See Author's Notes at the end.

xXx

Escthta's sleep was fragmented the night before they reached the homeworld. He had spent much of his time in seclusion with H'chak-di, and they had worked out a rudimentary form of language using hand signals and grunts, but more than that, he was actually able to sense thoughts with more precision. It was as if a lens had brought her more into focus. Instead of needing a powerful emotional response to feel her out, he was constantly aware of her emotional state, and even her more inwardly directed feelings.

He had felt her embarrassment as he walked around nude after bathing. He had felt the frustration of being locked in a small room for weeks. He felt her loathing of the silence, and her relief when taken out for walks. Soon, he thought, he would be able to sense her very thoughts, read her mind like a scroll constantly unfurling, and the thought disquieted him. He, of course, wanted to know what she thought of him, but the niggling voice at the back of his mind continued to suggest that she found him disgusting, though he had not felt it from her.

What was worse for him was being unable to address her concerns, and subsequently realizing that her concerns mattered. She had become more than a piece of the Council's cargo. She was a companion and he worried for her welfare. As he emerged from sleep, she was his first thought, and his initial dependence on her after his duel with Gulchak had turned into a grudging fondness. Even bleary-eyed after sleep, her round, pale face was no longer ugly and repulsive. Her respect and manner had completely changed his view of humans, and he wondered, after he had turned her over to the Council, if he would ever be able to Hunt their kind again.

Today, he knew. Today, he would be taking her off the Zanna and onto the homeworld. She had the dubious honor of being the first of her race there alive, and he felt slightly proud to be part of such a historical event. Escthta had not managed to squash his suspicion of Thtarok, nor had he worked out a reason for the Council to need a human. But it was not his place to ask questions. He was nearing the end of his mission and perhaps the light at the end of the tunnel would reveal all he needed to know.

xXx

Hir'cyn waited at the fifth pad for the dropship from the Zanna. He straightened his half-cloak over his shoulders, smoothed his tress, checked his rings, but the ship still did not materialize out of the grey sky. He grunted softly, perturbed at having to wait in such a tense frame of mind, but it was his own fault; he had arrived well before the scheduled time. He had nothing else to do, rather, nothing else he could focus his mind on.

The human was here. In all his years as Elder, the arrival of a human on the homeworld meant fear and death. Humans preferred mechanical arms and more than once he had seen their thermal devices level installations. If they ever found the homeworld, there would be no mercy. They would bomb them from orbit, killing thousands. He suppressed the bitter taste of hate in his mouth. He held no love for the humans; he disliked their impersonal methods of death-dealing, lacking in honor and finesse. He had not yet met a human that was worth leaving alive, and though he knew of some that had, he found it the exception rather than the rule.

So it was with great trepidation that he awaited the arrival of the human female and her escort, the very yautja that a few months ago had faced one of the most dangerous creatures they had ever encountered and fought it to a draw. He could think of no other Hunter as capable as Escthta to defend the human from those who would harm her. And yet, he felt supremely disquieted by the choice. He knew Escthta was a dreamer, an idealist, and the presence of a live human, rather than disgust him, might intrigue him.

He heard the distant roar of thrusters, and saw them approach. The small timepiece in the covered area near the landing pad told the fourth hour before midday, right on time. He squinted as the craft landed, boxy and unattractive, on the pad. It looked nothing like the ship it fit into, but it had served them well. He clasped his hands behind his back and waited. The wind created by the ship blew his cloak out of its carefully placed position, but his mind was elsewhere, and he scarcely noticed it.

The landing platform came down and Hir'cyn saw Escthta's tall form appear. At his side was a small humanoid that barely reached his pectorals. It must have been less than six feet tall. They drew near, and he saw the human, pale and hideous, for the first time. It was petite, ugly, with lanky, unbraided hair, and a long, formless dress. He had battled the males for ages, but he, like Escthta, had assumed the females would be more impressive. Instead, they were more diminutive. Hir'cyn felt his tenseness abate somewhat, but it returned when he noticed the human was not restrained in any way.

"I come bearing the greetings of my Leader, Cthinde." Escthta gave the traditional formal greeting. Hir'cyn nodded acknowledgement, but could not stop studying the female human. She stared ahead blankly, and when Hir'cyn stepped into the path of her gaze, she met his eyes. There was fear there, he saw. Fear and confusion. But there was no anger, no hatred, and it puzzled Hir'cyn all the more.

