“I die, the heat kills,” Kalaleq said. He was staggering, close to exhaustion.
“Snow, ice,” Niumak said. “That is where the real people belong. Kalaleq speaks truthfully, death from heat comes near.”
There was blue sky ahead and a welcome breeze. The Paramutan praised its cooling touch while Kerrick pushed the leaves aside and looked out at the rocks and the breaking waves below. They were very close to the dock now. There were rounded mounds of some kind behind it, but he could not tell what they were from this distance. Nothing moved, it look deserted.
“I’m going to get closer…”
“I’ll go with you,” Armun said.
“No, I had better go alone. If the murgu are there I’ll come right back. And I know them, know how they react. It would be much more dangerous with you along. The Paramutan would be in the way as well — if they could walk that far. Stay with them. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
She wanted to argue, to go with him — but knew that he was doing the only thing possible. For a moment she held her arms about him, pulled her head against his chest. Then pushed him away and turned to the gasping Paramutan.
“I’ll stay with them. Now go.”
It was hard to move silently through the forest; too many branches had to be pushed aside and the dead wood crackled underfoot. He went faster when he came to a game trail that led down from the hills. It angled off in the right direction, toward the shore, and he followed it with care. When it emerged from the trees he stopped and looked out carefully from behind the screening leaves. The empty dock was directly ahead of him with the high, rounded mounds beside it. They were too smooth and regular to be natural formations — and they had openings like doors let into them.
Should he go any closer? If there were Yilanè inside them — how could he find out? There were no uruketo at the dock, but that meant little since Yilanè could have been left behind.
The sharp crack of the hèsotsan was unmistakable. He hurled himself aside, falling, horribly afraid. The dart must have missed. He had to get away.
There was a crash of heavy feet and even as he struggled to push his way through the screen of young trees he saw the Yilanè run up, hèsotsan half raised. She stopped suddenly when she saw him, her arms curved with a gesture of surprise. Then she raised and aimed the weapon.
“Do not shoot!” he cried out. “Why do you want to kill me? I am unarmed and a friend.”
His spear had fallen from his hand and he pushed it deeper into the undergrowth with his foot as he spoke.
The affect on his attacker was dramatic. She stepped backward and spoke with disbelief.
“This is an ustuzou. It cannot speak — yet it spoke.”
“I can speak and speak well.”
“Explanation of presence here: immediate and urgent.”
The weapon was ready but not pointed at him. That could change in an instant. What could he say? Something, anything to keep her listening.
“I come from far away. I was trained to speak by a Yilanè of great intelligence. She was kind to me, taught me much, I am a friend of the Yilanè.”
“I heard once of an ustuzou that talked. Why are you here alone?” She did not wait for an explanation but raised and pointed her weapon instead. “You have fled your owner, escaped from her, that is what you have done. Stand there and do not move.”
Kerrick did as he had been ordered; he had no choice. Stood there in silence as he heard more footsteps, saw the two fargi come down the path from the forest carrying the body of one of the giant birds. He cursed himself for not realizing that he was walking on a well-trodden path, not a natural game trail. There were Yilanè here after all. And this one, she looked brutal, a hunter just as Stallan had been. She must have been out hunting for fresh meat and had practically stumbled over him. He should have known, a hunter would have seen at once this was not a game trail and would have taken precautions. He had done nothing. The fargi came up, passed him, each rolling one eye as she went by, making muffled remarks of wonderment, their load making speaking difficult.
“Go after them,” the hunter ordered. “Run and you die.”
Kerrick had no choice. He stumbled along the path, numb with despair, toward the rounded constructions on the shore.
“Bring the meat to the butchers,” the hunter ordered. The two fargi went on past the first dome, but the hunter pointed it out to him with signs of entry.
“We go in here. I think that Esspelei will want to see you.”
There was a leathery door set into the side of the dome; it split and opened when he pressed a speckled area. It revealed a short tunnel with another door at the far end, barely seen in the light from the glowing patches on the wall. His captor stood well back; weapon ready, and ordered him forward. He touched the second door and a wave of warm air washed over him as he went into the chamber beyond. The glowing patches were larger and the light was better in here. There were many strange creatures on the ledges, creatures of science, he could tell that much. Charts were on the walls and a Yilanè was bent over one of the instruments.
“Why do you disturb me, Fafnege,” she said with some irritation as she turned about. Her gestures changed instantly to surprise and fear.
“A filthy ustuzou! Why is it not dead, why do you bring it here?”
Fafhege signed superiority of knowledge and contempt for fear. She was very much like Stallan. “You are safe, Esspelei, so do not betray your quivering fright. This is a very unusual ustuzou. Watch what happens when I order it to speak.”
“You are in no danger,” Kerrick said. “But I am. Order this repulsive creature to lower her weapon. I am unarmed.”
Esspelei was rigid with surprise. Long moments passed before she spoke.
“I know of you. I spoke with one who spoke with Akotolp who told her of the ustuzou that speaks.”
“I know Akotolp. She is very-very fat.”
“You must be the one then, for Akotolp is fat. Why are you here?”
“The thing has escaped,” Fafhege said. “There can be no other explanation of its presence. See the ring about its neck? See where a lead has been severed? It has fled its master.”
“Is that what happened?” Esspelei said.
Kerrick was silent, his thoughts jumbled. What should he tell them? Any story would do; they had no ability to lie themselves since their very thoughts showed in the motion of their bodies. But he could lie — and would.
“I did not escape. There was — an accident, a storm, the uruketo was in trouble. I fell into the sea, swam ashore. I have been alone. I am hungry. It is good to be able to speak with Yilanè again.”
“This is of great interest,” Esspelei said. “Fafnege, bring meat.”
“It will run again if we let it. I will order a fargi.” She went out but Kerrick knew she had not gone far. He would escape when he could — but first he needed to get at least some advantage from his capture. He must find out what these Yilanè were doing this far to the north.
“From one of great stupidity to one of highest intelligence; respectful request for knowledge. What do Yilanè need in this cold place?”
“Information,” Esspelei said, answering without thinking, amazed at the presence of the Yilanè ustuzou.
“This a place of science where we study the winds, the ocean, the weather. All of this is beyond you of course; I don’t know why I bother to explain.”
“Generosity of spirit, from highest to lowest. Do you measure the coldness of the winters, the cold winds that blow ever stronger from the north?”