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Book One of the Travelers Page 2


  “It’s the tangs who need to worry about Kasha!” Boon said. “That was a brilliant idea, sending those two groups of gars in opposite directions. The tangs took the bait.”

  Seegen looked at Kasha. “The gars were killed?”

  Kasha shrugged. “Some were. Some usually are.”

  “You chose to sacrifice the gars as a fighting strategy?” Seegen asked.

  Kasha didn’t understand her father’s reaction. He knew what was required when foraging. Survival was never a sure thing for any of the participants—gar or klee. Kasha felt her fur bristle. “Gars are killed during forages. So are klees. Tangs do not discriminate. We’re all meat to them.”

  Boon must have been surprised by Seegen’s question as well.

  “Kasha’s quick thinking saved us—,” Boon began.

  “And gars,” Kasha pointed out.

  “And protected most of the harvest,” Boon finished.

  “Yes, yes. That is all to the good,” Seegen said. “I suppose I am just always troubled by the bloodshed.”

  “Tell it to the tangs,” Kasha said flatly. She tapped the table with her paw.

  “I am sure you did what you thought was right,” Seegen said. “I know how seriously you take your work.”

  Kasha nodded, but that flush of pleasure she’d felt only a moment before had evaporated.

  “Hello?” A large, elderly klee entered the tree house. His long fur had turned gray with age, and he moved carefully.

  “Yorn! Come in! You are just in time for dinner!” Seegen greeted his old friend.

  “Funny, he seems to always arrive around this time,” Boon whispered to Kasha.

  “Just like you,” Kasha teased. “Somehow you always appear in time for a meal!”

  “Boon and Kasha were just telling me about today’s forage,” Seegen said.

  “Ahhh,” Yorn said, taking a seat at the table. “Many losses?”

  “Kasha kept down the casualties,” Boon said before Seegen or Kasha could respond. “Durgen was very impressed.”

  “You do Leeandra a great service,” Yorn told Kasha. “But I would expect nothing less from Seegen’s daughter. Perhaps she, too, will have a seat on the council some day.”

  Kasha looked at her father with excitement. “You’re going to be named to the Council of Klee?”

  Seegen smiled. “Nothing is certain, but there has been some talk.”

  “Be assured, Seegen,” Yorn said. “It will happen. Who is more deserving? Why, you practically built Leeandra all on your own. From hollowing out the enormous trees in order to build the elevators to designing the rail system that runs alongside the sky bridges.”

  Seegen shook his head with a grin. “You give me too much credit.”

  “He’s right,” Kasha said. “This is an honor that should have come to you ages ago.”

  “I have been honored simply by the talk,” Seegen said. “From the beginning I believed in Leeandra. That is why I did all I could to help it grow and thrive. I still do. We have a great future ahead of us.”

  “I believe in dinner,” Boon declared. “Dinner would be a great future.” His brown snout wrinkled as he sniffed. His whiskers twitched. “And from the smell of things, that future is now.”

  “I’ll get the food,” Kasha said. “Or Boon may go tang on us!”

  Boon growled and bared his teeth. He lunged for Kasha, but she neatly sidestepped him. Boon sprawled on the floor, laughing.

  Kasha shook her head. Sometimes she wondered whether Boon was ever serious about anything! Still, he was a good friend, and she knew he would always have her back. And she knew he felt the same way about her.

  “Come on, scary beast.” Kasha held out her paw to help Boon up.

  “Yes,” Yorn said with a smile. “Let us old folks talk a bit. You two have too much energy for me. You’re tiring me out just watching you!”

  Boon and Kasha padded out to the kitchen as Yorn was saying, “This council seat means that you could work to make some of those changes you have been talking about….”

  “Do you really think he will get a seat on the council soon?” Kasha asked once they were in the kitchen.

  Boon pulled plates from their shelves. “I think it’s a sure thing. Then you’ll be the daughter of a council leader.”

  “A lot of good that will do me,” Kasha joked, putting roasted meat onto a large serving platter. “He will probably make things harder on me just to prove he’s not showing favoritism.”

