“We know a few things he or she has done. He or she has offered an enormous reward to any persons or creatures who invent ways to clean up the great chancre in the Western Sea. The chancre lies south of Tingawa and some way east. It is a continent-sized human junk pile left over from the days of the ease machines, and it is proving impossible to get rid of. It is poisonous. It leaks into the oceans. It is extremely difficult to dismantle into parts. The latest effort has been to determine whether the whole mass or large chunks of it can be moved over a chain of submarine volcanoes which might be able to incinerate it. Whales, I think, were to be the motive force—whales and possibly some sailing ships on the surface. Meantime, the Tingawans are trying to determine if the incineration would cause more trouble than leaving it alone or possibly towing it over one of the ocean deeps, weighting it down, and then causing subsea avalanches to cover it.
“We know the Sea King has done everything possible to keep oceangoing traffic and fishing at a minimum, so the chancre cannot grow and sea populations cannot be wiped out by nets. Wooden sailing ships are tolerated because they are what is called biodegradable. That means they rot. Rot is good. It is very important that things rot. No doubt whatever force created life included rot as a necessary concomitant. Presumably, we can have steamships if they rot properly when they wear out. Our records tell us of steamships in the far past and we still know how to make steam engines—we have one in the laundry here to wash the linens, as a matter of fact. The abbot said it really wasn’t an ease machine because it uses natural steam, from the great rock below us—but we are forbidden to carry certain cargoes or have ships made of metal or moved by any kind of engine that burns what was called fossil fuels. Of course, such ships or cargoes are virtually impossible to create in these days. Oil is rare and far too useful to burn. No, the old ease-machine ships are gone, along with all those who knew how to run them.
“All in all, everything the Sea King has done seems to me to be perfectly sensible and justifiable from the point of view of any sea creature, though it’s made life inconvenient for a good many humans. I, however, having read everything available, cannot imagine any reason why the Sea King would make it difficult for you to travel in a small sailing vessel, islet to islet, to Tingawa. The Tingawans are said to be on a good terms with the creature.”
“So if I can get safely to Merhaven . . .”
“You should have no difficulty going west from there. Getting to Merhaven itself is the problem. We have reports of brigands, of wandering bands of lawless men, of patrols sent by King Gahls who kill first and ask who you are later, and of strange creatures no one has seen before emanating from the Old Dark House in the woods south of Wold.”
“All the way up here? On the heights?”
“Here isn’t that far,” said Wordswell with a frown. “It’s not noticeable except on a map, but the abbey is almost directly east of the Old Dark House. From Lake Riversmeet, the road to Wellsport runs almost true west, but the road to Eastwatch Tower and then up the heights gradually swings to the northeast. At the top of the falls, the road runs southeast for a way toward Benjobz, but it gradually turns due south. The Wilderbrook road from there continues south to begin with, but it winds around a lot and the abbey is actually west of Benjobz. The four points—the Old Dark House, the top of the cliff road, Benjobz, and the abbey—make a squashed rectangle, and the side between the Old Dark House and the abbey is by far the shortest side. To the west, beyond the strip of forest we can see from here, the land steps steadily downward with no great cliff to climb and no great waterfalls, either.”
“Then why in the name of good sense do people use that dreadful road up the cliff face near the falls?” asked Xulai.
“Because the slope west of us was once mined for metal. It’s like a huge sponge full of shafts and bores and holes that collapse without warning, besides being poisonously barren because of the chemicals that were used either in the mines or in processing the ore. You’ve heard of the Dragdown
