Armun waded ashore in silence. She had so much to say that it was easier to say nothing. She stood knee-deep in the sea, clutching the fire-box to her, watching as the dark shape of the boat moved silently away. The moon had set and the starlight was not bright enough to reveal his face. Then they were gone, a black blur in the greater darkness. She turned and waded wearily ashore.

“Oh we are dead, dead,” Kalaleq muttered between his chattering teeth. “Consumed by these giant murgu.”

“There is nothing to fear. They do not move at night. Now put me ashore for it is almost dawn. You know what you are to do?”

“I know, I have been told.”

“I will tell you again, just to be sure. Are you sure the ularuaq poison will kill one of these creatures?”

“They are dead. They are no bigger than a ularuaq. My stab is sure death.”

“Then do it, swiftly, as soon as I am ashore. Kill them—but just two of them, no more. Be sure of that because it is most important. Two of them must die.”

“They die. Now go—go!”

The boat moved swiftly away even before Kerrick had reached dry sand. The morning star was bright on the horizon, the first gray of dawn below it. Now was the time. He took off his hide coverings, the wrappings from his feet, until all that remained was a soft leather breechclout. His spear was still in the boat, he was unarmed. He touched the metal knife that hung about his neck, but it had no edge, was just an ornament.

Shoulders back and head high, limbs curved slightly into the arrogance of superiority, completely alone, he strode forward into the Yilanè city of Ikhalmenets.

ninlemeistaa halmutu eisteseklem.

YILANÈ APOTHEGM

Above the eistaa is only the sky.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

The loud shouts woke Lanefenuu, sending her into an instant fury. The transparent disc in the wall of her sleeping chamber was barely lit; it must just be dawn. And who dared to make those sounds in her ambesed! It was the sound of attention-to-speaking, loud and arrogant. She was on her feet in the instant, tearing great gouges from the matted flooring with her claws as she stamped her way out of the chamber.

A single Yilanè stood in the center of the ambesed, of strange color, deformed. When she saw Lanefenuu appear she called out, muffled by her lack of tail.

“Lanefenuu, Eistaa of Ikhalmenets, step forward. I will talk with you.”

The insult of the form of address; Lanefenuu was roaring with rage. Sunlight spread across the ground and she stopped in her tracks, tail lifted with surprise. The Yilanè could speak—but it was no Yilanè.

“Ustuzou! Here?”

“I am Kerrick. Of great strength and great anger.”