Free The Forerunner Factor by Andre Norton Page A

be connected with any trade trouble which he may have. But one of the starcrew passed me a message that much concerning me has been asked of the captain and that he has received orders that when the ship lifts, I am not to remain.”
    “Yet you came to me!” She spat that in pure anger and wanted nothing more so much as to claw mark that smooth, ivory skin of his so that neither friend nor foe could put rightful name to him again. Only, one ruled by anger, as the Old One had long ago taught her, made fatal mistakes.
    “Because I had to, not only to get what you showed me and what is perhaps a very important pointer to that which I seek, but because you might now be my only contact to gather the knowledge I would have. At any rate,” he did not drop his gaze, there was even a shadow smile at the corner of his mouth, “is it not true that any who have had dealings with Gathar in any way can now be suspected of whatever irregularity which it will be claimed he is concerned in?”
    “What do you want of me?” Both zorsals had crept very close to her feet, were looking up in her face, and uttering small cries as if they would have reassurance. Whatever had driven them from their comfortable quarters had been bad enough to bring them here in open fear.
    “A hiding place, whatever knowledge you can glean, and a way to reach the Hard Hills,” he told her as if he were merely reciting items from some trader’s list.
    She wanted to screech at him in a voice as harsh as Zass’s that she was no worker of powerful fortune. Judging by what she had heard, and now guessed from the arrival of the zorsals, they had been lucky in that they were still uncaptured. Simsa looked about the cavern a little wildly. She had always considered herself a cool and careful person, one who planned and thought before she tried any action. She was beginning to lose confidence in herself.
    No. She bit her lip. There was enough installed by Ferwar’s harsh training to hold her together now. She could think still, plan—For a start she looked to the zorsals and uttered the single short cry which was her order to search. Zass had not descended from her door perch; now she, too, urged her offspring to their duty, sending them out again to hide and spy along the Burrows.
    From any of the kind who dwelt here they would have no help at all. Ferwar had been feared in her day, Simsa resented and, after her besting of Baslter, hated by more than one. They would be eager to reveal to any who came seeking where exactly the prey might have taken cover. Then she and this twice damned off-worlder would be dug out as easily as one dug a well steamed or-crab out of its shell.
    There was only one choice and it was being forced upon her in too swift and too sharp a way—she wanted time to plan and she knew that she had none. With this off-worlder at her heels, she could not melt away again in a shadow role. Anywhere in Kuxortal, he would be as visible as a lighted lamp in a night-dark room.
    “This way.”
    She had wheeled about, went to pull up the sleep mats which had formed Ferwar’s bed place to reveal the secret the Old One had guarded with her own body for seasons of years, judging by the work done on it, and which Simsa herself did not know in all its parts. He joined her without asking, bundling aside the mats she pushed towards him. What lay underneath in the poor light of the Burrow was a long stone seemingly as fixed as a rooted plant. However, the girl, who had learned the secret once when she had tripped over Zass and had fallen with hands outstretched, now knelt and set the palms of her hands hard in certain very shallow indentations she could feel but not see.
    The end of the stone rose as she bore down with her full strength. A musty odor puffed into their faces. Simsa clucked to Zass—knowing she need not recall the other two, for they could trace their dam to the end of this way with ease. She picked up the lamp in one hand, bundled the zorsal up