Although the question was rhetorical Enge answered with solemn reassurance. “I do not speak for the world but only for myself and my companions. We would be dead. In the fullness of time this will not be forgotten.” She signed subservience, lowest to highest.

“Well spoken. Flattering yet completely true. Now what is the latest application needed for my mighty wisdom?”

“I have had queries from many, the same question expressed in different ways, yet the same query and the same worry from all.”

“The lazy creatures should work harder, think less. Your new fargi called Daughters of Life, yet still fargi of immense unreasoning stupidity, do most of the labor in this city. Giving the rest too much time to talk and argue.”

“Ambalasei is correct, as always. But the query is one that I feel within myself as well. A fear for the future that cannot be placated. The fear of the ending. The fear of the death of this city.”

Ambalasei snorted in anger. “Abstract thought breeds abstract fears. You are all healthy, the city grows well, there are few dangers and a great sufficiency of food. A Yilanè of real intelligence would take pleasure from this and not seek distant pain. You are all young and at the very beginning of what could be long and productive lives. Why concern yourselves now with the distant future? Don’t bother to answer that for I can easily answer for you. You are all Daughters of Contentiousness and will never find true wisdom or true pleasure. Your continuous arguments about means to an end are a means in an end to themselves.”

“Yet the future will be here one day…”

“Well I won’t. You have made your own problems. Now you must seek your own solutions. I am nearing the end of my work here and when it is done I will leave.”

“I have never considered…”

“But I have. I have given you your lives and your city. They are yours to enjoy. After I have gone. Study the thoughts of Ugunenapsa, seek your answers from her and not from me. Setessei, stir up another one of the ninkulileb. Their flying that is not flying is most revealing, as are their feathers that are closer to scales than feathers. Records must be made. Science goes forward steadily, although your Daughters of Life are obviously unaware of that.”

Saagakel looked around at her attentive circle of advisers, signed for closest attention, spoke. “Daughters of Life. I speak their name and, though it angers me, I do not feel the destroying rage that once possessed me, possessed us all. I speak that detested name now because there is new knowledge brought to us by Fafnepto, brought to us by Vaintè. We must now find a way to use this new knowledge, to take my vengeance on those who wronged this city, wronged your Eistaa.”

There were shouts of agreement when Saagakel spoke, angry promises of vengeance, heated queries for elucidation. It was all quite enjoyable. Vaintè sat in stern silence at Saagakel’s right hand, spoke only when the Eistaa signed permission.

“Your Eistaa has spoken to me of what happened here when those creatures were unjustly freed, then fled in a proud uruketo of this city. This is a wrong that must be righted. To right this great wrong two things must be considered. Leading this uncivilized pack of animals was one named Enge. I know much of Enge and will tell you of that. The uruketo has gone and none knows where. But strong Saagakel here has knowledge of that. She has knowledge that the uruketo has not been seen in any of the cities of Entoban*. When you hear that you may think that they have escaped your Eistaa’s justice. This is not so. I believe that I have the knowledge that will lead us to them.”

There was an interested hum of surprise at this, and pleasure at mysteries about to be unfolded. Across the stream the distant watchers tried to understand what was happening on Eistaa’s side of the ambesed, could not, stayed and watched intently anyway. It was obvious that matters of great import were being discussed. They moved aside at shouts for attention as Gunugul pushed her way through, two burdened fargi following her. Vaintè pointed to the newcomer.

“You all know Gunugul, eldest and most senior commander of the uruketo that serve this city. She has brought something of importance to show us. Reveal your charts, wise Gunugul, and tell us of their meaning so we may understand.”

With sharp commands Gunugul had the containers lowered and opened, a chart removed and rolled out upon the grass. The fargi stood, one to each side, stolid and unmoving, their claws hooked over the chart to hold it in position. The onlookers stirred and pushed each other aside to see it. Though of course they understood nothing. Gunugul pointed to the shaded green area to one side.

“This is Entoban*, where this great city lies. And here, on the ocean’s edge, is the city of Yebèisk itself.” There was a murmur of appreciation as they stared hard at the fleck of gold. Gunugul moved her thumb from the city across the blueness of the chart. “The ocean stretches away from Yebèisk. We have had the privilege of hearing Vaintè tell us how she has crossed it in an uruketo to the land on the other side, to Entoban* and the city of Alpèasak . Put this away, give me the other chart.”

They watched in expectation as this chart was unrolled in turn, presented for their inspection. As mysterious and indecipherable to them as the first, but perhaps more fascinating because of that. Gunugul pointed again.

“Entoban*. A large and empty continent. Empty that is of Yilanè, though it crawls with ustuzou as Vaintè has said. I have now shown you what Vaintè asked me to.”

Gunugul stepped back but left the chart displayed for their fascinated gaze. Most of them listened to Vaintè with only one eye, still staring at this map of distant mysteries.

“I have told you of the city of Alpèasak . What I have not told you, since the matter was of greatest distaste to your Eistaa, therefore not fit for public discussion, was that there were Daughters of Life in that city. Many of them died while the city was growing, though not enough. Still more died when the city was destroyed, for unlike true Yilanè they do not die at the correct predestined time, but instead live on like vermin. I will tell you no more of this, it is too disgusting, but I will tell you this much so you will know how one of them lived when many died. How one lived who should have died. How one lived to come to this city to flee it again. One named Enge.”

The chart was forgotten now. Every eye on Vaintè. Every voice hushed so they could hear clearly everything that she might say.

“This was one known as Enge, a Daughter of Life, who has a great if perverted intelligence. She has knowledge of far Entoban*. She has knowledge of crossing the ocean.”

Vaintè looked around at their gaping attention. So unusual was all this that she could see none but the Eistaa knew what she was going to say, where this connected trail of knowledge would lead. They leaned forward in silence, the perfect audience, every curved line of their bodies begging for her to speak.

“You have heard that the uruketo that fled this city cannot be found. Gunugul, could this uruketo cross the ocean?”

“Where the ocean currents flow the uruketo swim.”

“Could it have crossed to distant Entoban*?”

“Other uruketo have done this. This uruketo could do this.”

Vaintè leaned back, turned to the Eistaa, spoke. “It is my belief, Saagakel, Eistaa of Yebèisk, that your uruketo has crossed the ocean and has gone to Entoban*. Not to the city of Alpèasak , for the eistaa there has little love for the Daughters of Death. The uruketo is not at that city, but it must be somewhere there along the shore. There is no place else that it could possibly be.”

“Gone!” a councillor wailed in anguish. “Gone!” Others took up the cry but the Eistaa signed for attention and the silence was instant.