  “You’re probably right about that,” Boon said. “But you wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Kasha smiled. “True.” Her father’s integrity was one of the many qualities she admired. And she knew her own desire to earn her way, rather than having anything handed to her, was a quality of hers that made her father proud.

  “Now that smells good!” Yorn declared as Kasha and Boon re-entered the room.

  Kasha put the platter in the center of the table while Boon passed out the plates. Soon the heaping platter of meat had dwindled to just one slice.

  Kasha’s amber eyes met Boon’s dark brown ones. Both whipped out their paws to swipe it, but Kasha was quicker. The tasty morsel was already in her mouth as Boon’s paw hit the platter.

  “Mm-mm,” Kasha said. She licked her paws and grinned.

  Boon laughed. “Those reflexes—it’s why I knew you would be great at wippen.”

  Kasha’s eyes flicked to her father. He had objected when she joined the wippen team. It was still a sore point between them. Yorn looked uncomfortable. It was obvious he knew what her father’s position was on the game.

  “This year’s tournament is going great!” Boon continued, obviously unaware of the discomfort at the table. “Coach Jorsa is really pleased with Kasha’s performance.”

  “I wish you would reconsider, Kasha,” Seegen said.

  Boon looked shocked. “But she’s so good! We’re sure to win with Kasha on our team! Why would you want her to quit?”

  “My father thinks wippen is wrong,” Kasha said.

  “How can a game be wrong?” Boon asked.

  Seegen cleared his throat. “It is unfair to use the gars as expendable game equipment.”

  “Klees can get injured as well,” Kasha argued.

  “It is a traditional game,” Yorn pointed out. “My father was a coach back in the old times.”

  “Just because something is as it always has been does not make it right,” Seegen said.

  “The gar players are well fed and well cared for,” Kasha insisted. Why would her father not see that this wasn’t a problem?

  “Boon agrees with me on this,” Kasha said. “Right, Boon?”

  Boon stood to clear the dishes. “I…well…I…”

  “And so does everyone else,” Kasha continued. “It is the way of things.”

  “I thought I taught you better than that,” Seegen said.

  Kasha stared at her father, stung. “Wh-What do you mean?”

  “I raised you to think for yourself,” Seegen admonished her. “Not just take on the attitudes of those around you.”

  “Of course I think for myself!” Kasha protested. How could her own father insult her this way? “If I did not, I would simply agree with you!”

  Now Seegen smiled. “I suppose you are right. A less strong-minded person would parrot my opinion back to me. But I do wish you would think more about your positions. Question your own assumptions—and those held by others.”

  Kasha swallowed. “I promise to keep a more open mind on the subject of gars and wippen,” she said finally. She didn’t really think she’d change her opinion, but she would at least consider her father’s point of view. “But will you keep an open mind too?”

  Seegen placed his paw over Kasha’s. “Agreed. That is only fair.”

  “So you will come to the game and cheer our team?” she asked.

  “You must!” Boon exclaimed. “With Kasha on our side we have a shot at the championship this year!”

 
Seegen looked from Boon to Kasha. “I can see this means a lot to you.”

  Kasha nodded. “It does.”

  “Then I will be there, daughter. If it is important to you, it is important to me.”

  “Excellent!” Boon said. “Yorn, you should come too. The more cheering us on from the stands the better.”

  “I would not miss it!” Yorn said. “Not with both of you playing.”

  Kasha felt better. She was sure when her father saw her play, he’d change his mind. She would prove to him that wippen was a grand sport—a game of honor and skill. She’d make him as proud of her performance on the wippen field as he was of her work as a forager.

  THREE

  Kasha lapped up water greedily. Her fur was matted with sweat. She’d played hard, and they were taking their first and only break in the wippen game.

  “Looking good out there!” Boon said.

  Kasha nodded. She felt it too. The team was in complete synch, moving as if they were one mind, one body. And she was really on her game today.

