out, inspecting sea aster, golden samphire, glasswort: plants that liked salt and fed on what they trapped from the tidal flows.
Shade stood uncertainly with Zesi at the head of this beach. ‘We have walked from sea to sea,’ he said.
‘The people who live hereabouts have legends of when this wasn’t a sea at all, but a lake. Fresh water. Then the salt gods pissed in it, and everything died, until the fish swam in from the sea . . .
Shade was only half-listening. A boy of the forest stranded out in the open, once more he looked out of place. Zesi felt she had warmed to him after the incident of Gall’s deer. ‘Come. Take off your boots. I’ll show you what to do.’
She took his hand, and pulled him across the beach.
They reached wet, muddy sand that sucked at their bare feet, slowing them. Shade stared at the exposed seabed, where worm casts glistened, and the shells of oysters jostled. ‘You timed this walk,’ he said. ‘You wanted us to get here when the tide is low.’
‘Not just low but at its lowest, as it is at the equinoxes, in spring and autumn.’
‘This is your victory over the moon.’
‘In the end she will take us all to her cold bosom. But today, just today, we can steal her treasures . . . Here. What a beauty!’ She picked up an oyster, wider than her outspread fingers. ‘Look. It’s easy when you get the knack. You place it on a rock, like this. Flat side up. Then you take your knife and work it into the hinge, and just prise it open. Careful! You don’t want to lose any juices.’
He stared at the animal exposed inside the opened shell. ‘Then what?’
‘You eat it!’ She picked up the oyster and sucked it into her mouth, letting the salty juices flow after. ‘Here. Find another one, and try yourself.’
He was good at the manual art of opening the shells, but the first he tried to eat made him gag, and the juices ran down his face. The second he swallowed, but pulled a face. By the third he was smiling. ‘It’s salty. It’s strange - it’s good. The first splash of salt, and then the flesh, it bursts in your mouth, it’s almost sweet.’
‘It’s best not to eat them much later than this, not until the autumn. They spawn in the summer, and the flesh can be white and tasteless . . . Oh, look! Your brother is trying one.’
Jurgi the priest had taken it on himself to teach Gall. With bold gestures Gall tipped up his shell and sucked down the meat, only to spit it out on the ground. ‘Urgh! Are you feeding me your snot, man?’ Gathering up his blade he stomped off up the beach.
‘Don’t laugh,’ Shade murmured to Zesi.
‘I wouldn’t dream of it. You really aren’t much like your brother, are you?’
‘Do you think that’s good or bad?’
‘What do you think?’
He sighed. ‘Well, you’re right. I’m not like him. That won’t do me any good at home. Gall is stronger, a better hunter. Smarter in some ways. More cunning. More decisive.’ He grinned, and stood up. ‘I never ate an oyster before, but I have been swimming. I can hold my breath like a seal. Watch me.’ He ran off into a sea that was soon lapping over his legs, and then he dived forward and began swimming with strong strokes.
The priest came over, sand clinging to his bare torso, his blue hair wild. ‘He likes you.’
She shrugged. ‘I’m just not as hard on him as his brother is. Or Ana, come to that, who I think he likes.’
‘Ana has her problems. Perhaps now your grandmother is safely in the midden - we will see. The day has gone well. The weather is mild, and we arrived at the time of the low tide.’
‘The gods have been kind to us.’
He grunted. ‘Kind with the weather. The timing is thanks to you and your planning. The gods offer us gifts all the time. It’s up to us whether we are capable of taking them or not. Look over there.’ He pointed along the beach, to the west.
The sun was low, there was heat haze, and it was difficult to see. She made out movement. She had noticed it before; she thought it was a seal colony. It wasn’t. ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘People.’
‘Yes.’
‘I never heard of us meeting people on this beach before, at this time.’