel whispered.
“Stay close!” Nepe said. “I must do magic, and I’ve never done it before!” Then she chanted:
O Fog and O Smoke
The curse o’ Proton-frame—
Pollution invoke
That we may play a game!
Immediately there was a stirring in the air, as of a storm forming. It was working! She had known it should, but feared it would not. There was no storm; instead it was more like a dust devil stirred up by a gust across a dry plain. The effect expanded rapidly, rising to cloud the sky and spreading to include the small group.
“Drop to the ground!” Nepe cried. “Breathe through the turf! Keep your eyes closed until it thins!” She made an example by flinging herself down and burrowing her face into the ground.
The others stood for a moment bemused. Then the swirling black vapors caught them, and they broke into paroxysms of coughing. Suddenly they understood: this was poison! They got down and sought the filtration of the natural soil, while the foul cloud washed over them.
It took some time for the awful fog to thin. Finally Nepe sat up. Her eyes were bleary and her breathing labored, but she could handle it, having known what to expect. “It will ease gradually,” she gasped. “Now we must arrange our escape.”
Forel roused himself. “But the net!” He coughed, then recovered. “They watch!”
She smiled. “Not any more. I made a spell of magic pollution; we experience only the peripheral effects.”
“The what?”
She realized that young werewolves would not be exposed to the technical terms of Proton technology. “What we feel is at the edge, and is weak; what is at the center is strong, and that is the pollution—the smoke and fog—that obscures magic. I learned this spell from the Oracle, who put it out on general information at the behest of Citizen Blue. That way I could learn it without giving away my hiding place. It seemed a pointless exercise at the time, and few people even noticed; Blue does crazy things every so often, like making public love in vats of green gelatin. I knew he hoped I would find use for it, and now I have. No magic net can spy on us now—not until the fog clears.”
Forel nodded, smiling. “What makes us cough, gives the Adepts a real illness!”
“Close enough. Now under this cover we must act. They will be checking each creature who
seeks to leave this region. I must be of a form they will not suspect.”
“But canst thou change forms as Barelsi could? He knew man, wolf, bat and ‘corn, and in secret worked on others he dared not assume lest he be discovered. Likewise he dared not do magic, though he be talented in it.”
“He worked on ogre, dragon and harpy forms,” she agreed. “And cloud magic. He thought to infiltrate the enemy ranks, where they would not suspect. But he knew that the net would catch him in the change, so he didn’t dare. But no, I can not change forms; my mother Agape was here once, and it took her a long time and much mischief to change forms. I know better than to try. The Adepts will check all creatures anyway, and know who is not natural. That was why Barelsi knew he was trapped.”
Sirelba had roused herself and become somewhat acclimatized to the choking environment. “Harpy form? But he be male!”
“Perhaps you natural form changers are confined to the same sex. We are not sure that holds for Adept form changers. Barelsi wanted to try the harpy form and see whether it was possible. NOW that we have exchanged minds, I believe it is possible, for I am a female mind in his body. Only the natural body is fixed; the others can be adapted for size and appearance, and I think sex would be one of the options. But that is not the point: had he so changed, the net would have caught the flare of magic, and the Adepts would have known.”
“Mayhap,” Sirelba agreed, awed.
“Now, with the pollution spell, such form changes can not be accomplished. The enemy would have caught the flare of my spell, but its very nature quickly made that useless. The three of you must not try to resume your wolf forms; the spell would interfere, and you might get into serious trouble. So we must change our forms another way.”
“Another way?” Terel asked, the last to rouse herself. Her eyes were streaming; the pollution was affecting her worse.
“Makeup. We need clay, or something similar. Something that can be molded, and will dry in place and keep its shape.”
“There be fish-nest lining in the nearby stream,” Forel said. “It be much like clay, and holds its shape, but ne’er dries out completely. It be flesh-colored. Would that do?”
“Excellent! We must go there immediately.”
They led her to the stream, uncertain what she had in mind. The water was clear, and the pollution was less intense near it; Terel lay down beside it and found some relief.
“Now we must convert this body to female, and one of you girls to male,” Nepe said, undressing.
“Bitches,” Sirelba said.
“What?”
“We be bitches. Female wolves.”
“Oh. Yes. Do you see the nature of this ruse?”
“They will catch and hold the males, not the bitches!” Sirelba exclaimed. “They will let these pass!”
“Yes. Unable to verify us magically, they will do it physically; Two males, two females—by the time they realize their error, I should be past their net.” She frowned. “But there may be danger. When they learn that they have been deceived—”
“A wolf lives by danger,” Forel said bravely, and the two bitches agreed. “We shall decoy them, and deceive them, and take the consequence. They can not be too cruel, for our Pack would react.”
“The hair!” Sirelba exclaimed. “Thy hair be dark, like mine; thou canst not pass for Terel.”
Nepe nodded. “Good point. You and I must exchange appearances.”
They went to it. They packed fish-nest lining about their crotches, masking their genitals. Nepe’s masculine appendage had to be folded down and covered, while Sirelba required an artificial appendage. Forel had great fun shaping it for her, to her embarrassment. Wolves were open about natural functions, but this reversal of roles was a new experience for the bitch.
“But watch out how thou pissest!” he said.
That made Nepe pause. “Can we make it possible? We may be many hours in these disguises. Something like that could ruin everything!”