"I accept your greetings. I bring tidings from the Council." Hir'cyn finally moved his eyes to Escthta. Was he imagining things, or had Escthta grown older in the weeks he'd been away? There was a weariness to his eyes that Hir'cyn knew, as he had seen it in his own reflection. Something had changed the young storyteller, aged and strengthened him. "You and your charge are to rest and then meet the Council immediately in the morning." Hir'cyn lifted his eyes to Escthta. "The human is to be kept out of sight. We'll be using an enclosed car to get around."

Escthta rested a hand on the human's shoulder. "Her name is H'chak-di," he said, almost reluctantly. She lifted her head and looked at him, mimicking the name. Hir'cyn could not suppress his surprise.

"You named her?"

"I had to call her something."

"Why not just 'human'?"

"She-" Escthta paused. "We can communicate, to a limited degree."

"Communicate?" Any pretense of diplomacy was dropped as Escthta showed him the motions for bathe and eat, earning a lively response from the female. Hir'cyn gaped openly at her. As Escthta explained to him what the signs meant, Hir'cyn's preconceptions began to wobble. The human was animated when spoken to, and it bared its teeth often.

"She's happy, when she does that," said Escthta, hastily explaining the normally threatening gesture. Hir'cyn nodded, although he hadn't taken offense at all. He tilted his head, looking at this oddity, and then shook it, sighing in disbelief. "I have been charged with your welfare while you are here. Obviously you will be quartered in the Elders' Hall, but have you any other needs?"

"I could use a trip to the baths," Escthta offered. Hir'cyn nodded, with only a passing glance at H'chak-di. The motorized car, covered and shielded, waited nearby. The cabin door hung open, and they climbed in, H'chak-di awkwardly leaning against Escthta as the three of them departed for the baths.

xXx

Anise had grown numb to the newness sometime ago. She ached with questions, but the limited dialogue she shared with Talon could not address them. As it was, she was eager to see new places, but she couldn't shake her apprehension about leaving the starship. Something was going on, and she wasn't sure she liked it.

The two Hunters talked in low voices inside the black craft. There was no engine noise that she could discern, nor driver. The windows in the cabin proved one-way; they had mirrored her face when she climbed in, and there would be no way for someone else to see in. She, however, could see out quite clearly.

Spires of metal gleamed faintly in the overcast light. Dawn had come some six hours ago, by her reckoning; the Hunters' day was half again as long as the human one. Most of the buildings were squat, stepped pyramids, although the tiny suggestion of movement told their true size; massive structures almost beyond her grasp. Their sides were smooth, but engraved in places with three-sided glyphs and architectural details. Their car wound its way through the nearly deserted streets almost by feel.

Anise could not get enough of the alien city, and she pressed her face to the glass, craning her neck to see a large domed building receding into the distance. They passed between buildings and it was lost from sight. Next to her, Talon murmured something, and she turned to look at him, yearning to ask him questions. She had not yet named the older one, with the graying locks. He must be a superior of some kind; he wore a cloak, which not even Fang had done. Anise guessed that age brought respect, and wondered anew how someone like her would ever fare amongst them. She watched him for a moment, trying to find a defining characteristic, but she felt the tug of gravity slowing their car before she had come up with one.

They emerged at a great stone building, with friezes of warriors overlooking a large courtyard. It, too, was nearly deserted, but the old one and Talon hurried her over the pavement almost faster than her legs could walk. They swept through the courtyard's sparsely planted grounds and into the building itself. She wrinkled her nose, the smell of minerals and steam warming her lungs. They stopped only for a moment, and then they were off again, through endless corridors, and finally into a room buried in a rarely-used wing.

She found herself face-to-face with a somber-looking Hunter. He was gaunt and pale, so that even his markings were washed out, and he had long, thin fingernails that were sharpened to points. At his side was a small, nervous-looking sort, a Hunter with shifty eyes. Both of them, dressed in the servant's simple loincloth, remained silent even when confronted with a human; compared with the response of the slave a few weeks ago, Anise was gratified to see such stony expressions. She tried to smile, but the nervous one had begun shifting his weight from leg to leg, and she decided that her time would be better spent in the corner, trying to be invisible.

As she turned to make herself scarce, she found that Talon had already stripped down, and was standing with his arms lifted away from his sides. She still couldn't get used to the freedom with which he displayed his body. She hadn't missed the obvious anatomical resemblance to human males, and she also hadn't missed the complete lack of inhibition. She supposed it was normal in his society, but she continued to cover her own body as much as she could.

