The boy looked at him, startled and suddenly defensive. "He was hot. The Cedrychad said he was going to die of heatstroke. So I cooled him off."

"Oh," said Arion, defeated by this simple logic. "They just hate getting wet, that's all."

The boy grimaced apologetically. "Yeah, I noticed. But I think he understands now," he added hopefully. "Tell him for me anyway, huh?"

Soren looked at the boy, his own job not becoming any easier. "What's your name, son?"

The boy looked at him sulkily, glanced at Arion, who was now talking to the venat in low tones, and back at Soren. He deliberated a moment longer and finally relaxed, perhaps because Arion had been allowed to return. "Ryan."

"Hey, Ryan. I'm Soren. I'm sorry we got off to a bad start. Arion used to be my wingmate and he's still my best friend. We don't agree about everything, and sometimes we argue. But that doesn't stop us from being friends. Follow?"

He glanced at Arion again, who nodded once. He shrugged. "Yeah."

"So we don't need to be mad at each other, you and I. Right?"

"Yeah." He relaxed completely.

Soren smiled. This might be easier than he'd thought. "Good. So, you live in this village?"

"Uh-huh."

"You like it here?"

He shrugged, eyeing Soren cautiously. "I guess so."

"What sort of games do you like?" he asked then, striving for a better topic. "Do you like quadball?"

He shrugged and wrinkled his nose. "Not really. I like pickle-sticks."

Soren smiled. Pickle-sticks were popular - two sticks used to juggle a third - but most kids seemed to like them for only a short time. "You any good?"

He smiled slyly. "Good enough to make money at it," he said casually.

Soren's eyes widened in sincere interest. This was a good opening. "Really? You game for a demonstration? Where're your sticks - at home?"

His expression clouded ever so slightly, becoming mildly guarded. "Nah. They're at Hasan's house." He paused a moment, then added, "I'm a squirrel."

"Well is Hasan home?" he asked readily, casually, though his heart sank. What was he supposed to do now? If he was a squirrel, he had no parents, only the entire village.

Ryan shrugged, losing interest. "Maybe later. I want to talk to the venator," he finished, looking at it with hungry eyes.

Soren looked at it, and at Arion who, in turn, was looking at Ryan uncertainly. Inwardly Soren felt a deep gratitude to Arion for recognizing his problem, in spite of his own earlier callousness. At the same time, he also felt a frustrated wonder that both of them could suffer so much at the hands of venators without any apparent anger. Even as he thought it, he rejected the possibility of using the loss of his parents to garner a position. Besides, he didn't really know how the boy had lost his parents.

Ryan glanced towards Soren again, then back at Arion. "Does he understand?" he asked. "About the water."

"Yes. You definitely took him by surprise, but he understood before I explained. He says to tell you thank you, and he's sorry he didn't appreciate it at first."

He smiled sideways and snorted a laugh. "Yeah. I shoulda warned him. I forgot how cold it feels when you're hot. But I didn't know they hated water."

Arion nodded. "He understands that too now, and he really feels much better."

"Good. ...Well, so, can I talk to him?"

Arion hesitated, looking at Soren, who started as he realized Arion was asking for permission. They were both gazing at him now, waiting expectantly.

He glanced at the bedraggled venat and suddenly found himself curious. What did Ryan want to ask? What would it answer? It hadn't told Arion it had a soul, so this might even be an excellent way to solve the whole mess. He shrugged and gestured innocence. "Go ahead."

Ryan looked squarely at the venat. "Ask him why."

"Why what?"

"Why he kills us," he answered, his eyes never leaving the venat.

"Ohashta, domen Ryan. Lopen, mose aneirshap?"

It nodded. "Morushap dei mokinda. Dei runo topen."

"..Anenpora mose topen," said Arion.

It looked confused. "Dei.. dei penar tobenar kish len. Nubasen mogreida tiba kai len?"

"What did he say?" asked Ryan, lest they continue talking only to each other.

"I asked your question, and then I asked him to explain it a little better. He said he kills us because he is hungry, and because we have souls. He explained that was because animals have only one life, a physical life. He asks if you want him to take this one and only life away from the animals."

Ryan wrinkled his nose. "But they're just animals."

"Exactly."

"But that's all backwards."

"Not to them."

He frowned, considering. "Does he, do they ever eat regular animals?"

"...Yes, but they prefer not to," he replied, translating.

