Free The Golden Enemy by Alexander Key

happen—”
    â€œThe bear knows,” said Boy Jaim.
    â€œEh?” Old Emmon’s glittering eyes twitched at the corners, slowly closed, then opened again. “The bear knows? How do you know that he knows?”
    â€œI just know it,” Boy Jaim said simply. “That’s why I’ve got to find him and try to talk to him again. If—if he won’t talk, maybe I can learn something anyway—I mean, just from his thoughts.” He turned toward the sled, then paused and added, “It’s the only chance we have, so I’d better hurry and see Andru and try to stop those archery teams for a while. If you’ll call the people and tell them to get out in the fields …”
    The Elder blinked at him a moment, seemingly undecided. Suddenly he burst out, “Don’t waste time on Andru—I’ll take care of him and those silly archers! Go find that devilish beast!” He looked quickly at L’Mara. “Are you going to pilot the sled?”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œNo!” Boy Jaim cried. “I’m not having her along—this is something I’d better do alone.”
    Emmon held up his hands. “You may get killed alone. From my experience with the creature, two are far better than one. L’Mara’s a good pilot, and she’s quick. Let her help you. But don’t either of you forget for a second what that beast can do! Now go!”
    Boy Jaim did not bother to give directions to L’Mara, nor did she ask for any—she stubbornly persisted in being angry with him for not wanting her along. It went without saying that she knew he’d been thinking of her safety, but this made no difference. She refused even to look at him, and her small mouth remained tight and set. Her hand, though, seemed to be directed by an unfailing instinct, for it sent the sled exactly where he wanted it to go.
    They were hardly away from Emmon’s hill when it occurred to him to swing near Andru’s place on the chance that some of the archers had left before they could be stopped. Instantly, as if his mind had been connected to L’Mara’s, the sled changed course. Andru’s house was still some distance away when he sighted a group of sleds that had just risen above it and were beginning to race for South Com. In a flash, almost before the thought had formed in his mind, they were speeding to overtake the group.
    He recognized two of the sleds immediately. The first belonged to Hiras, of his own archery team. Flying just beyond young Hiras was the leader of the North Com team, a powerfully built man named Bors, ten years his senior.
    As they overtook Hiras, Boy Jaim called out that there had been a change of plans, and that the great bear was not to be hunted until he’d had another chance to talk to it. Hurriedly he tried to explain to Hiras the reason for it, but the other refused to listen.
    â€œWhose crazy idea is this?” Hiras cried. “You can’t make our team stop now!”
    â€œYou’ve got to! Emmon will explain—”
    â€œI’m not stopping unless Bors does! Do you want his team to beat us?”
    â€œDon’t argue about it—we’re not playing games today!”
    They flew on and caught up with Bors. The big man ignored his plea. “Don’t tell me what to do,” Bors flung back grimly. “The Council said the bear must die, and I intend to kill it. And a few goats as well. It’s time we taught all those fool animals a lesson!”
    The remaining sleds belonged to Bor’s team, and there was no use wasting time with them. Boy Jaim fought down his sudden fury at Bors and sat in tight-lipped silence while L’Mara slowed and let the others go ahead. The chance to kill seemed to have affected everyone alike. They were beyond all reason.
    L’Mara forgot her anger and glanced at him miserably. “You see?” she whispered.
    â€œYes. Bloodthirsty