The small nervous Hunter began to pick at Talon's skin, and as it discarded what it found, she realized he was being deloused, cleaned of vermin. They were invisible to her eyes, but she examined the bowl the gory insects were deposited in. They were small and round, their exoskeletons taut with the blood they had sucked out of Talon. She froze as she realized that she had shared close quarters with him, and she might also be carrying an infestation. Her face became visibly disgusted, and she started to chafe her arms, trying to feel for bugs.

The thinner Hunter with the fingernails like spikes was tugging at the older one's head. Below his nails, hair flowed freely, finer than any human hair she had ever seen. The servant was braiding his hair back, tightening the dreadlocks into the smooth, lacquered tresses she had seen on all the Hunters.

After the braider finished, they exchanged places; the old one was examined for parasites and Talon's hair was braided. She saw it fully down, a sleek curtain of black that went past his knees, but when braided up, ended at the small of his back. The process was painful; more than once she saw him wince as the braider tugged at a bit of hair too firmly.

Finally, they were done, and she saw the nervous one eye her warily. With the expectant eye of Talon on her, she reluctantly disrobed, feeling her body shrink under their gaze. The delouser crept close to her, looking up at her face with a measured gaze; although he was larger than she, his body was doubled down. The braider also advanced toward her, but she held out a hand. "That's okay, I can braid my own hair, thanks." The braider wasn't swayed, and it was only an admonition from Talon that stopped his advance. He half looked insulted, but Talon paid him well for his time, and he disappeared outside the door after pinning her with a scowl.

The delouser, however, was eagerly circling her, and she shrank from his touch as he investigated inflammations and infections. His nails bit into her more than once, digging insects out of her flank and under her arms. Anise whimpered at the bloody bits of flesh the bugs took with them, their last meal, but finally, the delouser was satisfied. Anise took a small amount of comfort in the fact that the number of red-tinted bugs was much fewer than the green-covered ones.

xXx

Hir'cyn was staring at the human female. She still didn't have a name as far as he was concerned. Paya, her body was hideous; weak and malformed, with little or no muscle tone. Her breasts were larger than need be, looking bulbous and poorly streamlined in comparison to the breasts of yautja females. Her body was soft and curvy; it barely looked as if it could support its own weight. He shook his head. Human females were nothing compared to their females. He turned to Escthta and was brought up short.

The other yautja was watching the delouser, concern knitting his brow. Hir'cyn chattered inquisitively at him. "You look like someone called off the Hunt," he offered, opening the conversation as a distraction from the female's yelps of pain. Escthta shook his head, breaking his gaze off the human. "My apologies. I have… grown accustomed to her."

In a few short sentences, Escthta related their close living conditions over the past few weeks, which Hir'cyn received gravely. He knew that it would only complicate things when the human had to be handed over to Thtarok. He grunted softly, and he knew that Escthta knew the situation as well as he did. "You shouldn't get attached," Hir'cyn advised, although he knew it was too late.

"I won't," replied Escthta.

The delouser finished, and the three of them moved to a private bath across the hall. The room, including the sunken bath, were lined with a cream-colored marble, shadowed by hidden lamps that warmed the room's color with lamplight. It was typical for the 'breeding baths', as they were called; the privacy afforded those about to mate was sacrosanct and none would violate it if the two chose to complete the act here. It was the perfect place to have a clandestine meeting about the only living human on this planet. Of course, only the discreet staff would ever know a human had been here, and they would not speak.

The bath was some fifteen feet across; nearly ten yautja could soak in it comfortably. It clouded the room with fragrant steam, and Escthta welcomed it; real mineral springs had the stink of the earth about them. H'chak-di had cast him a tentative look, and he felt her apprehension. Although he did not know why she was apprehensive, it was only after he eased into the bath that he turned his mind to it. No matter how he coaxed H'chak-di, she continued to sit near the side, even after he and Hir'cyn had relaxed into a drowsy conversation.

"Things have been three sorts of strange since the Council adjourned," Hir'cyn opened.

"How do you mean?" Escthta's speech had lost some of its formality; they were speaking as two men who were sharing a drink, the kind of conversation that can cross castes.

"The females left, but the Matriarch is still here."

"Matriarch?"