"Do they eat Lenisats?"

"...Yes. Sometimes."

"Does he think it's wrong for us to kill venators?"

"...No."

"Because they have souls?" he asked, fascinated. "It's okay to kill them because they have souls too?"

Soren cringed as Arion asked, suddenly very unsure this was such a good idea. Its ears went back. "...No."

Ryan paused, mildly surprised. "Why then?"

Its ears went even further back. "...He apologizes, but asks you not to ask that question."

He frowned slightly, then looked at Arion. "Do you know why?" he asked softly, conspiratorially.

Arion smiled and shook his head. "No, I sure don't."

He paused again, thinking. Seeming to have run out of questions, Soren took advantage of the moment and asked, "Ryan, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"What?"

"Have you ever been pretty sure of something, but not really, really sure?"

He shrugged.

"Okay, how about something you're sure of. Have you ever been sure, you knew you were right, only then you found out you were wrong?"

He shrugged, but nodded. "Yeah."

"Okay. Have you ever played Mage and Fool?"

He gave a short, scornful laugh. "Who hasn't?"

Soren smiled. "Has anyone ever managed to trick you?"

He smiled stubbornly and shrugged. "Yeah, once or twice."

"Okay," he said, nodding and becoming serious. "I have to ask you a very important favor, and it's a hard one. Okay?"

Ryan frowned suspiciously. "What?"

"I want you to be careful."

The suspicion was abruptly replaced by guarded amusement. "Of what?"

"Of hurting Arion. No, I know you wouldn't," he continued briskly as Ryan immediately began to object, "but you might by accident. Hear me out?"

He nodded.

"Good. Thank you. You know that Arion and I disagree about something very important, right?"

"Yeah. He says the venator has a soul, and you say no."

"Exactly. And what do you think?"

He hesitated, startled by this turn. "I think Arion knows more about the venators than anyone."

"He probably does, but that's not what I asked you. What do you think about them having souls?"

"...I think they do," he said, quietly defiant.

Soren nodded. "Can you tell me why you think so?"

He shrugged. " 'Cause Arion says so."

"Is that what he told you?"

"It's what he told you," he countered.

Soren smiled, encouraged by his quick intelligence. "Yes. But why do you suppose he hasn't been telling everyone?"

He dropped his eyes and glanced back at Arion, uncertain. "'Cause you guys won't let him," he said, accusing.

"Partly. But if he really wanted to, we couldn't stop him. Why else? What other reason could there be for him not to tell everyone?"

He struggled for an answer, then shrugged angrily.

"Because," said Soren slowly, answering for him, "he isn't really, really sure he's right. He feels certain he's right, but he's not so certain that we're wrong. He can't help wondering if maybe, just maybe he's been tricked. Maybe those venats that had him - and weren't very nice to him - maybe they've made him the fool."

He paused to give Ryan a chance to respond. When he said nothing, Soren continued. "I'm not trying to tell you what to believe. But please, be careful. Arion isn't spreading this around because he's being careful. He doesn't want anyone to get hurt, just in case he's been tricked. And if you start spreading this around, it might hurt Arion too. I can't tell you what to believe, any more than I can tell Arion, but think hard. Okay?"

Ryan hesitated, then turned to Arion. "You don't want me to say anything either?" he asked pointedly, intensely and not at all childishly.

Arion stared at him for a long moment, then looked away with an unhappy laugh and a shake of his head, like an impatient horse. "I can't make this decision for you, Ryan. What I say holds too much weight, either way." He frowned, distressed. "It isn't right to lay so much on a little kid, but I can't help you."

Ryan dropped his eyes, silent, thinking. He gazed at the venator, then picked up his bucket and left.

"You should have taken him aside, Soren," said Arion crossly. "What was I supposed to say?"

"Just what you said," he answered, shrugging, instantly reminded of Ryan. It seemed to be catching. "Don't worry about it. It's not your fault anyway. I never should have let him overhear me in the first place. That was careless."

"Thanks," he said, then smiled, looking away and laughing.

"What?"

He looked up, grinning mischievously. "You won't like it."

"I'll take my chances. What?"

"I was just thinking, maybe it's not your fault either. You couldn't help it if God wanted it to happen."

Soren groaned a laugh. "Yeah. Okay."

