“Six hundred years ago,” said Dag, “this whole region from the Dead Lake to nearly the southern seacoast was all unpeopled wilderness. Some Lakewalkers from this hinterland went down to the coasts, east and south, where there were some enclaves of folks—your ancestors—surviving. They persuaded several groups to come up here and carve out homes for themselves. The idea was that this area, south of a certain line, had been cleared enough of malices to be safe again. Which proved to be not quite the case, although it was still much better than it had once been. Promises were exchanged…fortunately, my people still remember what they were. There were two more main plantations, one east at Tripoint and one west around Farmer’s Flats, besides the one south of the Grace at Silver Shoals that most folks around here eventually came from. The homesteaders’ descendants have been slowly spreading out ever since.

“There were two notions about this scheme among the Lakewalkers— still are, in fact. One faction figured that the more eyes we had looking for malice outbreaks, the better. The other figured we were just setting out malice food. I’ve seen malices develop in both peopled and unpeopled places, and I don’t see much to choose between the horrors, so I don’t get too excited about that argument anymore.”

“So Lakewalkers were here before farmers,” said Fawn slowly.

“Yes.”

“What was here before Lakewalkers?”

“What, you know nothing?”

“You don’t have to sound so shocked,” she said, obviously stung, and he made a gesture of apology. “I know plenty, I just don’t know what’s true and what’s tall tales and bedtime stories. Once upon a time, there was supposed to have been a chain of lakes, not just the big dead one. With a league of seven beautiful cities around them, commanded by great sorcerer-lords, and a sorcerer king, and princesses and bold warriors and sailors and captains and who knows what all. With tall towers and beautiful gardens and jeweled singing birds and magical animals and holy whatnot, and the gods’ blessings flowing like the fountains, and gods popping in and out of people’s lives in a way that I would find downright unnerving, I’m pretty sure. Oh, and ships on the lakes with silver sails. I think maybe they were plain white cloth sails, and just looked silver in the moonlight, because it stands to reason that much metal would cap-size a boat. What I know is the tall tale is where they say some of the cities were five miles across, which is impossible.”