Refugees

  Chapter 15

  Grass - Metlan

  As the net lifted him out of the council chamber, Metlan felt good about his fate. Although he was a blindfolded captive being shuttled high in the forest, far from his tribe, he felt proud that he had handled himself well. So far his plan was working. Although he didn’t like to admit it to himself, deep down inside he knew that he was trying to prove something to his father, who had never seemed to have time for him. He wondered if his father would even send anyone to look for him, or would he just give him up for dead? Anyone could see that the only way to penetrate this forest was as a spy from the inside. The scouts running around the perimeter looking for a weakness might as well be target practice for the fliers in the trees high above. His tribe’s perception of the fliers had been badly off the mark. When he had first seen them up close, he had been stunned to see their very human faces.

  His thoughts were interrupted every now and then by his net slowing and being rerouted in another direction. Periodically he would be unloaded from one line to the next. This was a little unnerving, especially since he couldn’t see, but it did not frighten him. In fact, it had been much more frightening when he traveled like this the first time, since he was so far above the forest floor that looking down made him dizzy. This way, while blindfolded, he just relaxed as much as possible and let himself be treated like a sack of supplies.

  Eventually, the net cage in which he dangled came to a complete stop. He could hear two flier men talking with each other, but of course, he did not know what they were saying. Metlan stretched his legs until his feet felt solid wood beneath them. The men helped him step out of the net and removed his blindfold. They even removed the vines that bound his hands. Then the net was lifted away, leaving the two men alone on the platform with him. They were unarmed, as was he. After all, what could he do to them? If he tried to attack them, they would simply push him to his death, as there were no rails on the platform. If he tried to push them over the edge, they would glide to safety. Not to mention that they had claws. Here in the treetops, the fliers really had all the advantages. His strategy was to be as submissive and charming as possible while he learned as much as he could about their secret forest city. Perhaps they would even adopt him into their village.

  Once the men completed their duties, they leapt off the platform and glided to a nearby tree. Metlan watched with grudging admiration. The closest thing he could compare to what they must be feeling was the way he felt when Pergassi used her powerful muscles to leap across a ravine with him on her back. He felt like he could conquer the world. But Metlan’s weight prevented Pergassi from leaping more than her own length. It appeared that these fliers, with their ability to glide, could leap almost the width of a river. Now that would be exhilarating.

  Thankfully, Pergassi had escaped any harm. Metlan had taken on this quest only after confirming that the fliers did not harm the cats except in self-defense. At least that information appeared to be correct, unlike almost everything else. From the time he joined the scouts, he kept finding clues that these were creatures of high intelligence. What dumb beast sets traps? As he learned more, he started to refine his plans. He had carefully trained Pergassi for her role. Still, Metlan would never forget how shocked he was when he first heard the flier girl speak to him in his own language. Fortunately, he was given enough time between when he was captured and the council meeting to devise a strategy for dealing with these people.

  He realized that he may have been foolhardy to step into that trap. When he was hanging in the net in the trees, surrounded by armed fliers, he definitely had second thoughts. They could have just killed him there. But if these fliers shot cats only in self-defense, it made sense that they were not ruthless killers of men. It had been a huge gamble, but so far it had paid off.

  When he threw down his weapons, he had kept the chunks of dried flier meat in one of the pouches hanging from his belt. This was another big chance that he took. He had figured that even if they found it, although they might be repulsed, they would not have known for sure that it was flier meat since it was chopped into small chunks. As he was lifted across the forest, he had carefully dropped the chunks of the meat from the net, until it was gone. This left a trail for Pergassi to follow to find him. He knew she would come back for him, and that when she did she would follow the trail of treats to wherever he was taken. Now, he was glad to hear her trills far below, at the base of the tree on which his platform sat.

  For short periods, Pergassi would wander off to find food, which was plentiful on the forest floor, but she would faithfully return to circle the tree on which Metlan was kept prisoner.

  Now all he had to do was figure out something to use to write the messages that he wanted her to deliver to his tribe. Perhaps he could get that flier interpreter to give him some writing materials, to pass the time. He chuckled to himself when he thought of the flier translator. What a sucker!

  Metlan took the cover off the wooden container that had been left on his prison floor. Inside he found what looked like a type of bread with nuts. He sniffed it, and a sweet aroma filled his nostrils. A bite confirmed what his nose had told him: this was delicious. It could almost make him forget that he longed for a good hunk of meat to chew on. Metlan drank some of the lukewarm tea, again delighting in the sweet spicy flavor. Then he moved to the center of the platform, and feeling quite the prince, covered his body with the soft, smooth cloth the fliers had provided, and settled in for a nap. He shifted around a little bit at first, concerned that he might roll off the platform to his death. Yet in a short time, Metlan fell into a peaceful sleep, knowing that Pergassi waited for him far below.

  Metlan dreamed he was riding Pergassi across a sea of low grass. As he looked to the horizon, the wind blew ripples through the dried grasses, creating the sensation of waves. He was riding toward a huge, deep blue boulder which was carved in the shape of a giant reclining cave lion. The lion’s back was flat like a chair top. As he got closer, Metlan realized that it was actually the seat of a stone throne. The throne hovered above the ground in the distance. Closer and closer they rode, with Pergassi gaining speed, her muscles rippling like the grass. He urged her forward. As they neared the rock throne, Metlan saw a ravine open up in the ground before him. Instinctively, Pergassi leapt into the air, but as she tried to leap, the grassy sea turned to a watery sea, and instead of rising into the air, they began to sink into the swelling water. Struggling to stay above the waves, Pergassi began to swim, but the water pulled them to the edge of the ravine and over the brink of a waterfall. They were falling …falling through the mist. Metlan looked up and saw the throne disappearing into the sky as they tumbled toward the rock strewn riverbed below.