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blood would feed the spell or artifact, enabling it to continue guarding those hidden within."
"Precisely my own thoughts," the Meddler agreed.
"And what plan do you suggest," Truth asked, "for getting through this trap?"
"I think," the Meddler said, "that if the spider's web was not touched, then the defenses would take longer to
become active, if they activated at all. That delay could be used to advantage."
"What advantage?" Truth asked.
"How can I know without having been inside?" the Meddler said, exasperated. "Nor can I see inside. Such
barriers would have been constructed with creatures like myself in mind, for bodiless scouts were not unknown. I
would alert the 'spider' if I pushed through, just as you would if you walked through."
"But your tone says you think there is some other way," Truth said. She thought she knew the answer, and her fur
rose at the thought, but she had to hear him say it. It might be the Meddler had something else in mind.
He didn't.
"I have told you already that you are extraordinary in your ability to move between places. I have been showing
you how to do so without leaving your body behind. Now this was a rare talent, even in the old days, and I do not
think the web will be set to snare one who uses it. It will be like a door that has been barred and locked - but only
against those who come from without. You will be within, and none will raise claw or blade against you."
"That's why you came for me," Truth snarled. "All this time you've been planning this. That's why you came for
me. You thought I could get into the copse."
The Meddler blinked. "And what's wrong with that? Does it change the favors I have done you?"
"You could have asked ..."
"Would you have believed? Would you have acted? Would you have cared?" The Meddler made a dismissive
gesture. "Rip out my lungs when Plik is safe, not before. I tell you, I think this is the best way to go after him. You can
carry with you one other - I would suggest Firekeeper - and then either disarm the trap or guard the others as they
come through. Then with your full force, you can rescue Plik."
Truth considered saying many things, her tail lashing as it might before a battle with some creature who
threatened her cubs, but in the end she said, "Show me how this can be done."
***
WHEN PLIK NEXT AWOKE, the light had shifted.
I've slept a day and a night and part of a day, he thought. His mouth was dry and his stomach rumbled complaint,
but that was better than the vagueness he had -felt before.
He struggled to sit up, and a familiar voice said, "Let me help you. You're not as steady as you think."
Isende, who had been reading near a window, rose from her chair and came over to the bed - at least his first
impression was that this was Isende. When the person drew closer, Plik realized that this must be Tiniel.
Tiniel had the same not-brown, not-golden hair as his sister, the same warm, brown eyes. He was, like her, soft
and somewhat overweight, and this further blurred the distinctions between male and female. However, his movements
were those of a young man, full of contained energy, and even beneath the fat there was a sense that he would grow
into lines and angles, where Isende would incline to curves.
'Tiniel," Plik said, and was delighted to hear himself speak a word, not a bleat. It was a poor excuse for a word,
dry and croaked, but an honest word.
"Tiniel," the young man said, "and you are Plik. Would you like some water?"
"Please."
Tiniel poured a cupful from a heavy pottery jug. Then he came and propped Plik up, half holding the cup while
the maimalodalu sipped.
"More?"
"Please."
After a second cupful, Plik heard his bowels rumble audibly.
"There's a pot behind that screen," Tiniel said, and helped Plik over without further comment, nor did he extend
his solicitude to checking on him. When Plik emerged from behind the screen, feeling immensely better and
completely ravenous, Tiniel gestured to a low table.
"I can bring you a meal. Nothing too heavy, but sincerely sustaining. The blood briars take a lot out of one."
Plik wondered if Tiniel spoke from experience, but he decided not to ask. He was remembering how Isende had
wondered what manner of creature he was, and thought he might as well pretend to be just a bit simple. People weren't
threatened by stupidity. In fact, they often grew fond of it, as long as it did not become annoying. Plik had noticed that
people - and in this he included humans and maimalodalum and yarimaimalom all entire - tended to talk more freely to
those they thought just a little stupid. not at all threatening.
Cute, furry, and utterly uncomplicated, Plik thought. seating himself, and noting that the fit of table and chair with
his build were fairly comfortable. That's me.
Tiniel returned after a short time with a tray on which the centerpiece was a brown broth in which dark green
vegetables had been lightly cooked. There was a loaf of wheat bread and a pot of what tasted like a goat cheese,
though not seasoned in any fashion Plik had encountered before.
"The soup is good for rebuilding blood," Tiniel said. "Try to finish it. I can bring you more if you can stomach it."
Plik nodded, and obediently began spooning up the soup. It was flavorful, so getting it down was no great trial.
When he began eating, Tiniel stood indecisive. For a moment, Plik thought the young man was going to return to his
reading. Then he drew his own chair over and sat back a little from the table.
"Good?" he asked.
"Very good," Plik said.
"So you don't mind eating meat, then. We didn't think you would."
Plik made a noise indicating genuine confusion.
"Your teeth. They didn't look like the teeth of an herbivore, more like those of an omnivore."
Actually, Plik thought, rather like those of a raccoon, with a bit of variation toward the human in a few odd
places. At least that has been my assessment. It isn't easy to look at your own teeth, even with a mirror.
His fur rose, just a little, at the idea of Tiniel and Isende inspecting his teeth while he slept - or more accurately
was drugged. It bothered him that he remembered nothing of it, and he wondered what else they had done.
"Where am I?" Plik asked. It was a reasonable question. It would have been odder if he hadn't asked.
"You're in the place Isende and I have made our new home," Tiniel answered. "You were brought here by the
bracken beasts - by one of them. Your friends broke most of the others."
"Are my friends here?" Plik asked. He didn't think so. He hadn't scented them, but then they could be being kept
elsewhere.
"No, they are not," Tiniel said, and his tone forestalled further questions on the subject.
Plik decided it was best for him to look cowed and a little frightened. He did so, eating his soup, and then, when it
was done, starting on the bread and cheese.
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