They discussed it, and concluded that it was best to do it artfully. They poked a thin stick through the clay, and drew it out as the substance set. This left a channel, so that Sirelba would be able to urinate through it, carefully, if she had to. They made a similar channel in Nepe’s clay, slanting from the tip of her penis to the appropriate site on the surface. “But watch out that thou dost not get a boner!” Forel warned.
Nepe wasn’t sure what he meant, but a moment’s reflection clarified the reference. It would be very awkward, perhaps even a fatal complication (one that would give her away), if her penis were to change its shape while the clay was on, and break out of its confinement. She understood that this could happen involuntarily; she hoped that this would not occur in the next few hours.
By the time the job was done, and the fish-clay had solidified, they were well into night. They were tired, but could not afford to rest. The escape had to be accomplished by dawn, because sunlight would dissipate the pollution spell.
They made hasty plans, then set out.
Forel went east, Terel went south, and Nepe and Sirelba went west. Since the Pack camp was north, they were fleeing it. They knew this would bring suspicion on them, but since they also knew that the Adepts were sure Flach was here, this made no difference.
They followed the major trails. There really wasn’t much choice, when they were in a hurry, because traveling by night was dangerous anywhere else. The trails were cleared, so that they could readily sniff and hear lurking predators, and they could travel much more swiftly on them. Their human bodies were ill adapted to hurry through uncharted brush, but competent enough for the trails.
They knew that all the wolves would be heading in to the Pack for the assembly required, by the Adepts. But the presence of the pollution fog would be signal enough of their attempt to escape. All the trails leading out from the origin of the cloud would be watched, probably by the Adept party, not trusting any other creatures to do the job. Three members, three escaping trails: one to each. The Robot Adept, whose travel magic would remain despite the fog, would take the others to two of the trails, and would guard the third himself.
It was in fact like a Proton Game, Nepe thought. She had to guess which trail was safest, and Flach’s father Mach had to guess which one Nepe would choose. The odds favored her: she had two chances in three to be on the trail that the robot did not check. Because Mach would know her; he was too clever to be deceived by her ruse. If he intercepted her, she was lost. But if one of the others intercepted her, she could escape. Flach had been a werewolf for four years, and had the werewolf look and smell; Fleta would hardly know him now, and Tania would know him only by description. In a pressure situation, one of those two was liable to make a mistake. The odds might be two to one in favor of such an error.
Nepe understood the dynamics of chance, because it was integral to the Proton Game. Two chances in three of getting a foolable interceptor; two chances in three of fooling that person. That figured to four or five ninths of a chance to get free, depending on the system. About even. The odds overall were not ideal, but they were a lot better than what otherwise offered. That was the best she could do for Flach.
Now, as she hurried with Sirelba along the path, she contacted her other self. Flach! Are you ready to exchange back?
Aye! Anytime! This frame mystifies me!
Stay alert. Once I win free, you must return, because you can change forms as I can not.
As dawn approached, the fog was thinning; she knew she had to complete her ploy before day took over, because it depended on the presence of the fog that fuzzed out the magic of the others. The sooner the better, for this confrontation!
Then, abruptly, it came: a cloaked figure stood athwart the path. Which one was it?
“You know what to do,” she said to Sirelba.
“Aye.”
They slowed as they approached the figure. It was Tania! Nepe felt the thrill of incipient victory.
Then Sirelba broke from the path, scrambling through t
he rough brush, heedless of the scratches. Tania turned to face her. Nepe felt the surge of magic as the Evil Eye manifested. Sirelba stumbled and fell.
“Nay!” Nepe cried, running toward Tania. “Spare him, Adept! I love him! We be promised first mates!” Tania walked toward the fallen figure.
Nepe pursued. “Take me instead, Adept! Whatever he has done, I will redeem! I beg thee!”
Tania turned and peered at Nepe. The woman’s eyes in the dusk of the night seemed to glow. Suddenly Nepe understood the power of those eyes; they were seeing right through her!
Then the woman resumed her focus on Sirelba. She squatted beside the body and poked at the clothing. “Aye, this be the male, and dark,” she murmured. “This be he, at last.”
“Nay!” Nepe cried, and such was her animation in the tension of this role that she really was crying; tears were flowing. “He be nothing to thee! Oh, let him go, Adept!”
Sirelba stirred. “Get away from here, girl,” she rasped. “You will only antagonize her.”
“Good advice, bitch,” Tania said.
Nepe backed away. “Ne’er will I forget thee, my Promised!”
Then, feigning reluctance, she turned and walked on along the path. The final ploy had worked. She had gotten past!
When she was safely out of sight, she thought to her other self again. Flach! Now exchange—and get far gone from here!
They made their joint effort, and again Nepe felt the disorientation. Then she was back in her robotic body in Proton.
She had done it! She had exchanged, and used her one spell, and her ability to act like what she was, a girl, and had sprung Flach from the trap! Meanwhile Flach had been secure here, unsuspected.
Suddenly she was very tired. She slept.
Some time later Flach called: Nepe, our fathers be communicating now; we can talk.
Where are you? she asked joyfully.
With Phoebe Harpy. She be independent now, though her Flock aligns with the Adepts, and will betray me not. I be in harpy form. They will ne’er look for me here!
I’m so glad, Flach! But what of Sirelba? She decoyed for us—