I am delighted with your family’s invitation and will speedily make arrangements for my duties to be taken on temporarily by one of the other keepers for the length of my visit. I am sure that you know your family assured me I was welcome to call “on any date, for so long as I wished to stay,” but I thought to ask your advice in this matter. The weather here has been unseasonably warm and fair, but we all know that cannot last forever! I know that the rainy season will soon be upon all of us. Am I too forward in suggesting that I would like to visit while our fine weather holds? What would your preference be for the timing of my visit?

Erek

CHAPTER NINETEEN

MUD AND WINGS

Toward midmorning, Tarman wedged and could go no farther. Leftrin was not surprised. He’d been expecting it to happen for some time. All of yesterday, Tarman’s feet had been firmly planted on the bed of the slough. A few of the keepers had become seasick from the rocking motion that Tarman’s walk contributed to his movement. As the day had progressed and the water grew ever shallower, Leftrin’s concern had increased. He’d sounded the horn to call all of the small boats back to the barge, and then sent them out again in varying directions, in search of deeper water.

When they’d returned that evening, no one had good tidings to report. No detectible current, and the water seemed uniformly shallow in all directions. A straw dropped into the open water beside the boat did float away, but almost immediately got lost in the beds of standing reeds that had encroached ever closer, even as the bluish foothills remained ever distant against a gray backdrop of thick clouds.

The barge stopped of his own accord. For a time, Leftrin sensed the ship standing and thinking. Tarman groped toward him, perhaps seeking an idea that Leftrin didn’t have. Then, with a very small lurch, Tarman folded his legs and settled in the mud. The barge he had carried on his back floated slightly now. A wave of sadness and resignation flowed up Leftrin’s chest and settled around his heart. They’d come to their stopping place. It wasn’t Kelsingra.

“Cap?” This from Swarge at the tiller. It had been weeks since anyone had kept up the illusion that Tarman needed to be poled through the water. Tarman usually appreciated the humans’ efforts to speed him along, but in water this shallow, the poling only threw him off stride.