“We didn’t know what to do,” said the travel leader. “Our shamaness decided to ask for advice. She sent us to the Amber People to ask for their opinion. Another group has gone to the Iron People and another to the People of Fur and Tin.
“We have a quarrel going with the Gold People. They’re our closest neighbors. They have tongues like knives and they like to make up satiric poetry. We aren’t going to ask them for anything.”
“Also,” said another woman, “they live in the high mountains. We don’t like going there. Hu! It is dark! The trail goes up and down!”
“We are people of the plain,” said the leader. “We like to be able to see all the way to the horizon.”
Nia made the gesture of agreement. “The Iron People have agreed to let the hairless people visit. I don’t know what the Amber People have decided.”
“That is how you know,” said the travel leader. “You have seen these people.”
“Yes,” said Nia. “But I had not seen the kind of boat you describe.”
The women asked questions. Nia said as little as possible. She didn’t want to describe the long journey from the east. She didn’t want to explain why she hadn’t been living with her own people.
“It’s obvious that you know more than you are telling,” the travel leader said finally. “That’s your decision and not our problem. We have been sent to the Amber People.”
The next day the women continued on their journey. Nia finished working at the forge.
“I’ve been waiting for this,” said Tanajin.
Nia made the gesture of inquiry.
“Ulzai keeps appearing in my dreams. He speaks urgently. I don’t understand him. Usually he is wet. That ought to mean he has drowned, but I don’t know for certain. What does he want? Why is he bothering me?”
Nia made the gesture of ignorance.
“I am going to make a new raft and float downriver. I’ll ask about him in the village of the hairless people. Maybe they have found his body.
“After that I’ll keep going. There is a village on the river below the lake. The people there never move. Their houses are wood. They are always in them.” Tanajin paused.
“Their gift is a certain kind of very large fish. They smoke it and pickle it. They also preserve the eggs of the fish and the stuff that the male fish produce. Their shamaness is famous for her wisdom. I’m going to ask her to explain my dreams. Maybe I need a ceremony of propitiation.”
“That could be,” said Nia. “What about the crossing?”
“People can do what they used to do before I came.”
“The crossing has been your gift.”
“You will continue traveling. That’s the kind of person you are. If I stay here alone, I’ll go crazy. I’ll find a new gift—maybe among the Fish Egg People, maybe farther south.”
Nia helped Tanajin build the raft. It took five days. When they were finished she said, “Teach me how to paddle.”
“Why?” asked Tanajin.
“I think I’ll stay here for a while. When people come, I’ll take them across. I’ll explain that you have gone, and that I will be leaving soon. The news will get around. People will know to bring axes with them.”
Tanajin made the gesture of agreement.
She stayed another fifteen days. They spent most of their waking time on the water. Nia learned how to swing the big heavy paddle and what lay under the surface of the river. There were islands that only appeared in the very worst dry years, but they were always there and the raft might get caught on one. There were logs—more than any person could count. Some floated on top of the water. Others floated underneath. Some had gotten caught in the mud of the river bottom and stood upright like living trees, their branches reaching toward the surface. Others were held less tightly by the mud and swung back and forth in the water.
“Like reeds in the wind,” said Tanajin. “Or a tree that is starting to break.”
“Aiya!” said Nia.
“Every kind of log is dangerous. If the raft gets caught, you may not be able to get free. Never let a rope trail. Always carry a knife. Always keep an eye on the surface. If there are swirls and eddies—avoid that place!”
“There is more to this than I realized,” said Nia.
Tanajin barked. “You people in the north are so ignorant! You think the river is like the plain. You think that everything that matters is on the surface, where any fool can see it.”
Nia kept her teeth clenched together. A teacher always had the right to at least a few insults. Everyone knew that. It was true among all peoples.
Finally Tanajin said, “You aren’t skillful yet, and you don’t know enough about the river, but I think you’ll be able to manage. I’ll leave you now.”
Nia made the gesture of acknowledgment.
The next morning Tanajin piled her belongings on the new raft. Nia helped push the raft out into the river. Tanajin climbed on and made the gesture of farewell.
Nia waved in answer.
The raft floated out. Tanajin began to swing the paddle. Nia watched. The woman grew smaller and smaller. At last she was gone. The raft became a dot on the wide and shining river. Nia shaded her eyes. The raft was gone.
She moved her belongings into the empty tent, but she didn’t sleep in it. It smelled of Tanajin, and the walls were braced with pieces of wood. They were too solid. A proper house ought to shift in the wind—not much, but enough so the people inside knew what was happening on the plain.
Every evening she took a blanket out front. She lay down by the fire and looked up. She began to notice things.
One was a light that moved like a moon, but was the wrong color: a silvery white. It followed a new trail, different from any of the old moons. Night after night it crossed above her. She had no idea what it was. Had one of the Two Lost Women come back?
There was a new star, too. It appeared in the same place every evening: at the center of the sky. The other stars moved around it. It did not move at all.
There were other lights: red and white and green. For the most part they were in the south, close to the horizon. They moved rapidly in all directions.
She became uneasy. It was one thing for the hairless people to make a new kind of cloud. There were a lot of different kinds of clouds, and they were always changing. One more kind wasn’t likely to cause trouble. But a new star! A new moon! Lights that wandered like bugs! Here! There! Up! Down!
Smoke rose on the far side of the river. She went over. A man waited there. A big fellow with iron-gray fur.
“Who are you?” he asked. “Where is Tanajin?” He spoke with an accent she did not recognize.
“She left. I am taking care of the crossing.”
“Huh!” the man said.
She took him across the river, along with two bowhorns. He gave her salt in a leather bag. The leather was thin and soft. She did not know what kind of animal it came from. The man did not explain who he was or why he was traveling through the land of the Iron People. Nia decided not to ask.
More days passed. The new moon kept traveling over. The new star remained at the center of the sky. Every few days she saw another one of the long clouds.
The Basket Women returned. Their leader said the Amber People had not been a lot of help. “They are busy performing ceremonies of aversion and propitiation. Something has gone wrong. They wouldn’t tell us what, except to say the Trickster was behind it.
“This is a spirit we don’t know about, though he sounds a bit like our Bird-faced Woman. A troublemaker! A sneak and liar! Though I have to say we owe a lot to the Bird-faced Woman. She gave us fire and taught us how to weave baskets.”
Another woman said, “We shouldn’t be too grateful. She convinced the First People that there was nothing wrong with incest. And she let the small black bug of death loose in the world.”