  She paced back and forth in the Blue Team break area. She needed to keep her muscles warm and her focus sharp. Wippen took physical strength, skill, quick reflexes, and good strategy.

  She gazed around the stadium. The huge arena was packed. They were nearing the end of the tournament, and each game had higher stakes than the last one. These next three games between Kasha’s Blue Team and the opposing Red Team would determine who won the championship.

  Seats were filled all the way to the bamboo walls that surrounded the grassy field. To one side was the corral holding the zenzens the klees rode; on the other side was the area where the gars waited to enter the game.

  Each team began with twenty gars—ten on the field and ten as backup. Gars were used to steal or pass the ball, and as goalies. Only klees could actually make goals, and they could steal from one another, so gars were also used to block and clear paths for the klees atop the zenzens. As they tired or were injured, new gars would be sent in. In particularly heated games, teams could find themselves without gars at all by the end, forcing the klee players to battle it all out on zenzens. Injuries were common—more among gars, but plenty of klees got hurt too.

  The Blue Team coach, Jorsa, strode into the break area. “The Red Team’s forward klees are stronger riders than passers,” she said. “Force them to pass to their teammates.”

  “The gars are doing their passing for them,” Kasha said.

  “Exactly,” Jorsa said. “We take out the gars, we put them in a weaker position.”

  “Got it!” Kasha said.

  “You and Boon are our strongest riders,” Jorsa continued. “You keep the forwards from being able to pass the ball.”

  Kasha glanced up into the stands. She hadn’t risked checking to see if her father was here before—she’d been too nervous. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to find him out there or not. She would have been disappointed to discover he hadn’t come, but if he was here, she’d feel even more pressure to play well.

  There he was, sitting with Yorn. This was the very first time he had ever come to a game. He really was keeping an open mind. She tingled under her fur with pride.

  Now he’d see what an exciting game this was, and that there was nothing wrong with it. Good. She was glad she had looked. Energy surged through her. She was ready for the final half.

  “Everyone, remount your zenzens!” Jorsa called.

  Kasha retrieved her “scoop”—the long-handled stick with a net attached at one end. She’d use this to catch, carry, and throw the ball. She could also use the handle to knock the ball out of an opposing player’s scoop or a gar’s hands.

  Kasha climbed back up onto her zenzen. In a way, she mused, foraging is good training for wippen—and vice versa. Both activities required keen awareness, teamwork, quick reflexes, and great riding ability. Maybe her father would see that as well.

  The horn blew, indicating the break was over. Kasha was ready.

  “Go in for the face-off,” Jorsa told Kasha.

  “Me?” Kasha hadn’t expected that, but she was honored. That meant the coach really thought she was good.

  Kasha rode the zenzen to the center of the field and faced her opponent from the Red Team.

  The other player was a light-furred female. Her green eyes narrowed and her ears flattened as she faced Kasha. The player gripped her scoop. Kasha clutched hers and pressed her legs into the zenzen’s flanks. She leaned forward, lifting her seat slightly out of the saddle so she was ready to move in any direction.

  Kasha’s teammates rode to their positions around the field. The Red Team players did the same. Gars scattered across the field. They knew if they played well, they’d be rewarded with extra food and treats; if they did poorly, they’d be off the team and lose the privileges that came with being players. All players—gar and klee alike—faced the risks of the fast-moving, highly competitive game.

  Zenzens snorted and stamped hooves, impatient to begin. Kasha was impatient too.

  Tweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet!

  The whistle blew; the game master tossed the ball into the air between Kasha and her Red Team opponent. The final round was on!

  Kasha raced at the ball with her scoop raised. She stood in the stirrups and stretched up—got it! The ball landed in her net.

  The Red Team player charged her, and Kasha hurled the ball to the gar open on the left side of the field. Then she raced her zenzen into position near the goal.

  The gar swooped up the ball and was instantly pounced on by several Red Team gars. Two zenzens thundered toward the pile of gars, and they scattered, not wanting to be trampled.

