Storyteller by Amy Thomson

Author:Amy Thomson [Thomson, Amy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Roman
ISBN: 0441012566
Publisher: Ace Books
Published: 2004-12-31T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 9

TELLER STOOD ON THE DECK OF THE ESMERALDA, looking out at the choppy gray sea. Abeha and her escort of harsel males were feeding on a rich patch of plankton. Abeha’s tall sail made her easy to spot, even though she wallowed heavily in the water, her hold full of ripening eggs.

In the two months since they had left Zafran Bay, Abeha had continued to gorge herself while her fertilized eggs ripened inside her. The harsels had headed south, to the rich feeding grounds on the edge of the Great South Sea.

Sometime in the depths of midwinter, Abeha’s eggs would hatch. A milky substance secreted by the walls of her hold would nourish the two-inch long hatchlings. The more Abeha ate, the longer she could feed the mindless, hungry harlings sheltering in her womblike hold. The longer the hatchlings stayed in her hold, the bigger they would be, and the better their chances for survival when they emerged.

Teller had never seen a female harsel as fat as Abeha. And

she had gained this weight despite the deep, raking gashes in her keel from the fanged rocks of the Narrows. Teller closed her eyes, remembering the blood in the water and the gallons of wound sealant that she and half a dozen other har captains had hurriedly applied to the bone-deep gashes. Abeha had been right. The next mating would have been too late. But that didn’t make it any easier to accept the harsel’s approaching death.

Samad stuck his head out of the deckhouse.

“The weather report on the radio’s predicting a blow tonight,” Samad called over the rising wind. “Should we put on more storm lashings?”

Teller nodded. The storm was no surprise. She’d seen the mackerel belly clouds closing in at dawn. The barometer had fallen steadily throughout the morning, too. It was the third serious gale in the last ten days. The winter weather was closing in. The harsels seemed to thrive amid the gales, but the. Esmeralda couldn’t handle the high winds and mountainous seas of winter in the Great South Sea.

It was time to head back to port. If Teller had been alone, she’d have stayed until the boat sank and took her with it, but she couldn’t risk Samad’s life.

“All right, Samad. You put on the storm lashings, and I’ll reef the sail,” Teller told him. “After the storm blows over, we’re heading back to Viento.”

“For the season?” Samad asked, looking unhappy.

“I’m afraid so, Samad. It’s just getting too dangerous out here. We’ve already stayed out long past any other boat on record.”

“But—”

“No, Samad. It’s too dangerous.”

“I was hoping to stay out until Abeha’s eggs hatch.”

“So was I, but we just can’t stay out here any longer.”

He sighed. “It’s going to be a very long winter.”

Poor Samad; he hated Viento. Teller couldn’t blame him. The barren, rocky island lived up to its windy name. There was grazing for sheep in the sheltered upland valleys, but most of the people on Viento were fisherman, who stayed in port during the turbulent storms of winter.

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