Soren sat at breakfast and sulked. Outwardly Arion seemed more cheerful, but since their argument over the venat he had shared nothing personal. Keep it to yourself he had said, the words ringing sourly in his mind. He tried to convince himself that he was over-reacting to a guilty conscience, but he knew too well that it didn't wash. Ordinarily Arion would have eagerly shared all that he and the venat - Ohashta, he amended bitterly - had discussed. He'd said nothing at all.

Glumly he wondered if he had told Sparrow, and was certain he had. Part of him wanted to ask Sparrow, but another part - pride perhaps - rebelled. If Arion had wanted him to know, he would have told him himself.

The Ealdred had been reluctantly satisfied that the boy would cause no trouble. And he hadn't - not until the shuttle had returned to the Hammerstar. Then the little twerp had tended Ohashta with a passion, keeping him cool, giving him drinks, and informing anyone who would listen that, "Arien the Eagle believes it has a soul. Arien won't say so because the Gadamista won't let him."

The coms were flooded with queries, and even a few outright accusations. The Ealdred was furious. "Do you realize what you've allowed to happen?" he'd asked.

Oh yes, he knew all right, although the singularly personal nature of the accusation startled him. The news had spread like a flash fire across the coms. Not a single planet hadn't heard, and the people were sharing it among themselves enthusiastically.

Fortunately, the Gadamista itself was less impressed. Arion pumped that venat for all it was worth! they said.

Imagine people believing its lies.

Of course it all started with a child, you know. He got mixed up.

But even so, you could feel an undercurrent of uncertainty and confusion as the Gadamis assured one another perhaps a little too vigorously. They were all maybe a little too careful not to question the fact that the Ealdred had withheld the shuttle the following morning, leaving the village to escort the venat up the mountain by itself.

Certainly this had been done in the past when another area was being threatened, but this time... Well, no one bothered to ask where they were headed at such a leisurely pace.

Only one had said to Arion, "It's a shame the Ealdred didn't send us down this time. You could've set those people straight right quick!" Arion had smiled, shrugged, and walked on. He had, in point of fact, wanted very much to go down and accompany the venat to its doom.

Arion managed beautifully for the next several days. Allusions to the venat he ignored silently, and to direct questions he simply smiled and answered, "Ask yourself."

Soren found their questions harder to deal with, but hardest was Arion's silence. Now they were headed for another planet and everyone was confined to the Hammerstar, feeling bored, restless, and unsettled.

Community Hall was crowded that evening, as it often was when the Hammerstar had no access to a planet. Soren and Mark sat with Sparrow and Arion at a central table, sipping Douls. Impromptu skits and performances were common on such nights, and Arion had carefully left the mythra in his quarters to avoid unwanted invitations.

Still, it was not surprising when several members of his defense class began calling for him to come forward. He sighed, smiling and shaking his head. "I don't trust them," he said, still smiling, eyeing the large covered crate being brought out on the platform.

"You shouldn't," agreed Soren, chuckling. "But I don't think you have any choice." Indeed, everyone in the hall was joining in, urging him forward.

Shaking his head again, he rose and walked slowly to the platform.

"Arion, our teacher!" said Toby in a loud stage voice. "Arien, our eagle! Much have you taught us; great is our admiration!" The hall responded with vigorous applause, though also mixed with chuckles of anticipation.

"Surely all of us here this evening are aware of your tender concern for the venator on Brahtland. And surely the great Ohashta has gained immortality, for he shall live on in legends to come."

Soren groaned inwardly. There was scattered applause and laughter. Arion had reached Toby now and stood before him, his stance relaxed. Though he wasn't smiling, he didn't seem distressed.

"But what about you?" Toby continued. "What about you?! Robbed of your pet by inexorable tradition. It isn't right!" he thundered at the audience, raising his fist. They responded eagerly with shouts and cheers.

As it quieted, Toby gestured grandly to the others, standing beside the crate, and said, "We who love you so well have taken it upon ourselves to replace the venator you lost with another pet. Behold! The new Ohashta!"

But as they whipped the cover off, the crate suddenly burst apart with a splintering of wood. Toby and the others staggered backward, thrown off balance as a venator leaped out with a snarling scream of rage.

Chairs clattered to the floor as half the hall jumped to its feet, Soren with them. Arion spun round in a full circle, almost simultaneously turning to run, turning to face it, crouching low. The venat froze at the crashing of the chairs, standing tensed and snarling, ready to spring.