  Kasha’s gar still clutched the ball. He rolled quickly out of the path of the oncoming hooves and flung the ball away from him. The ball rolled along the ground, and Boon and a Red Team player thundered toward it. Gars from both teams raced alongside them, trying to block. A Red Team gar grabbed the ball and ran to drop it into the net of his teammate’s scoop.

  Boon used the handle of his scoop and tried to knock the ball out of the gar’s hand. His scoop hit the gar, who went down, dropping the ball.

  Boon swooped it up and threw it high and true. “Kasha!” he cried.

  Kasha stood in her stirrups and caught it neatly in her net.

  None of her teammates were in good positions for her to pass. She whistled and one of her team gars dashed over to her. She threw him the ball so he could run with it. He darted in and out of zenzens and gars. He wasn’t allowed to score, but he could maneuver the ball into a better spot. Red Team players went after him, and he, too, went down, losing the ball.

  “Boon!” Kasha pointed toward the ball with her scoop.

  “On it!” Boon shouted. He swooped in, picked it up, and galloped toward the goal.

  Score!

  There was no time to celebrate. Another ball was sent into play and a Red Team gar grabbed it.

  The two teams battled it out. Each gained control of the ball, then lost it; each won a point, pulling into the lead only to have the other team match it. Soon it was the final quarter, and the teams were tied.

  A ball was sent into play.

  Kasha charged for it. She whistled for gars to protect her as she thundered toward the goal.

  “Cover me!” she ordered. She held her scoop high, keeping the ball aloft. Gars flanked her as she rode her zenzen hard to the far side of the field. Red Team gars and klees knocked them out of the way, desperate to reach her. This was the deciding moment.

  Kasha’s eyes flicked to the stands. She wanted her father to see her make the tie-breaking goal.

  Her father—he was frowning.

  Was he worried she wouldn’t make the goal? Or was this disapproval? Injured gars were being carried off the field. But that’s normal, she told herself. And injured klees were taken out by their coaches at the break.

  Kasha was suddenly thrown off balance, and the ball tipped out of her net.

  What just happened?

  T
hen she realized—a Red Team gar had jumped up and yanked her stirrups. Kasha watched in dismay as a Red Team klee quickly scooped up the ball and galloped across the field.

  “Yah!” Kasha shouted, and kicked her zenzen hard. She raced after the ball.

  The Red Team klee passed the ball to a gar positioned near the goal.

  Time to charge!

  Kasha urged the zenzen forward. “Got it!” she shouted to her teammates. “Get ready!” She knew just what to do: slam the gar so it couldn’t get close to the goal.

  The zenzen reacted to every move she made, the way she leaned, the flick of the reins. The gar thought he had the field—most of Kasha’s Blue Team was still at the other end, near their own goal. It was up to her.

  “Yah!” she cried again.

  The gar heard her this time and glanced back at her.

  The gar froze, his face filled with terror as Kasha thundered toward him, ready to move in to steal the ball. It was a perfect setup. Knock him down and grab it. She’d easily throw it to her teammates who dotted the field ready to receive.

  Almost there…almost there…and…

  She yanked hard on the reins and pulled the zenzen to a stop. She stopped so suddenly, she nearly flew over the front of the saddle.

  The gar blinked, then quickly hurled the ball to the Red Team klee positioned just in front of the goal.

  Score for the Red Team!

  The final and winning point.

  It all happened so quickly. Dazed, Kasha slumped in the saddle as the Red Team and their fans cheered.

  She could have won the game for her team. Instead she lost it.

  She could kick herself. What was wrong with her? First she lost the ball by being distracted. Then—and this was the craziest thing of all—she actually stopped herself from using a classic wippen strategy: knock down the gar and steal the ball. She was all set up for it. But she stopped!

  If she hadn’t hesitated, her Blue Team would be enjoying the winners’ ride around the stadium. Instead, they were slinking out to return the zenzens to the corral.

  “You okay?” Boon asked.

  Kasha didn’t respond. She climbed down from the zenzen and began its grooming.