“I have no wish to drink.”
“But I do. Armun is thirsty. We must go ashore and refill the waterskins.”
There was just enough light left for Kerrick to see the shiver that moved across KalaJeq’s body, stirring the fur down his neck so that it rose into the air. He had discarded his clothes many days before .when the air had grown warmer, when the worst of winter had been left behind. “No,” he said, then trembled again. “That is the land of the murgu. I saw them once, killed them once. Never again. I am hot, we must go north.”
He pushed over on the oar and the sail flapped loosely as they went all aback. Kerrick started toward the stern, angrier than before, and stopped only when Armun laid a restraining hand on his arm.
“Let me talk to him,” she whispered. “Shouting at him does no good, you can see that now.”
“Talk to him then.” He pushed her hand away and moved to secure the sail. “Convince him. We must get fresh water.”
Kalaleq’s fur trembled at her touch and she stroked his shoulder until the quivering stopped. “Plenty water,” he muttered.
“You know that is not true. It will all be gone soon then we will have to land.”
“Land in the islands, go back, not ashore.”
She stroked him again, spoke to him as she would to a child. “We do not know how far the islands are from here — and we cannot turn back. The spirit of the wind would not like that. Not after all the fair winds we have had so far.”
“Not today, not yesterday.”
“Then the spirit has heard you and grows angry.”
“No!”
Kalaleq held tightly to her, then realized what he was doing and let his hands move up under her loose coverings, to rest on her bare back. She did not push him away, not this time. Kerrick could not see what was happening in the darkness. They must make for the shore despite Kalaleq’s fears. He was the problem now, for the voyage south seemed to have driven all the dark thoughts from Kerrick’s head. Driven them into the Paramutan’s skull instead! Now she had to humor him instead of Kerrick, must still be the strong one. She knew how to do that well enough. The Tanu hunters and the male Paramutan were the same, quick to anger, ferocious in battle, washed by storms of feelings. But it was she who had to endure. To follow when needed — to be strong when that was needed even more. Now this one must have her help as Kerrick had had before. But he wanted more than that. His hands moved over her skin, moved from her back — and she pushed him gently away.
“Kalaleq is not afraid of the great ularuaq that swim in the northern sea,” she said. “He is the mightiest slayer of ularuaq and the strength of his arm feeds us all.”
“Yes,” he agreed and reached for her again but she moved back.
“Kalaleq not only kills the ularuaq but he has killed the murgu. I saw him kill murgu. He is a mighty slayer of murgu!”
“Yes,” then louder, “Yes!” He stabbed out with an invisible spear. “Yes, I did kill them, how I killed them!”
“Then you do not fear them — if you see them you will kill them again.”
“Of course!” His mood had shifted completely under her guidance and he beat his chest with his fists. “We need water — to the shore. Maybe find some murgu to kill too.”
He sniffed the wind, then spat unhappily. Still growling he unshipped the oars and slipped them into place. “Not enough wind, lower sail. I’ll show you how to row.”
But not this night.
In a short while he was gasping and running with sweat. He let Armun pull him aside and he sipped at the last of the water when she held it to his lips. Kerrick took his place, pulled hard on the oars, pulled toward the land. Kalaleq sank into a troubled sleep, and Armun hoped that when he awoke his mood would be unchanged.
The night was still and warm, the stars hidden by low cloud above. Before Kerrick tired Armun replaced him at the oars so that they moved steadily toward land. A ghost of a moon slipped in and out of the clouds enabling them to stay on course. While Kalaleq slept, they spelled each other, turn and turn again, until they heard the rumble of surf distantly ahead. Kerrick stood in the bow and could just make out the line of foam where the waves ran up onto the shore.
“It looks like beach, not rock, and the waves are small. Shall we go straight in?”
“Wake Kalaleq. Let him decide.”
The Paramutan came awake at once — thankfully possessed by none of his earlier fears. He clambered part way up the mast to look ahead, sniffed the air then let his hand dangle over the side in the sea.
“We land,” was his firm decision. “Row straight and I steer.”
When they were closer in he saw a break in the shore and turned toward it, then guided the boat in between sandbanks to the outlet of a stream or a small river.
“No one knows boats, knows the ocean like Kalaleq!”
“No one,” Armun agreed quickly before Kerrick could say anything to dampen the Paramutan’s new-found self-esteem. Kerrick started to speak, then had the good sense to keep quiet. He rowed until they touched bottom, then jumped overside with a line to pull the boat further in.
The water was salt here, but when he walked a short distance upstream it suddenly became fresh and sweet. He cupped his hands and drank, then called to the others. Kalaleq rolled and splashed in the delightful coolness, his earlier fears forgotten. They pulled the boat up as far as they could and secured it there, all of them exhausted. They would refill the waterskins in the morning.
It was first light when Kerrick took Armun’s arm to awaken her. “Up here,” he said. “Come quickly.”
Kalaleq was lying behind the mounded dune, shaking his spear and calling out loud insults. But he was careful to stay behind the cover. They ran to join him, dropping and crawling the last bit to look over the top.
Out to sea, just off the coast, a large creature with a high fin was swimming slowly by. Two smaller sea- beasts surged ahead of it.
“An uruketo,” Kerrick said. “It carries the murgu.”
“How I wish they were closer so I could spear it, kill them all!” Kalaleq’s eyes were red with hatred in the first light, his temper restored and all traces of yesterday’s fear vanished.
“Look at the direction they are going,” Kerrick said, glancing toward the sun on the horizon, then back to sea. “North, they are going north.”
He watched until the uruketo had vanished from sight, then hurried to the boat, rooted out the Yilane charts.
“We have come too far south, see, we must be here on the chart. The uruketo is going north to the islands here.”
Kalaleq understood the maps, Armun did not. They would decide. “It could be going to the ocean here, through the mouth,” Kalaleq said. Kerrick shook his head.
“Not this time of the year, it is too cold, there may even be no cities left on the shores of Isegnet. It has to be going here, to Ikhalmenets.”
While they argued she filled the waterskins.
By late morning they had all of the water they could carry and their course had been decided. They would follow the murgu swimming creature. It had been agreed that the island they searched for was in that direction. The breeze was coming from the land now and filled their sail, carrying them swiftly toward the horizon and what lay concealed beyond it.
They sailed all of that day through the empty ocean, the land out of sight behind them and nothing visible ahead. When Kalaleq’s fears returned Armun asked him how he killed ularuaq and he showed her his skill, carried away, shouting with pleasure. Kerrick sat silently in the bow, staring ahead. He was the one who saw the snow capped mountain first.
“It is there, Ikhalmenets, it can be nothing else.”
They gazed in silence as they sailed forward and the island slowly emerged from the sea. Kalaleq called out worriedly when other specks of land appeared.
“There — and there. Other islands, there are more than one. Which is the one we seek?”
Kerrick pointed to the white peak, now glowing warmly in the evening sun. “That one, it can be no other,