Hir'cyn lifted his head and fixed Escthta with stern eyes. "Yes. The females' Leader. And subsequently ours." The brief explanation that followed floored Escthta, but he could hardly have expected anything less, with the females being the stronger members of their race. Hir'cyn relaxed his head back against the lip of the bath, continuing, "And she's still here."

"Even though she lives with the females on the broodworld."

"Right. So the City's been ass-over-tip for weeks." Formality had fallen completely by the wayside.

"So she's waiting for something. For… her." Escthta turned and looked at H'chak-di, who lifted her head off her knees when his gaze was directed at her.

Hir'cyn nodded. "That's what I had guessed as well. There are larger things than research involved here if the Matriarch has postponed her return to the broodworld."

Escthta stared at H'chak-di for a moment more, and then rolled his head to the side to look at Hir'cyn. "You have a guess."

Hir'cyn was surprised, but did not let his face tell it. "I do. I have recently been in the Library of Pthor'da."

Escthta was vaguely familiar with the Library. When the tribal cities coalesced into one metropolis as the yautja made the jump from the planet, all the records from each tribe, each province, were collected in the Library. It was the sole resting place of all their recorded history. It was all but ignored, and the Librarians were ancient, all Elders that gave up Hunts to preserve the past. The Library's existence threatened to die with them.

"What of the Library?"

Hir'cyn shifted in the water, and began to relate his experience.

xXx

The Library was six levels, a strangely square building in the midst of pyramids. On the fifth level, the fourth above ground, Hir'cyn was browsing through the bound copies of tribal records. He had a secret fascination with the human military; they sought violence and death without seeking the honor that came with it. In his search for understanding the motives of his human opponents, he had become an expert on early yautja warfare. It had been warfare, in fact, that was the root of the modern kehrite and all incarnations of structured dueling.

Armies of yautja, when confronting each other for the first time, would send out their commanders to meet each other in battle. The two postured, each proclaiming he was the strongest or most glorious, and then the armies would retreat and prepare for battle. But on one occasion, a commander went too far and struck the opposing general. It degenerated into a fist fight, and eventually the opposing general was victorious. The other army, shamed by its leader's loss, retreated to prepare for battle, but were slaughtered the next day, their morale in shreds. The "commander's trial", the kehrite, became the ring in which honor and lives were won and lost.

Hir'cyn had discovered that early yautja had more in common with humans than seemed possible with mere coincidence. Cultural similarities were underlined by biological ones; humans also possessed a four-chambered heart and breathed oxygen, although their atmosphere was more rich in nitrogen than that of the homeworld. Their brains were structured similarly, with the seat of instinctual function small and neglected under the large lobes of the cerebral cortex.

Yautja, evolving in more high-pressure circumstances, could not afford to lose that part of the brain which managed instinctual behavior. The braincase, originally of a uniform size, changed shape to allow the burgeoning hypothalamus and enlarged pituitary gland room. The brain itself changed, growing into the larger skull, and with it came higher brain function. However, yautja young were born earlier and earlier to allow the skull enough clearance through the birth canal. Gestation times had stabilized around 1 year, nearly three whole months less than that of the next youngest ancestor.

It was similar to the race against nature that humans had experienced; it and many more like it had kinked the corners of Hir'cyn's mind. He could not wholly dismiss humans as simply meat. They, like yautja, were Paya's creations. Paya had not done anything without reason- there must be some clue in her writings or their history that would shed light on the strange pink aliens. War accounts were simply a hobby for Hir'cyn, but he found himself spending more and more time poring over archaeological reports, trying to find something that would negate the tenuous link between yautja and humans.

"You spend a great deal of time here, Elder."

Hir'cyn forcibly stopped his muscles from jumping as he turned to face the speaker. One of the Librarians had appeared around the edge of the bookcase, wearing the strange habit of the learned, a plain brown tunic, belted with a wide strip of hide and shrouded in a deep green robe. Noskor had once considered the trade, but Tjat'le's offer of Councilmember had deprived the Library of the one that might have revived it.

"Those who are not familiar with history are doomed to repeat it," Hir'cyn replied.

The Librarian's tusks, rounded with age and use, curved in the faint sign of amusement. "A sentiment I wish more were familiar with."

The Librarian stepped into the narrow space between bookcases, trapping Hir'cyn between himself and the wall. Hir'cyn tensed imperceptibly; the Librarian meant no harm, and would not be able to hold his own against the younger Hunter.

