There was no real reason to make a fire that evening, other than to drive the biting insects away. The air was warm as always—and Kerrick had eaten raw fish before. And Nadaske detested the smell of smoke, sniffed and withdrew from the traces on Kerrick’s garments. They ate and talked until it was too dark even for twilight talk. Then slept close to each other under the shelter that the two males had grown and shaped in place. It was more like a Yilanè sleeping chamber than a Tanu tent and, for some inexplicable reason, Kerrick slept very, very soundly.

The raw fish did not look that appetizing in the morning. Kerrick took his hèsotsan and walked along the lake to a grove of fruit trees, ate some of that instead. When he returned Nadaske was feeding Imehei, then, when he stirred uncomfortably rolled him over in the water to a better position.

“Will it happen today?” Kerrick asked.

“Today, some day. But it will happen.”

This was the only answer he could get to his question and it was highly unsatisfactory. If he stayed here—how long would it be? He had promised to return quickly—but how quickly? He still felt that Nadaske and Imehei were part of his sammad, just as much as the Tanu, and he owed them equal loyalty. The others would be safe on the island. If he had a responsibility now it was here by the lake.

Easy enough to say. But one day became two, then three. On the fourth day without change Kerrick knew that the time had come to return to the island. He had told Armun it would only be a few days: that time had long since run out. One day more, then he would have to leave, perhaps come back later. But that would mean another long trip, mean being away from the island for an even longer time.

“There is no change,” Nadaske said next morning in response to his unspoken question.

“I think we could use some fresh meat. I am sure that you, like me, have had enough fish.” Nadaske signed modifiers of magnification of statement many times. “I thought so. I saw deer far down the lake. I’ll bring one back.”

It wasn’t only the fresh meat that he wanted. He needed an opportunity to be away from the beach for a time. The sight of Imehei, neither alive nor dead, was one that he found very difficult to bear. This had to be the last day. If nothing happened he would start back in the morning.