Read Online The Silver Ship and the Sea by Brenda Cooper - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Brenda Cooper
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caught.
The cat gained on us.
I tried to turn Jinks to regain the path, but she fought me and I let her flee, trusting her. She jerked and turned, twisting away from a second cat, heading back for the rocks. She chose well; we raced past the first cat, still going the other way. It snarled and whirled, huge paw slashing. Pain like an electric shock flared through my right leg, and then we were past it, gone.
We raced away.
Jinks’s breath sounded labored and she slowed under me. I looked back, but couldn’t spot the cats behind us. I heard them though, close behind.
Rocks loomed in front of us again, maybe the same, maybe different: two or three large rocks and many smaller ones making a three-foot-tall hill. Jinks gathered herself to jump. I knew, even as we left the ground, that it was too high, that I was too heavy. Her right foreleg caught on the top stone. She twisted, screaming, and I glimpsed one of her eyes flashing with fear as I tumbled over, clearing the rocks, sharp grass sawing at me.
Jinks screamed again, fear and then pain, and I knew at least one of the cats was on her.
I scrambled away. I’d be too low, I’d be lost in the grass and Tom and Joseph wouldn’t see me. The cats; the cats would find me.
I glanced back.
Nothing.
Which way was the path?
I ran, parting the grass, ignoring the sharp grass tips flailing my cheeks, my arms. The grass thinned in front of me and a smaller patch of rocks rose a meter and a half above the ground. A view. I leaped for the top, looking frantically around.
I’d been paralleling the path.
A cat’s scream from behind announced the kill, calling the pack to fresh meat.
I couldn’t see Joseph, but Tom stood in his saddle on Sugar Wheat, looking around, not far ahead of me. I waved my arms, and Tom’s head snapped around. A feral smile filled his face as he and Sugar Wheat barreled toward me. Tom leaned way down, holding out an arm. I grabbed it and he swung me up, hard, throwing meacross the front of his saddle. The wide, low saddle bump dug into my side and I struggled to sit, managed a sideways position where I was in front of Tom, but between him and the saddle bump. “Joseph?” I called up to Tom.
“He’s safe.” Tom held me on with one hand, but every stride pushed breath from me, and it was all I could do to stay on, to breathe, and to not scream from the pain. The slash in my leg hurt. Joseph and Legs swung in noisily from the side, both breathing hard. Joseph’s white face searched mine. “Chelo—are you okay? What happened?”
Talking and breathing and bouncing, I managed, “They…got…Jinks.” I saw again the last look she’d given me, the fear in her eyes as she fell.
Legs and Sugar Wheat slowed. Moments later their hooves clattered on pavement. Safety. The cats were probably satisfied with one kill anyway, but the open expanse of pavement discouraged cats as well as grass. Paw-cats hated being in the open, being seen.
Tom stopped and climbed down, and I turned to sit properly in the saddle, gasping for breath. My side hurt from bumping up and down against the saddle, the claw mark in my leg screamed fire, and every bare spot of exposed skin was grass-cut. I couldn’t stop picturing poor Jinks, feeding paw-cats somewhere behind me.
Sweat streaked both hebras, and a long shallow slash curved down Legs’s flank, dripping blood. Joseph dismounted, too, and he and Tom walked together, leading Legs and Sugar Wheat. I wasn’t sure if I could walk at all yet, so I stayed up. My own leg dripped blood, matching Legs’s flank. Legs let out a long tremulous call and turned to look directly behind him. I swear he looked sad. “Do you think they know about Jinks?” I asked.
Joseph said, “Sure. They’re herd animals. They know about death, and when they’ve lost a family member.”
Tom reached a hand up to pat Legs on the neck. “And smart. Hebras are smarter than most animals in our databases. Not like us, but most of the animals
The cat gained on us.
I tried to turn Jinks to regain the path, but she fought me and I let her flee, trusting her. She jerked and turned, twisting away from a second cat, heading back for the rocks. She chose well; we raced past the first cat, still going the other way. It snarled and whirled, huge paw slashing. Pain like an electric shock flared through my right leg, and then we were past it, gone.
We raced away.
Jinks’s breath sounded labored and she slowed under me. I looked back, but couldn’t spot the cats behind us. I heard them though, close behind.
Rocks loomed in front of us again, maybe the same, maybe different: two or three large rocks and many smaller ones making a three-foot-tall hill. Jinks gathered herself to jump. I knew, even as we left the ground, that it was too high, that I was too heavy. Her right foreleg caught on the top stone. She twisted, screaming, and I glimpsed one of her eyes flashing with fear as I tumbled over, clearing the rocks, sharp grass sawing at me.
Jinks screamed again, fear and then pain, and I knew at least one of the cats was on her.
I scrambled away. I’d be too low, I’d be lost in the grass and Tom and Joseph wouldn’t see me. The cats; the cats would find me.
I glanced back.
Nothing.
Which way was the path?
I ran, parting the grass, ignoring the sharp grass tips flailing my cheeks, my arms. The grass thinned in front of me and a smaller patch of rocks rose a meter and a half above the ground. A view. I leaped for the top, looking frantically around.
I’d been paralleling the path.
A cat’s scream from behind announced the kill, calling the pack to fresh meat.
I couldn’t see Joseph, but Tom stood in his saddle on Sugar Wheat, looking around, not far ahead of me. I waved my arms, and Tom’s head snapped around. A feral smile filled his face as he and Sugar Wheat barreled toward me. Tom leaned way down, holding out an arm. I grabbed it and he swung me up, hard, throwing meacross the front of his saddle. The wide, low saddle bump dug into my side and I struggled to sit, managed a sideways position where I was in front of Tom, but between him and the saddle bump. “Joseph?” I called up to Tom.
“He’s safe.” Tom held me on with one hand, but every stride pushed breath from me, and it was all I could do to stay on, to breathe, and to not scream from the pain. The slash in my leg hurt. Joseph and Legs swung in noisily from the side, both breathing hard. Joseph’s white face searched mine. “Chelo—are you okay? What happened?”
Talking and breathing and bouncing, I managed, “They…got…Jinks.” I saw again the last look she’d given me, the fear in her eyes as she fell.
Legs and Sugar Wheat slowed. Moments later their hooves clattered on pavement. Safety. The cats were probably satisfied with one kill anyway, but the open expanse of pavement discouraged cats as well as grass. Paw-cats hated being in the open, being seen.
Tom stopped and climbed down, and I turned to sit properly in the saddle, gasping for breath. My side hurt from bumping up and down against the saddle, the claw mark in my leg screamed fire, and every bare spot of exposed skin was grass-cut. I couldn’t stop picturing poor Jinks, feeding paw-cats somewhere behind me.
Sweat streaked both hebras, and a long shallow slash curved down Legs’s flank, dripping blood. Joseph dismounted, too, and he and Tom walked together, leading Legs and Sugar Wheat. I wasn’t sure if I could walk at all yet, so I stayed up. My own leg dripped blood, matching Legs’s flank. Legs let out a long tremulous call and turned to look directly behind him. I swear he looked sad. “Do you think they know about Jinks?” I asked.
Joseph said, “Sure. They’re herd animals. They know about death, and when they’ve lost a family member.”
Tom reached a hand up to pat Legs on the neck. “And smart. Hebras are smarter than most animals in our databases. Not like us, but most of the animals
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