“Incredible,” Crat'ax marvels as he paddles. “Not only is the run beyond all expectation, we also have the net to catch many more of them than we otherwise could. Let’s make another trip out here.”
When we reach the village, we unload the full boxes. The men who are ready to gut the splix stare with open mouths.
“That… is remarkable,” Chief Brun'ax manages. “I’ve never seen so many splix in one place.”
“It is a giant run,” Crat'ax tells him. “And this net means we can catch more of them than ever before. Even my spear isn’t as good as this. Now will we agree that Callie is a blessing from the Deep?”
“A blessing?” The chief shoots a quick glance toward the dragon’s cage. “Yes… yes, perhaps. Oh, you’ll make another trip? Are you sure? Come on, boys. You’ll be gutting fish until the next moon at this rate.”
We get all the way out of the bay before any of the other canoes turn for home, heavy with splix.
A thought comes unbidden to mind:I wish Dorie could see this.
As we fill the boxes again and turn back home, the dragon’s words echo through my mind.I will make something good happen to the tribe. I suppose this could be it.
Back at the village, the tribe is all smiles and laughter and awestruck wonder as the boxes full of splix stack up so the platforms creak.
“I’ve never seen anything like this!”
“Blessed be the Deep!”
“This is food for years to come! We can eat splix with every meal!”
“I hope the Dry tribes brought enough wares to barter for this great wealth.”
“That net… is it hard to make?”
I have a permanent grin on my face as I watch the boys gut splix. Then I have an idea. “Don’t throw the guts away. Keep them and dry them. Gren’ix, there’s your fertilizer. Grind up dry splix guts and mix it in with the dirt to help the plants grow. Or use them raw. Just bury them well.”
The old man smiles. “I wonder if you may be right, Crat'ax. She may be a blessing to us all.”
The tribe starts to worry as the splix keep piling up. “We’ll all be on gutting duty for the next six moons,” someone laments.
“But there’s no need for us to gut all of them,” Crat'ax says. “Let the Dry tribes gut their own splix!”
“Ah,” the chief exclaims. “Good idea. Ures’ax! Light the fire! Let them all know that the day of trade is here!”
The fire in the Circle is lit, and special wood makes it give off a pillar of red smoke that first rises straight up, then bends toward the jungle as the breeze takes it.
Tribesmen paddle empty canoes toward the shore, where men from other tribes are already waiting to be ferried out here.
The tribes come in waves. Canoes nose up to the platforms and men climb out unsteadily, unused to the canoes. Their eyes are already measuring the piles of splix. They wear different loincloths, different swords, and they have stripes of different colors. They smell of smoke and earth and unfamiliar oils.
I count six tribes, which surprises me. The Adropo tribe is nowhere to be seen, to my relief.
More than once, I catch someone staring at me a little too long, then looking away too quickly when Crat'ax shifts closer. I hear my name spoken with strange accents, passed along with quiet comments I can’t understand. I smile when they look at me directly, but the smiles don’t always come back.
Trade begins in earnest. Bundles of dried roots, cured hides, obsidian blades, coils of string and beads change hands. There are fabrics and skins and firewood and many pots of various dried goods, as well as big pots of frit. All of it is coming our way, and the other tribes only take away splix.
The traders’ eyes widen as they realize just how many there are. They’re truly astonished and don’t complain when they learn they have to gut the things themselves.
Someone laughs and says something that makes a group of men glance toward the far end of the bay, toward the platform and the cage. No one laughs after that. A man from one of the Dry tribes asks, casually, what they keep out there.
The answer he gets is vague and short, but also smug in a way I don’t like. I notice how the conversation shifts immediately after, as if a line has been crossed.
I find myself looking that way too. I can’t see the dragon from here, just the dark shape of the platform against the glittering water. Still, I feel that shudder going through me, and I’m sure he’s looking at me right now.
The splix pile higher, and the traders look pleased. Everything is going well. And yet my stomach feels tight, as if I’ve swallowed something sharp.
