Previous

Amyra led the others to the shipworker.  “Hello.  I’m Raean Iarili,” he said in hesitant Rhetian.

“You can speak Lilacan,” Amyra said in Lilacan, chuckling.  “They all speak it perfectly well, too.”

“Quite the fishing trip I shall have today,” Raean said, also laughing.  “All right.  Here’s the boat.  She’s a steady one; no need to worry about tipping over.”  The boat was made out of wood and didn’t look quite big enough to fit Raean, his brother and sister, and the five travelers.  Raean pushed it into the water next to the riverbank.  The back of the boat was on the bank, which Raean held onto.

“Good,” Amyra said.  “There’s no bottom to the Raeafteaft, is there?”  Ellna remembered the tales, and felt nervous.  If you fell out of the boat, you’d just keep going down for ever and ever into the deep blue.  Plus, it was cursed.  Sailors didn’t like crossing between the Rhetian and Lilacan Islands.  The Iarilis were brave sailors to be willing to take them across.  That, or they were still angry that their once-powerful ancestors were no longer very powerful at all.

“Okay then.  Cela, you’re in front for look out.  Perhaps your small girl can join her.  Aran, you go next.  We’ll put the luggage and the rest of you in the middle.  I’ll take the back to steer.”

“Shall I have Cenai sit next to Aran?”  Amyra asked.  “He can take a turn rowing.”

Ellna walked onto the boat after Cela.  The other girl was probably around 11, with sandy curls and a simple Lilacan girl’s dress.  She sprang from bench to bench despite the rocking of the boat as easily as if she was walking on solid, flat ground.  Ellna nearly fell in, tipping the boat slightly, but Aran caught her.

“Careful, girl,” he said.  “This is a boat, not Ornod City.”

Ellna nodded, unsteadily walking to the front.  The others got in and Raean pushed off as he gracefully jumped in.  He and Aran each grabbed their oars and they paddled through the salt marshes out to the open water.  The air was humid and misty.  Ellna could hear birds chirping, though the cries of “sinta, kera, tanof”; nonsense words that kept the time.  Lacan numbers had very different numbers of syllables, so they were useless to keep time.

They passed several other fishing boats, some heading out and others already fishing.  Raean called out to some of them.

“You have passengers today, Raean?”  One of the fishers in another boat called back.

“Makes more money than fishing, and she’s a sturdy vessel.”

“Open water is not to my taste,” the fisher called back, laughing.  Ellna noticed that the other boat was much smaller.

The ocean waves bumped the boat around, worrying Ellna that the boat would capsize.  Cela didn’t seem to care and continued calling out the time.  She did not pause until Raean decided it was time for a break.  Aran and Cenai switched who was rowing while Raean and Cela drunk from separate jugs of water.  The air was warm despite a mist that made it difficult to see very far.