“Here is where I began to understand. The murgu sail only in the south, for you have told me they cannot live in the snow. We live for snow and ice, live only in the north. But things go from south to north, north to south. Here, right here, is a river of warm water in the sea, coming from the south, and we have fished in it. It is rich with food and it runs far north, and I think many fish swim in it for their food. But where does it come from? Can you tell me?” He smiled and smoothed the fur on his cheeks as he waited for an answer.

“From the south?” It did not seem too hard an answer, but it excited Kalaleq.

“Yes, yes, I think so. And you agree with me. So, look, at the murgu chart. If this is land and this is water—then this orange color could be the warm water flowing from south to north. Could it not?”

“It could,” Kerrick agreed, though it could be anything to his untutored eye. With this encouragement Kalaleq rushed on.

“So it ends here at the edge of the chart because the murgu never go north—so this must be north. But before it ends, there is this place on their chart—which I believe is this place on mine! And if that is right—then here on theirs is here on mine—where we are standing right now!”

Kerrick could make no sense of the Paramutan bonework—but there was some logic to the Yilanè chart. The orange swirl could be warm water, that made sense—though, what the blue swirls crossing it were he couldn’t tell. Was all of the green mass ocean? The darker green land? Possibly. He moved his finger down the dark green on the left, traced it downward until it changed to the light green of the sea. In some ways it did look a bit like the model he had seen in Deifoben. And these flakes of golden metal sealed under the surface, out here in the ocean, what could they mean?

Alakas-aksehent. His arms and leg moved slightly as the name came to mind. Alakas-aksehent.

A succession of golden, tumbled stones. They had been pointed out to him when they had gone past them on the uruketo. On the way back to Alpèasak. His finger traced a course through the light green as he thought this, came to the darker green of land. To the two little yellow outlines there. Alpèasak.

The beautiful beaches.

“Kalaleq—you are right. I can understand these charts, they make sense. You are a Paramutan of great wisdom and lead all the world in your knowledge.”

“That is true!” Kalaleq cried out. “I have always known it! If you understand—tell me more of the strange markings.”