Nia frowned. “I still say that was wrong.”

“Have you done nothing worse, o woman of the Iron People?”

“I have done much that is worse.” Nia’s voice was even.

“I heard the women of the village. They sat in front of their houses and spoke together. They did not praise Tanajin. They said, ‘Who is helping her, this woman without brothers? Who brings her fine skins when the rest of us get nothing?’

“They said, ‘Even Ulzai was not able to kill this many umazi.And he was the best of the hunters. Tanajin has gotten help that is out of the ordinary. Maybe a spirit takes the luck from our sons and our brothers.’

“I wanted to shout up at them, ‘You fools, I am the one who is helping Tanajin. Ulzai the hunter! I am no spirit!’ But I could say nothing.”

Nia made the gesture of agreement. “That is what happens when you listen in secret. You hear things you don’t want to hear. You have to bite your tongue.”

Ulzai looked angry. “Don’t criticize me.”

For a moment or two Nia was motionless. Then she made the gesture of agreement, followed by the gesture of apology.

Ulzai made the gesture of acknowledgment. “I left and came again. I heard more malicious gossip. They said it was dangerous to go near the house of Tanajin at night. A giant umazilay in the dark water under the platform. A white bird sat on the rooftop.”

“Aiya,” said the oracle.

“I heard a boy speaking. He wasn’t very old. I could tell that from the sound of his voice. He said he looked down from the house of his mother on a night when the moon was full. There was a man in the home channel, standing in a boat and poling it toward the house of Tanajin. The boat was full of the skins of lizards. The man looked up, the boy said. His eyes shone like sparks of fire. He opened his mouth. The mouth was empty. The man had no tongue. It was Ulzai, the boy said. It was me, and I was dead. Tanajin had worked magic and pulled me from the place where I lay in the cold water of the marsh. Now I worked for her.

“He was lying,” said Ulzai. “I wanted to call him a liar. ‘I am Ulzai,’ I wanted to yell. ‘I am alive and I use a paddle, not a pole.’ ”

“Hu!” said Derek.

“I do not know why any of this happened. Why did they praise my mother? Why did they say bad things about Tanajin? Do you know?” he asked Nia.

“No.”

“I was angry. I decided I would kill no more umazi.I went into the distant marshes and lived on fish. The weather grew cold. Rain fell. I got the shivering sickness. I’d had it before. Most men get it after they have lived in the marsh for a while.” He paused. “This time it was bad. First I became too sick to fish. Then I became too sick to eat. I lay in my boat under my cloak of well-tanned umaziskin. Rain fell. I shivered and dreamed.

“The great lizards came, swimming out of the marshes. They formed a circle around me. They spoke. ‘Why have you given up on us? Is there anything more splendid than an umazi?Look at our sharp teeth! Look at our claws! We are huge and frightening. Will you ever find a prey more worthwhile?’

“I tried to answer. My teeth chattered, and I could not speak.

“ ‘You have become a coward, Ulzai. You use your spear on little fish. You fear the voices of women. You lie here and wait to die of the shivering sickness.

“ ‘We are your death. Not this miserable illness. We will get you one day, but only if you hunt us. Get up now! Paddle to the village. Go to Tanajin. She will help you. And when you are well, come after us.’

“They swam away, and I got up. I could hardly sit. The world moved in a circle around me, and I wanted to lie down, but I could not. The umazihad told me what to do.

“I paddled to the village. I came during the day, though I did not realize it. The world seemed dark to me. I reached the house of Tanajin. I tied my boat, but I could not climb up.

“She came down. I told her the lizards had said I must come to her. They were my death. I could not die of anything else. They had told me so.

“She helped me climb the ladder. She helped me into the house and made a bed for me—there, within the walls of her house. She cared for me until I was over the sickness.

“That is the end of the story. We could not stay in the village. They knew now—the old women—who had helped Tanajin. Ulzai the hunter! There was no magic. No bad spirit.” He spread his hands. “Only Ulzai. Ulzai who would not die. Who came into the village.

“Now they were angry because of that. I should have died in the marshes. Tanajin should have left me in the boat.”

He reached for the jar that had held the beer.

“It’s empty,” Derek said.

Ulzai made the gesture of regret. “Tanajin packed up. We loaded my boat. We left together.”

“Why?” asked Nia.

“Tanajin needed help. She didn’t know anything about living outside the village. And I was angry. I no longer cared about the opinions of other people. I had tried everything I could to win the praise of those women. I was even willing to die alone in the marshes until the umazitalked to me.

“I decided—from now on I would help those people who helped me. And I would listen to no one.” He paused.

“Tanajin made a poem.

He made the gesture that meant “so be it” or “it is finished.”

The rest of us were silent.

Ulzai stood up. “I am going out again. Maybe I’ll return tonight. Maybe I won’t.” He left the cave.

Derek shifted position, bringing one knee up and resting his arm on it. His long hair was unfastened at the moment. It fell around his shoulders, and one lock was in his eyes. He brushed it back, then scratched his chin. “The first thing I’m going to do when we get back is get rid of some of this fur.”

“But you have so little!” said Nia.

One of my fingernails was ragged. I gave it a bite. “I don’t understand the story.”

“You don’t have to understand everything,” said Derek.

“Why did the women of the village dislike Tanajin?”

“There are women like that,” said Nia. “They don’t fit in. Maybe they like to quarrel or maybe they hold themselves aloof from other people.

“I had a friend when I was young. Angai. She was the daughter of the shamaness, and she had a sharp tongue. Most people didn’t like her. They talked about her, though not usually when I was around.”

“What happened to her?” I asked. “Did she end up like Tanajin?”

Nia made the gesture that meant “no.” “Her mother died. She became the shamaness. I have told you about her. I am sure of that.”

“I don’t remember. Were you a person like Tanajin?”

“No,” said Nia. “I was ordinary. People didn’t talk about me.” She frowned. “I don’t think they did. Not until they found out about me and Enshi. Then everything changed.”

She looked uncomfortable. I changed the subject. We talked about the weather and then about the river. Ulzai did not return. The fire burnt down, becoming a heap of coals. One thin wisp of smoke still rose from it, curling into the leaves. I lay down, listening to the others. Their voices grew softer and more distant, until finally their words lost meaning.

Derek woke me in the morning. “Come on. Ulzai says it’s going to be a long day.”

I rolled over and groaned. The air felt damp. My arms ached. I went outside to pee.

A fog filled the valley. The river was invisible. The bushes, even the ones right in front of me, were dim and colorless. Not a day for the solar salute. I did some stretching exercises, then went back in the cave. No one had bothered to rebuild the fire. The cave was dark and warm. It smelled of furry bodies. A comforting aroma.