Behind him, the quiet rustle of the Keeper's limbs over the wax had come to a halt. From the corner of his eye, Tavi could just see it gather all its limbs beneath it again, bobbing up and down in restless agitation. It began to emit a series of high pitched chirrups, not quite like a bird's voice, or anything else Tavi had ever heard. The sound made shivers slither down the length of his body.
After a moment, the Keeper appeared to go back to its work. Kitai turned toward Tavi, his motions very, very slow, graceful. He gestured toward Tavi with his hand, every movement smooth and circular and rolling, exaggerated. Then he turned and began to walk away, silent and slow, his steps flowing almost as though in a dance.
Tavi swallowed and turned to follow Kitai, struggling to emulate the Marat boy's steps. Kitai walked before him, close to the stone wall of the chasm, and Tavi followed until they were several dozen yards away from the Keeper. Tavi felt its presence behind him, bizarre and unworldly, disturbing as the legs of a fly prickling along the nape of his neck. When they were out of its sight, he felt himself relaxing and moving closer to Kitai out of reflex- as different as the other boy might be, he was more familiar, more friendly than that buglike creature entombing the crow within the glowing wax.
Kitai looked back over his shoulder at Tavi and then past him, eyes wide. There was something in them-tightly controlled terror, Tavi thought. He thought that Kitai looked a bit relieved to see Tavi standing so close to him, and the two boys exchanged a silent nod of acknowledgment to one another. Tavi felt the understanding between them without words needing to be said: truce.
Kitai let out a breath, slowly. "You must be quiet," he said, whispering. "And move smoothly. They see sudden motions."
Tavi swallowed and whispered, "We're safe if we're still?"
Kitai's face grew a shade paler. He shook his head, giving the gesture a circular accent to smooth it out. "They've found even those who were still. I've seen it."
Tavi frowned. "They must have some other way of seeing. Smell, hearing, something."
Kitai rolled his head in the negative again. "I don't know. We do not stay where they are to learn of them." He looked around and shivered. "We must be careful. It called. Others will come to search. They will be slow for now. But the Keepers will come."
Tavi nodded and had to swallow and force himself to make the gesture slowly, not in nervous jerks. "What should we do?"
Kitai nodded toward the ancient tree rising from the center of the forest. "We continue the trial, Aleran."
"Uh. Maybe we shouldn't."
"I will continue, Aleran. If you are too afraid to go on, then stay." His lips curled in a mischievous sneer. "It is what I would expect of a child."
"I am not a child,'' Tavi hissed furiously. "I'm older than you. What are you, twelve years old? Thirteen?"
Kitai narrowed his eyes. "Fifteen," he hissed.
Tavi stared at the other boy for a moment, then started smiling. He had to struggle not to break out into sudden laughter.
Kitai's scowl deepened. "What?"
Tavi rolled his head in a slow negative, and whispered, "Nothing. Nothing."
"Mad," Kitai said. "You people are mad." With that, he turned and glided deeper into the glowing forest.
Tavi followed close behind him, frowning, struggling to keep the irrational laughter from his lips, his steps silent. After they'd put several dozen more yards between them and the Keeper they'd seen, he reached back and unslung the pack Fade had pressed onto him from his shoulders. He opened it and rummaged inside.
The pack contained two small jars of fine lamp oil, firestones in their two-chambered black box, a small lantern, a box of fine shavings to serve as tinder for a fire, dried meat twisted into braids in a fashion odd to Tavi, two fine, warm blankets, several slender lengths of wood that could be fitted together into a fishing pole, lines, and fine metal hooks.
And at the bottom of the pack, a cruel, curved knife, heavy and with a spiked guard that covered the knuckles. It had a blade twice the length of Tavi's entire hand. A combat weapon.
Where had Fade got something like that? Tavi wondered. Why had the slave had this pack stored with such efficiency inside his chambers, presumably ready to go at a moment's