“Do not shoot!” he cried out. “Why do you want to kill me? I am unarmed and a friend.”

His spear had fallen from his hand and he pushed it deeper into the undergrowth with his foot as he spoke.

The affect on his attacker was dramatic. She stepped backward and spoke with disbelief.

“This is an ustuzou. It cannot speak — yet it spoke.”

“I can speak and speak well.”

“Explanation of presence here: immediate and urgent.”

The weapon was ready but not pointed at him. That could change in an instant. What could he say? Something, anything to keep her listening.

“I come from far away. I was trained to speak by a Yilanè of great intelligence. She was kind to me, taught me much, I am a friend of the Yilanè.”

“I heard once of an ustuzou that talked. Why are you here alone?” She did not wait for an explanation but raised and pointed her weapon instead. “You have fled your owner, escaped from her, that is what you have done. Stand there and do not move.”

Kerrick did as he had been ordered; he had no choice. Stood there in silence as he heard more footsteps, saw the two fargi come down the path from the forest carrying the body of one of the giant birds. He cursed himself for not realizing that he was walking on a well-trodden path, not a natural game trail. There were Yilanè here after all. And this one, she looked brutal, a hunter just as Stallan had been. She must have been out hunting for fresh meat and had practically stumbled over him. He should have known, a hunter would have seen at once this was not a game trail and would have taken precautions. He had done nothing. The fargi came up, passed him, each rolling one eye as she went by, making muffled remarks of wonderment, their load making speaking difficult.

“Go after them,” the hunter ordered. “Run and you die.”

Kerrick had no choice. He stumbled along the path, numb with despair, toward the rounded constructions on the shore.

“Bring the meat to the butchers,” the hunter ordered. The two fargi went on past the first dome, but the hunter pointed it out to him with signs of entry.

“We go in here. I think that Esspelei will want to see you.”

There was a leathery door set into the side of the dome; it split and opened when he pressed a speckled area. It revealed a short tunnel with another door at the far end, barely seen in the light from the glowing patches on the wall. His captor stood well back; weapon ready, and ordered him forward. He touched the second door and a wave of warm air washed over him as he went into the chamber beyond. The glowing patches were larger and the light was better in here. There were many strange creatures on the ledges, creatures of science, he could tell that much. Charts were on the walls and a Yilanè was bent over one of the instruments.

“Why do you disturb me, Fafnege,” she said with some irritation as she turned about. Her gestures changed instantly to surprise and fear.

“A filthy ustuzou! Why is it not dead, why do you bring it here?”

Fafhege signed superiority of knowledge and contempt for fear. She was very much like Stallan. “You are safe, Esspelei, so do not betray your quivering fright. This is a very unusual ustuzou. Watch what happens when I order it to speak.”

“You are in no danger,” Kerrick said. “But I am. Order this repulsive creature to lower her weapon. I am unarmed.”

Esspelei was rigid with surprise. Long moments passed before she spoke.

“I know of you. I spoke with one who spoke with Akotolp who told her of the ustuzou that speaks.”

“I know Akotolp. She is very-very fat.”

“You must be the one then, for Akotolp is fat. Why are you here?”

“The thing has escaped,” Fafhege said. “There can be no other explanation of its presence. See the ring about its neck? See where a lead has been severed? It has fled its master.”

“Is that what happened?” Esspelei said.

Kerrick was silent, his thoughts jumbled. What should he tell them? Any story would do; they had no ability to lie themselves since their very thoughts showed in the motion of their bodies. But he could lie — and would.

“I did not escape. There was — an accident, a storm, the uruketo was in trouble. I fell into the sea, swam ashore. I have been alone. I am hungry. It is good to be able to speak with Yilanè again.”

“This is of great interest,” Esspelei said. “Fafnege, bring meat.”

“It will run again if we let it. I will order a fargi.” She went out but Kerrick knew she had not gone far. He would escape when he could — but first he needed to get at least some advantage from his capture. He must find out what these Yilanè were doing this far to the north.

“From one of great stupidity to one of highest intelligence; respectful request for knowledge. What do Yilanè need in this cold place?”

“Information,” Esspelei said, answering without thinking, amazed at the presence of the Yilanè ustuzou.

“This a place of science where we study the winds, the ocean, the weather. All of this is beyond you of course; I don’t know why I bother to explain.”

“Generosity of spirit, from highest to lowest. Do you measure the coldness of the winters, the cold winds that blow ever stronger from the north?”

Esspelei signed surprise and a shade of respect. “You are no fargi, ustuzou, but can speak with the smallest amount of intelligence. We do study the winters for knowledge is science and science is life. This is what we study.”

She gestured toward the grouped instruments, the charts upon the wall, movements of unhappiness behind her speech. Talking more to herself now than to him. “Each year the winters are colder, each winter the ice is further south. Here is dead Soromset and dead Inegban‹. Dead cities. And still the cold comes. Here Ikhalmenets which will be the next to die when the cold comes its way.”

Ikhalmenets! Kerrick trembled with the force of his emotions, took time to speak so his trembling voice did not betray his eagerness. Ikhalmenets, the city that Erafnais had told him about on that beach, before she died, the city that aided Vaintè, the city that had launched the attack that had retaken Deifoben. Ikhalmenets, the enemy.

“Ikhalmenets? In my stupidity I have never heard of the city of Ikhalmenets .”

“Your stupidity is indeed monumental. Sea-girt Ikhalmenets, a shining island in the ocean. You are not Yilanè if you do not know of the existence of Ikhalmenets.”

As she said this she reached out to make her point, tapping one thumb lightly on the hanging chart.

“So stupid I wonder that I can live,” Kerrick agreed. He leaned forward and noted exactly where the thumb had touched. “What generosity of highest to lowest that you even bother to speak with me, much less waste your incredibly valuable time in increasing my knowledge.”

“You speak the truth, Yilanè-ustuzou.” The door opened and a fargi entered with a bladder of meat. “We will eat. Then you will respond to my queries.”

Kerrick ate in silence, filled with a fierce and sudden happiness. He had no other questions, there was nothing more that he needed to know. He knew where the enemy Ikhalmenets was located in the vastness of the oceans, in all the width of the world.