Tathenal appeared from further up the strand, dragging another uprooted tree. Upon hearing Garelko’s cry, he paused and looked up. ‘You haunt that poor beast like a wolf its kill. Leave off that which you cannot claim, unless by stink alone you would assert kinship.’

‘Wait!’ said Garelko, peering down. ‘What glimmer is this I see? Ah, nothing but the picked bones of Tathenal’s curiosity. ‘Twas but the tiniest bird, if one can judge said bones. Do you still hear the snicker of pincers in your ears, O brother of fate? Why, they must have set upon you in the night.’

‘What truths then does the dead beast yield?’ Tathenal asked.

‘Many truths, Tathenal.’ Garelko waded back on to the shore. ‘By gleaning examination of myriad details, I conclude, for example, that the dragon did not make that cairn of stones in which was entombed Ravast’s battleaxe.’

‘Indeed? Then did it not crush its own skull either?’

‘I wager that gift belonged to Erelan Kreed.’

‘Why, such perception in old Garelko! But can you be certain that it was not the ravenous crayfish that scuttled in sudden ambush, whilst the wounded beast wallowed in the shallows?’

‘Your mocking words, Tathenal, well match your ignorance. I felt the snip of pincers and can tell you, only a fool would underestimate their vicious efficacy.’

‘A foolish dragon, at the very least,’ Ravast suggested as he emerged from the hut and made his way down on to the shoreline. ‘Tathenal, I see you have collected for us another tree. Will you add it to the seven others and make for us a neat pile?’

Tathenal scowled up at him. ‘The dream felt very real, pup. I tell you, we all came close to drowning, and if not for the ship I built, blessed as I was by premonition, we would all be dead now.’

‘Dead in your dream realm, you mean.’

‘And who is to say that such realms are lacking in verisimilitude, Ravast? Indeed, that realm may well be the repository of our precious souls, and should we die in it, we would awaken with lifeless eyes and an insatiable predilection for funereal attire. Dour and solemn may well describe your tastes in fashion, but not mine!’

‘But Tathenal,’ said Ravast, ‘by all means build your timbered salvation, only do it in your sleep, in the realm where it will be needed.’ He gestured at the uprooted trees now lining their camp. ‘These will avail you not, unless you envision a ship able to ply waters both real and imagined.’

‘Wise observation,’ observed Garelko, now studying Tathenal with some scepticism. ‘And one which had already occurred to me, since it is the eldest who know wisdom. Perhaps, in reconsidering Ravast’s words, it would be better to conclude not wisdom, but the youthful quickness of the youthful mind, that so swiftly rushes to the place of obvious absurdity, particularly when contemplating someone else’s efforts.’