wide. “How far east have the waters gone?”
“Miles back into the hills. The track I followed was above the river, but they’ve built a new road for some miles east of Krakenholm. Before I got quite that far, I was watched by some nervous bowmen. Hulix’s men, I’d guess. The Stoneway, the way through the wall . . .”
“What about it?”
“When the water gets to the top of the Stoneway, you’ll have ocean running down the valley instead of a river.”
“Except that most of Wold will probably already be underwater as the sea moves east from Wellsport.” Precious Wind stared out the window. “I have been told that this happened in the Before Time, this great surge of waters, shortly before the hot times came, before the Big Kill and the Time When No One Moved Around.”
“I’ve been told the same,” said Abasio. “Back then, it was a matter of ice melting and then freezing again. This time there’s a lot more water, and as it flows out of the deep caverns, the earth will collapse into them, leaving only water, that’s all.”
Bear made an impatient gesture at what he regarded as so much nonsense. “So, how’d you come all that way?”
“The old maps say the desert is a low place. When I started out, I figured if water got that far, it had filled the desert, so I didn’t go that way. I went north, along the east edge of the mountains, until there was nothing but forests. People call it trackless, but it’s not. There’s trails there, even roads some places. People still trade and travel and wander. There’s blowholes and hot springs jumping out at you, true, but most places people have put up warning signs. Other places there’s signs saying which trails are safe. People are generally helpful; they’re eager for news, always.”
Precious Wind asked, “Do you know which of the old lands are gone?”
“On this continent, by the old names? Some. There was a place called Florda, and it’s gone. There were three places along the water west of Florda and they’re all gone. George’s and Mispi’s and Albambas, something like that. The ocean comes way up into the land along there, and there’s fish! My heaven, are there fish! Conkrodiles, too. Or maybe alley gators. Never did know the difference. Both eat you as soon as say good morning to you. The way we know about them and the fish and all is from the boat people, and there are more of them every year. They’ll decide on a place, maybe a hundred boats or more of them. They’ll link themselves together with ropes and give the place a name. They’ll live there for a year or two, until the fishing gets slim, then one night they’ll untie the ropes, pull up anchors, and go off in all different directions. Later they’ll gather up in different sets of boats and call it something else. Some say it’s a courting move, to remix their families genetically every so often.”
Bear demanded, “And so, what do you do?”
Finally, Bear had come to the question he’d been headed for all along. Abasio had been expecting it. “I do two things. One way I earn money or trade for goods is by being a dyer. I make fancy cloth for women’s clothes, sometimes men’s, too, depending on how people dress wherever I am. I do cloths for dining tables or napkins, sometimes curtains or fabric for fancy furniture. Second thing I do is—you ever hear of a newspaper?”
Great Bear shook his head.
“Back in the Before Time, before the Hot Times and the Big Kill and the Time When No One Moved Around, every day somebody would write down everything interesting that happened and they’d print copies of the writing and go around the town selling copies to everyone so they’d know what was happening. That was a newspaper. They had other ways of doing it, too, but they were ease-machine ways, so we can’t have those ways anymore. Me, and others like me, we’re it. We like to travel and we like to find out what’s happening and we like to tell people about it.
“Miles back into the hills. The track I followed was above the river, but they’ve built a new road for some miles east of Krakenholm. Before I got quite that far, I was watched by some nervous bowmen. Hulix’s men, I’d guess. The Stoneway, the way through the wall . . .”
“What about it?”
“When the water gets to the top of the Stoneway, you’ll have ocean running down the valley instead of a river.”
“Except that most of Wold will probably already be underwater as the sea moves east from Wellsport.” Precious Wind stared out the window. “I have been told that this happened in the Before Time, this great surge of waters, shortly before the hot times came, before the Big Kill and the Time When No One Moved Around.”
“I’ve been told the same,” said Abasio. “Back then, it was a matter of ice melting and then freezing again. This time there’s a lot more water, and as it flows out of the deep caverns, the earth will collapse into them, leaving only water, that’s all.”
Bear made an impatient gesture at what he regarded as so much nonsense. “So, how’d you come all that way?”
“The old maps say the desert is a low place. When I started out, I figured if water got that far, it had filled the desert, so I didn’t go that way. I went north, along the east edge of the mountains, until there was nothing but forests. People call it trackless, but it’s not. There’s trails there, even roads some places. People still trade and travel and wander. There’s blowholes and hot springs jumping out at you, true, but most places people have put up warning signs. Other places there’s signs saying which trails are safe. People are generally helpful; they’re eager for news, always.”
Precious Wind asked, “Do you know which of the old lands are gone?”
“On this continent, by the old names? Some. There was a place called Florda, and it’s gone. There were three places along the water west of Florda and they’re all gone. George’s and Mispi’s and Albambas, something like that. The ocean comes way up into the land along there, and there’s fish! My heaven, are there fish! Conkrodiles, too. Or maybe alley gators. Never did know the difference. Both eat you as soon as say good morning to you. The way we know about them and the fish and all is from the boat people, and there are more of them every year. They’ll decide on a place, maybe a hundred boats or more of them. They’ll link themselves together with ropes and give the place a name. They’ll live there for a year or two, until the fishing gets slim, then one night they’ll untie the ropes, pull up anchors, and go off in all different directions. Later they’ll gather up in different sets of boats and call it something else. Some say it’s a courting move, to remix their families genetically every so often.”
Bear demanded, “And so, what do you do?”
Finally, Bear had come to the question he’d been headed for all along. Abasio had been expecting it. “I do two things. One way I earn money or trade for goods is by being a dyer. I make fancy cloth for women’s clothes, sometimes men’s, too, depending on how people dress wherever I am. I do cloths for dining tables or napkins, sometimes curtains or fabric for fancy furniture. Second thing I do is—you ever hear of a newspaper?”
Great Bear shook his head.
“Back in the Before Time, before the Hot Times and the Big Kill and the Time When No One Moved Around, every day somebody would write down everything interesting that happened and they’d print copies of the writing and go around the town selling copies to everyone so they’d know what was happening. That was a newspaper. They had other ways of doing it, too, but they were ease-machine ways, so we can’t have those ways anymore. Me, and others like me, we’re it. We like to travel and we like to find out what’s happening and we like to tell people about it.
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