“I have never felt so well planned for,” grouched Abasio.
“Now you know how I’ve felt my entire life,” said Xulai. “Except I never before felt hungry all the time, the way I do now.”
“You are burgeoning,” said Abasio. “Very properly. It is my understanding that women in your condition crave exotic foods. What may I bring you?”
“Two scrambled eggs and one of Horsemaster’s horse biscuits,” she said thoughtfully.
“You crave horse biscuits?”
“I always did. I’ve eaten them since I was little,” she said in surprise. “I used to lie up in the haymow in the stable with the cats, eating horse biscuits. I didn’t know how to make them then, as I do now, but how would I know they were any good if I didn’t eat them myself?”
There were no sad farewells. When they left, Precious Wind was already on her way to the cliff villages and Oldwife Gancer had patiently been talked out of going along to take care of the baby. Both Abasio and Xulai were worried that she could not deal with the situation. She might be too surprised. Shocked? Who knew? No, she could see to the baby when they returned to Woldsgard, “Unless the baby needs to stay in the sea,” said Abasio.
That required some explanation. Nettie Lean caught on more quickly. She said she would explain it to Oldwife again and again, until, as she put it, “it sunk in.”
“Not, perhaps, the best word to use,” said Abasio. “Very apt, but not best.”
Orez was going with them as far as Wellsport, along with a good number of his men. The journey proved to be uneventful: one pugnacious boar encountered; one broken wheel more or less mended; one water bag with a leak in it; one drunken villager en route who had celebrated the monster’s demise by setting up an unauthorized toll booth.
In Wellsmouth, most of them attended a previously arranged meeting with the head of the Council of Port Lords; Earl Murkon of Marish; Hale Highlimb of Combe; half a dozen of the Free Knights, down from Valesgard; Defiance, Count of Chasm—Orez’s eldest son; and Orez’s mother, Vinicia, a very old woman, the so-called Lady of the Abyss. All of them wanted to meet Xulai. All of them wanted to know everything there was to know. Abasio did a changing for them, asking them to forgive Xulai, but in her condition she preferred not to. They quite understood. They were fascinated. The very, very old lady insisted upon feeling Abasio’s tentacles.
“By all that’s holy, I wish I could do that,” she exclaimed to Orez. “My bones hurt all the time!”
Abasio explained that all the sea eggs were being used for women of childbearing age. “But, ma’am, they won’t always be in short supply. Hold the thought. You may be able to lose your bones yet.”
“Such a nice young octopus,” she said to the prince as they departed. “Such nice manners.”
There were a dozen eggs in Wellsport to be taken on to Tingawa. Both young couples were well, healthy, interested in their new lives. The young men were full of information about the sea, things they had discovered, things they had never thought of. Wellsport was advised it would receive additional sea eggs when Precious Wind returned from the cliff villages and Ghastain. Xulai was introduced to several sea-fertile couples who had traveled to Wellsport from the cliff villages so they would be able to change.
“We’re going to have to set up an egg registry,” she told Abasio. “The cliff village people are akin to Tingawans, so their eggs are essentially Tingawan eggs. The ones from Ghastain and Wellsport are essentially Norland eggs . . .”
“Um,” said Abasio, “is that so? My my.” He did not find the subject endlessly fascinating, for his mind kept veering away from the far to the nearer future. Children. Would one be able to say, “My, he certainly has your chin”? Or would one say, “His tentacles are exactly like yours”?
The Falsa-xin sailed on the morning tide. The winds bearing them westward were steady. Day by day the captain measured his speed, plotted their position upon his charts. Day by day they saw other ships, headed the opposite direction. The monster was dead. Trade had been resumed. Day by day, dolphins came alongside to tell them what undersea landmarks they were passing, a navigation convenience the sailors of long ago had not had the advantage of. Blue stopped being seasick, leaned his head over the side, and talked to the dolphins whenever he had the chance. They told him stories that he repeated to Abasio and Xulai. Day succeeded day. The food grew increasingly monotonous. The sailors fished. Eventually, they began to see islands, one, two, several. One morning, early, they came to Tingawa. Lok-i-xan awaited them at the pier as he had waited what seemed to them to have been a lifetime ago. This time there were only ordinary parasol carriers, and they all, including Blue, walked only so far as the bottom of the citadel steps before entering the hill to find either an ascendable or a stable.
When Xulai and Justinian left the dinner table that evening, Xulai remarking that she wanted to catch up on her sleep, Lok-i-xan asked Abasio, “I heard all about the confrontation. Was it truly as peaceful as that?”
“When I saw the creature in the firelight, I felt pity,” said Abasio. “You would have,
