Akotolp led the way into the dusky interior, then through another partition into a chamber of darkness. Only when the entrance had been sealed was it possible to see by the weak red glow being emitted by a cage of insects. Ukhereb held up a damp sheet of some white substance with dark marks upon it.

“This image would vanish if exposed to daylight at this moment. I wished the Eistaa to see it at once.”

“Explanation of significance, meaning unclear.” She bent close, following Ukhereb’s pointing thumb.

“Image obtained from high in the air. These are trees around a clearing. This and this are the structures made of animal skins that the killing ustuzou erect. Here a group of three ustuzou, here more. And here and here.”

“I see them now! They are so ugly. They are the same kind as the one killed here in the city?”

“They are the same. See the light fur on the head, skins bound about below.”

“Where are they now?”

“North of the city. Not close, but north of us on an island on the shore. I will have other images for you to look at soon, the processing is now going on. In one of them I believe there is a hèsotsan.”

“One of our hèsotsan,” Lanefenuu said angrily. “This must end. Twice they came here, killed Yilanè, took hèsotsan away with them. This shall not happen a third time.”

TWENTY-NINE

Even though the air was stifling under the trees, the biting insects a torment when they passed through the swampy areas, it was still good to be moving on the trail again. As pleasurable as life had been on the island, it had become a little too much like the valley of the Sasku. The sammads were now in one place and it seemed as though they were going to stay there. In the past there had been winter hunting and summer hunting, the berries and mushrooms of the autumn, the fresh shoots and roots in the spring. All of this had changed. The game was always close by, fruit ripe the year round, more of everything than they could possibly ever eat. But the cycle of the year was in the Tanu blood and they grew restless when they were too long in the same place. Now they were moving, four of them, heading north. Hanath and Morgil scouted ahead, sometimes fell behind and stalked game, ran to catch up with them. For Kerrick and Armun the trek was the greatest pleasure. They were together—and that was enough. They had no regrets at leaving the children behind—since they were far safer in the midst of the sammads than they would have been here on the trail.