Vanalpe turned her head away in silence, not daring to speak. All of the work of her lifetime had been in city design and Alpeasak was the culmination of those labors. The new Eistaa’s unchecked enthusiasm was overpowering. Long moments passed before she was able to speak, pointing to the heater. “This is so new you won’t have seen it in the reports.” She stroked the heater which withdrew its fangs from the saptree for a moment, turned sightless eyes towards her and squeaked thinly. “I have been breeding these experimentally for years. I can truthfully report now that the experiments were successful. They are longer-lived and need no nourishment other than the sugars of the saptree. And feel the body temperature, it is certainly higher than any other.”
“I can only admire.”
Proudly, Vanalpe led the way again, between the curtains of entangled roots. She bent as she went through an opening, holding the roots up so Vainte could enter, then pointed at the thick trunk that formed the rear wall. She laughed and held out her hand, palm upwards. “It lay there on my hand, that small, it seemed impossible to believe the days and days of labor needed to prepare the mutated gene chains that went into it. And no one was absolutely sure until it grew that our work had been successful. I had this area cleared of brush and trees, insect life as well, then I fertilized and watered the ground myself, pushed a hole into it with my thumb — then planted the seed. I slept beside it that night, I couldn’t leave. And next day there was the tiniest green shoot. I can’t describe how I felt. And now — it is this.”
With great pride and happiness Vanalpe slapped the thick bark of the great tree that rose there. Vainte went and stood beside her, touching the wood herself and feeling the same joy. Her tree, her city.
“This is where I will stay. Tell everyone that this is my place.”
“This is your place. Walls will be planted to ring the place of the Eistaa. I will now go and wait for Stallan, then bring her here.”
When she had gone Vainte sat in silence until a passing fargi looked her way, then sent her for meat. But when the fargi returned she was not alone.
“I am called Heksei,” the newcomer said in the most formal manner. “Word has spread of your arrival, great Vainte, and I have hurried to greet you and welcome you to your city.”
“What is your work in this city, Heksei?” Vainte asked, just as formally.
“I attempt to be of aid, to help others, to be loyal to the city…”
“You were a close friend of the now-dead Eistaa, Deeste?”
It was more of a statement than a question and the barb struck home. “I don’t know what you have heard. Some people are jealous of others, carry tales—”
Her words cut off as Vanalpe returned, followed by another who wore a sling across one shoulder from which there was suspended a hesotsan. Vainte glanced at it, then looked away, saying nothing although its presence here was forbidden by law.
“This is Stallan of whom I spoke,” Vanalpe said, her eyes slipping over Heksei as though she did not exist.
Stallan made the sign of formal salutation, then stepped backwards towards the door.
“I am in error,” she said hoarsely, and Vainte noticed for the first time the long scar that puckered her throat. “Unthinkingly, I wore my weapon. Not until I was aware of you looking at it did I realize that I should have left it behind.”
“Wait,” Vainte said. “You wear it always?”
“Always. I am out of the city as much as I am in. This is a new city and there are dangers.”
“Then wear it still, Stallan, if you have need of it. Has Vanalpe told you about the beach?” Stallan signaled yes in grim silence. “Do you know what the creature could be?”
“Yes — and no.”
Vainte ignored Heksei’s gesture of disbelief and contempt. “Explain yourself,” she said.
“There are swamps and jungles in this new world, great forests and hills. To the west there is a large lake and beyond that the ocean again. To the north endless forests. And animals. Some very much like the ones we know in Entoban*. Some are very different. The difference is greater to the north. There I have found more and more ustuzou. I have killed some. They can be dangerous. Many of the fargi I took with me were injured, some died.”
“Dangerous!” This time Heksei laughed out loud. “A mouse under the floor dangerous? We must send for an elinou to take care of your danger.”
Stallan turned slowly to face Heksei. “You always laugh when I speak of this matter about which you know nothing. The time has come to stop that laughing.” There was a coldness in her voice that allowed no answer. They stood in silence as she went out the entrance, to return a moment later with a large, wrapped bundle.
“There are ustuzou in this land, fur-bearing creatures that are larger than the mice beneath the floor that you laugh at. Because that is the only kind of ustuzou we knew of before coming to this new shore we still think that all ustuzou must be tiny vermin. The time has now come to abandon ourselves of this idea. Things are different here. There is this nameless beast, for instance.”
She snapped the bundle open and spread it across the floor. It was the skin of an animal, a fur-animal, and it reached from wall to wall. There was only shocked silence as Stallan took up one of its limbs and pointed to the foot on its end, to the claws there, each one as long as her hand.
“I answered yes and no to your question, Eistaa, and this is why. There are five claws here. Many of the larger and most dangerous fur-creatures have five toes. I believe that the killers on the beach were ustuzou of some kind, of a species never encountered before.”
“I think you are right,” Vainte said, kicking a corner of the thick fur aside and trying not to shudder at its soft and loathsome touch. “Do you think you can find these beasts?”
“I will track them. North. The only way they could have gone.”
“Find them. Quickly. Report to me. Then we will destroy them. You will leave at dawn?”
“With your permission — I will leave now.”
Vainte permitted herself an expression of slight incredulity, enough to be enquiring yet not derisive or insulting. “It will be dark soon. Can you travel at night?” she asked. “How can a thing like that be possible?”
“I can only do it near the city where the coastline is most regular. There are large cloaks and I have a boat that is nocturnal. It will follow the shoreline so that by dawn we will be well on our way.”
“You are indeed a hunter. But I do not wish you to venture out alone, to face these dangers by yourself. You will need aid. Heksei here has told me that she helps others. She will go with you, help you.”
“It will be a strenuous voyage, Eistaa,” Stallan said, her voice flat and expressionless.
“I am sure she will profit from the experience,” Vainte said, turning away, ignoring Heksei’s unhappiness and frantic signals for attention. “May your voyage be a successful one.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Naudinza istak ar owot at kwalaro, at etcharro — ach i marinanni terpar.
The hunter’s path is always the hardest and longest. But it ends in the stars.
Lightning flickered, low on the horizon, briefly lighting the banks of dark clouds. Long moments passed before it was followed by the distant, deep rumble of thunder. The storm was retreating, moving out to sea, taking the streaming rain and the torrential wind with it. But the high seas still broke heavily on the beach, running far up the sands and into the salt grass beyond, almost as far as the beached boat. Just beyond the boat was a small copse where a temporary shelter of skins had been lashed to oars between the trees. Smoke drifted from beneath it and hung low under the branches. Old Ogatyr leaned out from the shelter and blinked at the first rays of afternoon sunlight that pierced the receding clouds. Then he sniffed, the air.
“The storm is over,” he announced. “We can go on.”
“Not in those seas,” Amahast said, poking at the fire until it flared up. The chunks of venison smoked in the heat and dripped sizzling meat juices into the flame. “The boat would be swamped and you know it. Perhaps in the morning.”
“We are late, very late—”
