“I will take you and show you. When we understood how Ugunenapsa was guiding us we sought ways to show our appreciation. All now wish to work in the city of life and hurry to volunteer. Those with the most talents, such as fishing or horticulture, lead the way. They seek your guidance in matters they are not sure of and celebrate your safe return.”

Ambalasei straightened up and walked the length of the dock, then back. The evening breeze was cooler and it would soon be time to sleep. She turned to Enge and held up her clasped thumbs to indicate that an important question was held between them.

“All of this pleases me, as you correctly said. Though I will be pleased even more when I see the system in operation. But has Ugunenapsa in her wisdom revealed to you the answer to the other vital question that I asked you?”

It was Enge’s turn to sign a worried negative. “If she only could. The pleasure I have gained in the salvation of the city is lost in the reality that I see no salvation for the Daughters of Life. We will remain here, studying Ugunenapsa’s wisdom, and grow old in our studies.”

“Grow old and die and that will be the end of everything.”

“Everything,” Enge echoed in tones and overtones dark as death itself. She shook herself as though a cold wind had brushed her, held out her hands and willed them to turn from the dark green of grief to a roseate color of hope. “Yet I will not stop searching for an answer to this. One must exist. It is my own inferior inability to recognize it that is the problem. You do think that there is an answer, don’t you, great Ambalasei?”

Ambalasei did not speak. That was kindest. She turned away and directed her attention to the water and sky. But the failing light made her think of death.

Death was something that Vaintè never considered. Nor life either. She just existed. Catching fish when she grew hungry, drinking at the spring when thirsty. It was a mindless and empty existence which suited her now. Occasionally when she did think of the things that had happened she grew restless and uncomfortable and clashed her teeth together in the grip of strong emotions. She did not like that.

It was better not to dwell on such disturbing matters, best not to think at all.

Fanasso to tundri hugalatta, ensi to tharmanni—foa er suas tharm, so et hola likiz modia.

TANU SAYING

Keep your gaze on the forest and not on the stars—or you may catch sight of your own tharm up there.

EIGHT

Kerrick called a halt when the heat under the trees became oppressive.