Toby and the others... Were laughing. Arion straightened slowly as he realized, along with everyone else, that his "new pet" was nothing more than a man in a costume. Abruptly the "venator" dropped to all fours, mewling piteously and groveling at Arion's feet.

Toby and the others fell against each other in helpless giggles. The rest of the hall broke into murmuring, then into tentative laughter, watching for Arion's response.

Slowly he smiled. He said something to Toby, and though the words were lost, he was quite clearly threatening retribution. He turned and jumped down from the platform.

The venator followed to the edge, raising its arms imploringly. "Arion! Wait! Don't leave me behind!"

Arion continued up the aisle, oblivious.

"But I'm thirsty!" it wailed. The hall collapsed in uncontrolled hysteria.

Arion never faltered, heading on out of the hall, but he raised his arm, shaking his finger in warning. Toby's turn would come, and quite possibly the rest of the class with him. Sparrow rose and followed him, trailed by Soren and Mark.

"Arion," Soren said softly, catching up. "Are you okay?"

He looked back, gave a small laugh, and nodded. "Sure."

Soren looked at him, unconvinced.

He smiled again, dropping his eyes. "It was a joke, Soren. If I take it in the manner it was intended, how can I help but accept it?" He looked up again, his eyes twinkling with a familiar mischief. "You have to admit, Soren, it was superb. He made it blatantly obvious that he was going to get me. We all knew it and he got me anyway. Got me good. Got the entire hall while he was at it too. Oh, yes, it was a masterpiece! But one way or another, he's going to get his."

Soren laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. "Well if you need any help, just let me know!" he said, suddenly feeling much better about everything.

Arion came to him the very next evening. "I wish I could say it was my idea," he said, grinning, "but Kerey came up with it." He chuckled. "Kerey says they'll even learn more trying to make up for the imaginary lack!"

Soren laughed. "And what are they called again?"

"Vylar insoles. Absolutely necessary if you want to be nimble enough to tangle with a venator head to head."

"Except they don't exist."

Arion grinned. "Nope. Seems they've been around for awhile though. We've already talked to Ealdred Tovi about it, and he just laughed and said, 'What, the insoles again?' But he's going to help too. So spread the word. Especially anyone you can remember was in community hall when they got us."

"Mutual revenge?" he asked with a smile.

"Absolutely!"

The Ealdred seemed mollified by the incident, particularly Arion's response, but even so, he would not grant Arion access to the surface following the next battle. It was too soon, he explained. Too many people would have too many questions.

Arion accepted gracefully. He had, after all, received more ground time of late than was normal. While this was intended to make up for the leave he had failed to take advantage of, it was not unreasonable to begin limiting it. Let someone else enjoy his seat on the shuttle.

Back in his cabin Soren flopped on his bed and smiled at Mark. "He's really, finally, starting to relax. He still has crazy ideas, but he's finally starting to relax. I thought he never would."

"Yeah," Mark agreed, smiling slyly. "I know what you mean. We thought you'd never relax after he disappeared."

He snorted. "I wasn't that bad."

Mark looked over at him and grinned. "No? And just why do you think the Ealdred grounded your Starphire, and assigned you to fly with Sparrow? You're not the first emotional cripple he's babysat!"

Soren started to laugh but stopped, knowing too well that he was doing just that for Arion right now.

"That's right, buddy boy. You're not the first, and not the last. It's one of Sparrow's many specialties."

Soren shrugged. "He didn't need to do that. I wasn't that bad."

"No," he agreed, a little too vigorously. "Just suicidally dedicated to your job. Just prone to severe nightmares each and every night."

"All right!" he exclaimed before he could go on. "Next time I see Sparrow I'll thank him. Okay?"

Mark smiled and nodded, but anything he might have said was cut off by a knock at the door. "Come in."

The door slid open and a young cadet entered. He was one of Arion's students. "Hey," he said, somewhat awkwardly. "Soren Kelsi?"

"Right here," Soren answered cheerfully. "What can I do for you?"

"Eric said you could tell me where to get vylar insoles?"

"Well haven't you tried the uniforms office?" Soren asked readily.

"Yes. They said that they didn't handle the specialty items like that. They said I should ask someone who has a pair. I asked Eric, and he said to ask you."

Soren shrugged. "I got mine through a guy in the uniforms office."

"Who?"

He shook his head. "Sorry. I didn't really know him. If I remember his name, I'll let you know. What's your name again?"

"Raul."

