the way to the animals. We will eat — after that there is much that we will have to do.”
CHAPTER TWO
belesekesse ambeiguru desguru kak’kusarod. murubelek murubelek.
Those who swim to the top of the highest wave can only sink in the deepest trough.
Erafnais ordered everyone below, crewmembers and passengers alike, as the uruketo swam out into the open sea. But she remained there on top of the fin when the storm washed over them, transparent membranes closed over her eyes against the driving rain. Between showers she had a single glimpse of the burnt city, smoke roiling high above it, the beaches empty of life. The vision burned into her memory and she could see it clearly still even when the rain returned; would see it always. She remained there at her station until dark, when the uruketo slowed, swimming easily with the current as it would until daylight returned. Only then did she descend wearily to the base of the fin where she spent the entire night, sleeping at the vacant steering position.
When the transparent viewing disc above her grew light with dawn Erafnais unwrapped her sleeping cloak and climbed wearily to her feet. The old injury to her back hurt as she climbed slowly up the inside of the fin to the observation post above. The morning air was cool and fresh. All the clouds of the previous day’s storm had blown away and the sky was clear and bright. The fin swayed as the uruketo stirred and the ponderous creature moved faster in the growing light. Erafnais glanced down, checking that the crewmember was at her steering station, then looked out at the ocean again. There was a ripple of foam in front of the great beak as the pair of accompanying enteesenat surged ahead. All was as it should be with the voyage.
Yet nothing was as it should be. The dark thoughts that Erafnais had kept at bay while she slept surged up and overwhelmed her. Her thumbs grasped hard at the uruketo’s thick hide; the sharp claws on her toes sinking deep as well. Inegban‹ had come to Alpeasak at last, she had helped in this, and Alpeasak had grown strong. And had died in a single day. She had watched and not understood; in her lifetime at sea had never even heard of fire. Now she knew all about it, It was hot, hotter than the sun, and cracked and roared and stank and choked those who came close, grew bright then black. And had killed the city. The handful of survivors still reeking of the fire’s darkness lay below. The rest of the Yilane and fargi were as dead as the city, dead in the city that lay behind them. She shuddered and stared resolutely ahead, afraid to look behind lest she see that place of sorrow again. If it had been her city she would be as dead as the others, for those whom the fire had not consumed had of course died when the city died.
But now she had other problems to face. The scientist Akotolp was below, still holding to the arm of the male that she had dragged aboard. But she had not moved since then, had just sat in motionless silence even when addressed. Sat and ignored the pleas and moans of the male to be released. What could be done with her? And what of those others below, the deathless ones? What was to be done? Finally, she must consider — the other. The one whose name no one spoke. Erafnais shuddered and drew back as Vainte climbed up inside the fin. It was as though in thinking of her Erafnais had summoned her — the last creature she wished to see this sunbright morning.
Without acknowledging the commander’s presence, Vainte went to the rear of the fin and stared out at their bubbling wake. Erafnais was aware of her actions and, despite her fears, turned as well and also looked out toward the horizon. It was darker there. The remaining shadow of the night, a storm perhaps, surely it could not be the land — and the city. That was too far behind them to be seen. One of Vainte’s eyes rolled back in her direction; Erafnais spoke.
“You boarded in silence Vainte and have remained silent since. Are they — dead?”
“All dead. The city dead as well.”
Even through the terror of the words, Erafnais was aware of Vainte’s strange manner of speaking. Not as superior to inferior or even equal to equal, but instead in a flat and unfeeling manner that was most unusual. As though she were alone with no one else present, speaking her thoughts to herself.
Erafnais wished to be silent, but spoke despite this, the question coming as though of its own free will. “The fire — where did the fire come from?”
Vainte’s rigid mask vanished in an instant and her entire body shivered in the grip of intense emotion, her jaw gaped so wide in the expression of hatred/death that her meaning was muffled and confused. “Ustuzou who came… ustuzou of fire… hatred of those… hatred of him. Death. Death. Death.”
“Death,” a voice said harshly, hands moving in the reflexive position of taking-back-upon-self. Erafnais only heard the sound for Enge had climbed up behind her. But Vainte could see her and understood well enough and there was venom in every motion of her response.
“Daughter of Death, you and yours should be back in that fire-city. The best of the Yilane who died deserve to be here in your place.”
In her anger she had spoken as one of equal to equal, as efensele to efensele. When you grew in the sea with others, emerged with them in the same group, your efenburu, it was a fact never considered; like the air one breathed. You were efensele to the others in your efenburu for life. But Enge would not accept that.
“Your memory is weak, inferior one.” She said this in the most insulting manner, the highest of the high to the lowest of the low. Erafnais, standing between them, moaned with terror, her crest flaming first red then orange as she fled below. Vainte reeled back as though struck a physical blow. Enge was pitiless.
“You have been disowned. Your shame is upon me and I reject you as an efensele. Your reckless ambition to kill Kerrick — ustuzou, all ustuzou, has destroyed proud Alpeasak instead. You ordered low-creature Stallan to kill my companions. Since the egg of time there has been no one like you. Would you had never emerged from the sea. If our entire efenburu had died there in the wet silence, myself included, it would have been better than this.”
Vainte’s skin had first flared with rage when Enge spoke, but quickly darkened as her body grew still. Her anger was sealed inside now, to be used when needed — and not to be wasted on this inferior being who was once her equal.
“Leave me,” she said, then turned back to the empty sea. Enge turned away as well, breathing deeply and ashamed of herself for the unbidden anger. This was not what she believed in, what she preached to others. With great effort she stilled the movements of her limbs, the glaring colors of her palms and crest. Only when she was stonelike and as uncommunicative as Vainte did she permit herself to speak. Below her was the crewmember guiding the uruketo through the sea; close behind her was the commander. Enge leaned down and made the sound of speaking-attention.
“From one-who-follows to one-who-leads, would Erafnais give pleasure by joining here?”
Erafnais climbed reluctantly up, aware of silent Vainte, back turned and staring out at the sea. “I am here, Enge,” she said.
“My thanks and the gratitude of those with me, for saving us from destruction. Where are you bound?”
“Where?” Erafnais echoed the question, then felt shame. She was the commander yet had not thought of their destination at all. She blurted the truth with shallow movements of apology.
“We fled the fire, out to sea, our course as it always is east to Entoban*. This was done with the panic of flight and not the wisdom of command.”
“Dismiss the shame — for you have saved us all and there is only gratitude. Entoban* of the Yilane must be our destination. But which city?”
The question brought the answer instantly.
“Home. Where my efenburu is, where this uruketo first entered the sea. Sea-girt Ikhalmenets.”
Though still staring out at the surging waves, Vainte had turned one eye to follow the conversation. She asked for attention to communication but only Erafnais looked her way.
“Ikhalmenets-of-the-islands is not Entoban*. Respectfully request course to Mesekei.”
Erafnais acknowledged the request, yet politely but firmly reaffirmed their destination. Vainte could see that
