“Ortnar—it is only fit that they build their own shelter. I think your skills would be better used if you took your death-stick and hunted some fresh meat for us.”

“That I will do,” Ortnar said, happy to be away from them. Nadaskè and Imehei were equally pleased when he left.

“Waxy-uncommunicative,” Imehei said. “And I fear the stone tooth on the stick.”

“He is hunting for us—so let us finish this work. Take my stone tooth and cut more branches. We will use them to finish the shelter. But first I will show you the secrets of the hàsotsan so you will be able to defend yourselves and kill fresh meat. There are fish and shellfish in the lake and they will be easy to catch—if you know how.”

Kerrick finished the instruction on the hèsotsan well before the hunter returned, knowing that Ortnar would have reacted strongly if he had seen the Yilanè holding weapons. They were hidden out of sight in the completed shelter before Kerrick issued his final instructions.

“Only use the preserved meat when there is no fresh meat or fish, since there is not a big enough supply to last very long.”

“Pain-in-hands, fatigue-of-body,” Nadaskè signed. Imehei flashed palm colors in agreement. Kerrick controlled his temper.

“Forceful-demand for all of your attention. You must do as I have said—or you will die of starvation. A slow death as the flesh wastes away, the skin hangs in loose folds, the teeth decay and drop out . . .”

Nadaskè’s wail of agony and movements of submission meant he had their attention.

“That won’t happen if you are wise, for there is plenty of game about. Your biggest danger may be the female Yilanè who will find you unless you take precautions.” He had their wide-eyed and silent attention now. “You know of the birds that fly and return with pictures. So keep under cover as much as you can—and look out for the large birds. When the boughs on the shelter die replace them with fresh ones. Do these things, and you will not be found and returned to the hanalè—and the beaches.”

Kerrick and Ortnar left at dawn, the two Yilanè watching their departure with widened, fright-filled eyes. Yet they were here by choice. Kerrick had done what he could for them, supplied them with food and weapons. He hoped that they would learn how to hunt before the preserved meat ran out. If it did, they at least had a choice the Tanu did not. They could return to their own. Enough. He had done what he could for them. Now he would think of himself and the long trek ahead of them. Think of Armun somewhere in the north, somewhere there. Alive.

The lake and the shelter vanished behind them, hidden by a curve in the trail.