"I have been watching your movements for a long time, Hir'cyn." The name sounded like a hiss, and it grated on Hir'cyn's ears.

"I wasn't aware that Librarians made a habit of spying on their patrons." He could not keep the icy chill out of his voice. The Librarian raised his clawed hand in defense.

"Now, then, you can't pretend that you would simply blend into the crowds, Elder." The Librarian's laugh was a dry rattle. "After all, there are few that come here."

Hir'cyn eased the book he'd been holding back into its place. "That is true enough." He folded his arms across his chest and faced the scholar, looking as menacing as possible. "And?"

The Librarian, sensing at last the other Hunter's discomfort, moved out into the corridor the bookcases made. "Walk with me," he said, and he moved off down the hall.

Hir'cyn followed him, his strides easily matching the measured ones of his host.

"I have seen you looking at old archaeological records, as well as signing out our oldest texts. You are searching for something, Elder, and it does not want to be found." The lowered tones did not echo off the stone walls, and Hir'cyn frowned. "How could you possibly know what I am searching for?"

The Librarian's steps did not falter, but he adjusted his threadbare robe, pulling it closer around himself.

"These books and scrolls are my family, Elder. They serve me when Clan cannot. I know each and every one of them, the secrets they hold, and which combinations will lead to knowledge instead of dead ends." The Librarian stopped as they rounded a corner. The halls were empty, but he still seemed ill at ease. His voice was strained with frustration.

"If you had any need of knowledge, Elder, you should have come to me first. I would have been discreet, but you tried to research in the open air. Paya only knows how many people have learned of your strange leanings."

He lowered his voice to a rushed whisper. "Tell me what you want to know."

Hir'cyn felt his heart speed up, as if he was preparing for a Hunt. He could find what he was looking for. He kept his voice low, as the Librarian had. "Tell me, Learned One. In all my readings, I have seen nothing but links between yautja and human. I know both races are Paya's children, but everything suggests something more."

The Librarian blinked slowly and then sighed, leaning forward. Hir'cyn leaned forward as well, turning his head to hear the old voice better.
"Humans do indeed have far more to do with us than you or I ever suspected, Hir'cyn." The Librarian looked up as one of the lifts chimed the arrival of an occupant. "The time is soon approaching when only their existence can preserve our own."

Another Librarian moved quietly from the lift to another room further down the hall. When the echo of the firmly shut door had faded, the Librarian continued, "What remains to be seen, and something neither you nor I can control, is how the Council will act when such time arrives."

The old one seemed peculiarly amused by the end of his statement, an odd smile curving his tusks. He shuffled off down the hall without another word, his moss-green robe collecting dust, and leaving Hir'cyn alone on the fifth floor of the Library.

xXx

Escthta digested the tale slowly. "So you think the Librarian was trying to tell you something about what the Matriarch is doing?"

Hir'cyn nodded. "The Librarians are the oldest group of yautja in one place. Strange knowledge comes their way. I don't think he would have said anything if she didn't have anything to do with it." Hir'cyn gestured at H'chak-di, and then looked at her.

Escthta followed his gaze and then chattered approvingly. The human had climbed down into the water and the heat was giving her skin a pink glow. The water contained a mild coagulant and it had already stopped the bleeding from the mites. She was reluctant to approach closer, however, preferring to remain on the other side of the bath. Escthta shrugged, glad she was at least using the bath's therapeutic qualities.

Hir'cyn was quietly regarding H'chak-di, and Escthta took advantage of the break in the conversation to think over what he had learned from Yugmnelsh. H'chak-di had a power, but what it was, he had not been able to figure out. Now, he felt as if he was one step closer to solving the mystery of her gift; it had to have something to do with the Matriarch's presence and the Librarian's warning. What great power did H'chak-di have sealed inside her that could turn the yautja world on its ear?

xXx

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry this chapter has been so long in the coming, but things have been crazy. Between the semester beginning, and Katrina blowing through (and a tree falling on my car in the process), it's been tough finding time to do anything I consider a hobby. There were also turning points in plot that needed to be ironed out, and I hope they have done so to your satisfaction. Moreover, they have done so to mine.

This chapter is one of the things I wish I did not have to do, but it was a necessary evil: a massive dump of information that seems, at first, wholly out of place. I have tried my best to deliver the messages without blowing the story's cover and without it seeming like a roll-call of secrets. The etymology of 'kehrite' is something I came up with, naturally. Brains were also human-derived, for reasons you shall see later.