Daulo nodded silently.
"Well, don't you see?" she snapped suddenly. "You haven't found it... and I ran off and left my friends there. I can't just... I have to-"
"I understand," Daulo said softly, getting to his feet. "Come. We'll go together to bury them."
It took them only a few minutes to get the car off the road and into concealment behind a pair of trees. Then, together, they headed back into the forest.
"How far will we need to go, Demon Warrior?" Daulo asked, peering up at the leafy canopy overhead and trying not to feel like he'd just made a bad mistake.
"Five or six kilometers, I think," the woman told him. "We should be able to get through it a lot faster than I did the first time. Thanks to your people's medical skill."
"It's the kind of skill that comes from living on a hostile world," he ground out. "Of course, it's been considerably more hostile lately-say, in the past twenty or thirty years?"
She didn't answer. "Did you hear me, Demon Warrior?" he demanded. "I said-"
"Stop calling me that," she snapped. "You know my name-use it."
"Do I?" he countered. "Know your name, I mean?"
She sighed. "No, not really. My name is Jasmine Moreau, of the world Aventine.
You can also call me Jin."
"Djinn?" he said, startled. All the childhood scare-stories of djinns came flooding back in a rush... "Given to you when you became a demon warrior, I assume?"
She glanced a frown over at him. "No. Why?-oh, I see. Huh. You know, I never noticed that before. No, it has nothing to do with the djinns of folklore-it's just pronounced the same. It's a name my father gave me when I was very young."
"Um. Well, then, Jin Moreau, I'd still like an answer to my question-"
"Freeze!"
For a single, awful second he thought he'd pushed her too far and that she'd decided to kill him after all. She dropped onto her side, left leg hooking up beneath her skirt-
There was a brilliant thunderbolt flash, and a smoking krisjaw slammed into the dead leaves.
"You okay?" she asked, rolling to her feet and peering around them.
Daulo found his tongue. "Yes. That's... quite a weapon," he managed, blinking at the purple afterimage.
"It comes in handy sometimes. Let's get moving-and if I yell, you hit the ground fast, understand? If there are as many animals out here today as there were my first time through it could be a busy trip."
"There shouldn't be," he shook his head. "You came in right after a major bololin herd went through, and that always stirs up lots of animal activity."
It pleased him to see that that knowledge was completely new to her. "Well, that's relief. In that case it should only take us a couple of hours to get to the shuttle."
"Good," he nodded. "And maybe to pass the time you could explain to me just why your world declared war on ours."
Watching her out of the corner of his eye, he saw her grimace. "We didn't declare war on you," she said quietly. "We were told by others that Qasama was a potential threat. We came to see if that was true."
"What threat?" he scoffed. "A world without even primitive spaceflight capability? How could we possibly be a threat to a world light-years away?-especially one protected by demon warriors?"
She was silent for a moment. "You won't remember it, Daulo, but for much of
Qasama's history all of you lived together in a state of extreme noncompetition."
"I know that," he growled. "We aren't ignorant savages who don't keep records, you know."
She actually blushed. "I know. Sorry. Anyway, it seemed odd to us that a human society could be so-well, so cooperative. We tried to find a reason-"
"And while you were looking you became jealous?" Daulo bit out. "Is that it? You envied us the society we'd created, and so you sent these razorarm killing machines in to kill and destroy-"
"Did you know that mojos can control the actions of their owners?"
He stopped in mid-sentence. "What?"
She sighed. "They effect the way their owners think. Cause them to make decisions that benefit the mojo first and the owner only second."
Daulo opened his mouth, closed it again. "That's absurd," he said at last.
"They're bodyguards, that's all."
"Really? Does your father have a mojo? I never saw him with one."
"No-"
"How about the head of the Yithtra family? Or any of the major leaders of Milika or Azras."
"Cities like Azras have hardly any mojos at all," he said mechanically, brain spinning. No; it had to be a lie. A lie spun by Aventine's rulers to justify what they'd done to Qasama.
And yet... he had to admit that he had always sensed a difference in the few mojo owners he knew well. A sort of... placidity, perhaps. "It doesn't make sense, though," he said at last.
"Sure it does," she said. "Out in the wild mojos pair up with krisjaws for hunting purposes-hunting and, for the mojos, access to embryo hosts."
"Yes, I know about the native reproduction cycle," Daulo said hastily, obscurely embarrassed at discussing such things with a woman. "That's why cities were designed to let bololin herds charge on through, so that the mojos there could get to the tarbines riding the bololins."
"Right," she nodded. "You could have walled the cities like you did the villages, you know, and kept the bololins out completely. It would have saved a lot of grief all around... except that it was in the mojo's best interest to keep the bololins nearby, so that's how you built them. And because they didn't want to risk their own feathers with any more bodyguarding than they could get away with, they made sure you cooperated with each other in every facet of life."
"And so we had no warfare, and no village-city rivalry," Daulo growled. He understood, now... and the cold-bloodedness of Aventine's scheme turned his stomach. "So you decided to interfere... and with krisjaws all but gone from the
Great Arc, you had to give the mojos somewhere else to go. So you gave them razorarms."
"Daulo-"
"Have you seen enough of what Qasama has become since then?" he cut her off harshly. "Okay, fine-so perhaps we used to bend our own lives a little to accommodate other creatures. Was that too high a price to pay for peace?"
"Was it?" she countered softly.
The obvious answer came to his lips... and faded away unsaid. If what she said was the truth, had it really been worth the price? "I don't know," he said at last.
"Neither do I," she whispered.
Chapter 22
They made the trip in just under two hours... and for Jin, the whole thing was in sharp contrast with the ordeal a week earlier.
There was no way to tell, of course, how much of the difference was due to the abatement of the bololin coattail effect Daulo had described and how much was due to her own recovery. Certainly there was less fighting; only one other predator besides the krisjaw tried its luck with them, compared with the half-dozen single and multiple attacks she'd had to fight off on her last trip through. On the other hand, with her alertness and concentration again at full capability, it could have been simply that she was spotting potential trouble early enough for evasive methods to be effective.
Ultimately, though, the real reason didn't matter. She'd brought both herself and an untrained civilian safely through some of the most dangerous territory
Qasama had to offer... and it brought a welcome measure of self-confidence back to her bruised ego.
"Here we are," she said, gesturing to the battered hulk of the shuttle as they finally cleared the edge of the interweaving-fern patch and stepped out from the trees into view of the crash site.
Daulo muttered something under his breath, gazing first at the shuttle and then at the long death-scar it had torn into the landscape. "I was never truly sure..." His voice trailed off into silence, and he shook his head. "And you survived this?"