"Try asking Patricia over in minerals," offered Mark.

"Minerals?"

"Yeah. In the Ag center. She'll fix you up."

Raul smiled. "Great! Thanks."

"Tell her I said hi!"

"Okay. See ya."

Raul disappeared and they smiled at each other. "Patricia in minerals?"

"Yeah. She has this dinky little office in the department of mineral research," Mark answered casually. "I was talking with her yesterday. She introduced me to the guy who supplies some of the minerals that go into the vylar."

"Oh really?" he asked, grinning.

"Well, specifically she introduced us, and we all got to talking about vylar, and this guy says he supplies a couple of the ingredients to the people who make the vylar. Or maybe he supplies the people who supply the people who make the vylar. I can't remember for sure now." He smiled innocently.

"You've been busy."

"Me? Nah. Not really. Just visiting with old friends."

"Like Patricia in mineral research."

"Well, actually her office is involved more in the artistic end than anything else."

"Artistic end?"

"Yeah. She experiments with minerals that produce coloring compounds for various things. Sometimes for paints, or fireworks, all kinds of things. It's amazing what she can do just dabbling around in her office. It's a small place, but she's not too hard to find."

Soren grinned. "I'll bet."

As the weeks passed, the cadets continued to search for vylar insoles, the quest taking on a life of its own. One rumor told that an imminent shipment of insoles had been lost, jettisoned with the rest of the cargo when the ship had technical difficulties and couldn't afford the extra weight coming through the atmosphere to land.

An announcement told of a large batch of misdirected insoles that could be had from agricultural supply. The cadets swarmed to the small office, only to be informed by the beleaguered worker that the announcement was nothing more than a practical joke against him.

The quest had an added benefit in that when people saw Arion, they now thought of it rather than Ohashta. The Ealdred, too, seemed to be more at ease, but he still refused to allow Arion down to the surface.

For a time, Arion accepted his refusals without question, but as the list of reasons grew with each refusal, each reason began to look more and more like an excuse. Now, following an attack against Navarro on Tellus, he was refusing again.

"I need you in communications Arion," he said sympathetically. "I want you scanning for us. You understand their nuances better than anyone else, and I'm concerned they might attack again on the far side of the planet."

The threat was real; the venats had been quiet lately and easily run off when they did show, but their need for food could only be growing stronger. "How about one of his students?" suggested Soren, feeling obligated to say something on Arion's behalf.

"This isn't an exercise," answered the Ealdred with an irritated glance.

Arion stared at him silently, his straight, stiff back and hard eyes showing no trace of the meek, broken man who had come home such a short/long time ago. His hair had grown back to almost its former length and he looked himself again. He looked angry.

Under this sharp gaze the Ealdred first drew himself up, affronted, then sighed harshly and leaned back in his chair. "What do you expect me to do, Arion? Turn you loose to answer all kinds of outrageous questions? You have no idea how much damage that child caused, and if you go down the people cannot be avoided."

"And what do you expect me to do?" he echoed with cold, resentful calm. "Shall I stay on board for the rest of my contract? Am I a prisoner?"

"No. Of course not," he said shortly. "But how do you plan to answer people?"

"That would depend on the question, wouldn't it? Have I answered with anything inappropriate on board?"

"No. But your actions below were very much so. I don't want to see it again."

"That I cannot promise you."

The Ealdred gazed at him, his face a smooth, careful blank. "The Gadamista is based on teamwork," he said at last. "You will find life very difficult if you continue patronizing those animals." At this Arion snorted a quiet laugh but the Ealdred ignored him and continued, "We are a team. They will not accept your behavior."

"Understood."

"They are still with you at this point," he continued, looking down at last. "They blame the people and consider it a joke, albeit a bad one. They will not be laughing if you continue," he finished, looking up, his tone firm.

Soren realized with a sickening start that he was simultaneously cautioning Arion and threatening an imposter. That he still considered that a possibility was hard for Soren to accept, but he recognized the look in his eyes too well to doubt it.

Arion gave a wry smile, making Soren wonder if he recognized it as well. "No one's asking them to laugh. ...Please sir," he continued, relenting before the Ealdred's frown, "I have been doing my best not to make trouble. I just want to go down. ...I'm suffocating."

The Ealdred stared at his hands, then looked up and said, "I will delay the shuttle long enough to ensure that all of the venats have been disposed of. When I am certain of that, I'll release the shuttle. You may join them."