None of the hunters could sleep. They wiped the blood from their hands and arms as well as they could, sat and talked quietly until dawn. When there was enough light to see by, Herilak stood and issued orders.

“I want help here. I want to seal up this hole where we were hidden so nothing can be seen. Pull some of the bodies on top of the rocks. They might find the opening, I don’t know — but if they don’t it will be something more to worry them. They will then wonder how this happened, how we got past their defenses, and it could slow them down.”

“Will they go back then?” Nenne asked.

“No, that won’t happen,” Herilak said, feeling the anger rise within him. “They will keep coming. But we can slow them, kill them. We can do that. Now the rest of you, wait until it is full light and the thorns withdraw. Don’t touch anything, just use your spears to pull aside the vines. Leave everything else the way it is. We’ll take the death-sticks, some meat, nothing else. Pull the vines back into place when we go. This will be a sight to make the murgu very, very unhappy. I want it to be that way.”

They sailed south along the coast. The Paramutan were excited by this journey into the unknown, pointing out every new headland and bit of beach with shouts of wonder. Kerrick did not share this enthusiasm but sank deeper into a grim unhappiness with every day’s travel. Armun saw this and could only share his despair because she knew there was little she could do to help him. As they voyaged south the weather improved, but not his spirits. She almost welcomed the bad weather that followed because he had to work with others to reef the sails and pump out the bilge so had little time to think about the future.

The coastline made a turn here, they could see it on the map, until they were sailing due west. Although the sun was warm the winter storms lashed down from the north bringing squalls of rain. On their eighth day of sailing they ran through one cloudburst after another, starting soon after dawn, but by midafternoon the last squall had passed and the rainstorm had blown past them to the shore.

“See the rainbow,” Armun said, pointing to the great arch that spanned the sky, stretching inland from the sea. It appeared to end upon a rocky headland. “My father always said that if you found the spot where the rainbow ends you would find the greatdeer who would speak to you. When you found it there at rainbow’s end it could not escape and would have to answer any question that you asked it. That is what my father said.”

Kerrick was silent, looking toward the land as though he had not even heard her.

“Do you think that would happen?” she asked.

Kerrick shook his head. “I don’t know. I have never heard a greatdeer talk. They are good to eat — but I don’t think I would take their advice about anything.”

“But this is a special kind of greatdeer. You will only find it at rainbow’s end. I believe that it really is there.”

She said this firmly, watching the rainbow grow fainter and fainter still until it vanished as the storm swept inland over the wooded hills. Kerrick did not disagree with her, was sunk again into his depression.

The wind died down after the storm and the sun shone warmly. Armun turned her face to it and ran her fingers through her hair so it would dry. Only the Paramutan were unhappy, taking off their fur jackets and complaining of the heat. They were creatures of the north and grew unhappy when they were too warm. Kalaleq stood in the bow, the breeze ruffling the long fur on his back, peering ahead at the coast.

“There!” he cried out suddenly, pointing. “That is a new thing, a thing that I have never seen before.”

Kerrick joined him, squinting at the distant green patch on the shoreline, waiting until he was absolutely sure.

“Turn about, go to the shore,” he said. “I know what that is. It is…” His vocabulary failed him and he turned to Armun and spoke in Marbak.

“There is no word for it — but it is the place where the murgu bring their creatures that swim. The murgu are there, at that place.”

Armun spoke quickly in Paramutan and Kalaleq’s eyes grew wide. “They are indeed there,” he said, pushing over on the steering oar as the others rushed to the lines. They went about and on the opposite tack angled back to the coast, away from the Yilanè dock. Kerrick was looking at the chart, tracing it with his finger.

“This is it, it must be. We must land on the shore and approach it on foot. We must find out what it is doing here.”

“Do you think there will be any murgu there?” Armun asked.

“There is no way to tell from here — but there could be. But we must be careful, go cautiously, just a few of us.”

“If you go — I am going.”

He started to speak, but heard the firmness in her voice and only nodded instead. “We two, then. And one or two at most of the Paramutan.”

Kalaleq included himself in the scouting party and, after much shouting and arguing, Niumak was added as well because he was known as a great stalker. They ran the ikkergak ashore on a sandy beach. Armed with spears the small party set out along the sand.

The beach ended in a rocky headland, forcing them to go inland among the trees. The forest here was almost impenetrable with fallen trees tumbled between the living ones, thick trunks mixed with the smaller secondary growth. As soon as they could they worked their way back to the ocean, toward the sound of waves on rock.

“I die, the heat kills,” Kalaleq said. He was staggering, close to exhaustion.

“Snow, ice,” Niumak said. “That is where the real people belong. Kalaleq speaks truthfully, death from heat comes near.”

There was blue sky ahead and a welcome breeze. The Paramutan praised its cooling touch while Kerrick pushed the leaves aside and looked out at the rocks and the breaking waves below. They were very close to the dock now. There were rounded mounds of some kind behind it, but he could not tell what they were from this distance. Nothing moved, it look deserted.

“I’m going to get closer…”

“I’ll go with you,” Armun said.

“No, I had better go alone. If the murgu are there I’ll come right back. And I know them, know how they react. It would be much more dangerous with you along. The Paramutan would be in the way as well — if they could walk that far. Stay with them. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

She wanted to argue, to go with him — but knew that he was doing the only thing possible. For a moment she held her arms about him, pulled her head against his chest. Then pushed him away and turned to the gasping Paramutan.

“I’ll stay with them. Now go.”

It was hard to move silently through the forest; too many branches had to be pushed aside and the dead wood crackled underfoot. He went faster when he came to a game trail that led down from the hills. It angled off in the right direction, toward the shore, and he followed it with care. When it emerged from the trees he stopped and looked out carefully from behind the screening leaves. The empty dock was directly ahead of him with the high, rounded mounds beside it. They were too smooth and regular to be natural formations — and they had openings like doors let into them.

Should he go any closer? If there were Yilanè inside them — how could he find out? There were no uruketo at the dock, but that meant little since Yilanè could have been left behind.

The sharp crack of the hèsotsan was unmistakable. He hurled himself aside, falling, horribly afraid. The dart must have missed. He had to get away.

There was a crash of heavy feet and even as he struggled to push his way through the screen of young trees he saw the Yilanè run up, hèsotsan half raised. She stopped suddenly when she saw him, her arms curved with a gesture of surprise. Then she raised and aimed the weapon.