Stretching, he looked out over the valley—and looked again, more sharply.

A large figure was moving across the open area, using a tall something to walk with. Val Con leaned against a boulder to watch.

The tall something abruptly became a lance; point gathering the wan light of the moons and dispersing it in glittering ribbons. The figure was Edger, no doubt beginning his journey.

Val Con shifted, took two steps down the path to the valley—and stopped. The T’carais had business to be about, even as he did. Let be, he told himself sternly.

Yet he stood there, watching until the other reached the edge of the valley and the night hid that large person from feeble eyes.

“Safe journey, Edger,” he murmured in Low Liaden, as one might to a friend. Then he turned sharply, snatched up the directionfinder and moved back down the trail toward the Scout ship. Time for rest, if he wanted an early start in the morning.

* * *

IT IS A SENTIENT being; one that obeys the words of the T’carais. If it is in need, it has the right to aid.

Thus had Handler reasoned before starting this small expedition. The man had not been seen for days, and though its absence took tension from the Clan it also added tension.

Handler was nervous. It was difficult to think with the thoughts of a T’carais, enclosing both Broodmothers and men. On his way to the hill path, he stopped to speak with the Broodmother.

“I give you good sun,” he said politely.

“As I give you good sun, T’caraisiana’ab,” she responded, taking the T’carais’amp by the arm and indicating that he should make his bow.