in spite of himself. “Boredom, I never put that together.”
“But after satisfying himself that the ocean was quite limitless, and mindful of his responsibilities back in First Town, Egdod turned back and flew east, headed generally back toward the huge rock that he had set up to mark the outlet of the great river. It was a long journey, as you can see. He grew weary of flying in a straight line and began turning this way and that, and ever since this series of gulfs and peninsulas that complicate the Land’s southern coastline—so different from the Backhaul—has been known as—”
“The Turnings!” exclaimed Mard. “Another of those funny old words . . .”
“The largest of these Egdod later enlarged into the Central Gulf. But in due course he spied the big rock where his circumnavigation had begun and made his way to it, throwing in lots of picturesque headlands and cliffs here along the southeastern corner, as he sensed it was his last opportunity to use up his best ideas before he got to the end. And that is why the Land has the shape that it does—it’s nothing to do with El.”
“I heard he got a lot wrong, though,” said Mard. Lyne shot him a look. “I mean, even people who believe in the old songs and tales say as much.” He said that for the benefit of Weaver, who had begun fussing with her harp—an instrument that was nearly impossible to tune even when it was bone-dry. She was older than Prim, and seemed to have devoted most of her years to memorizing stories and ballads. When her harp was in working order, which actually was not that often, she would sing them with enough conviction to make everyone present believe that they were true recitals of the facts.
Sensing that the others were looking her way, Weaver shrugged. Oddly enough, she always seemed a little bewildered when she found herself the center of attention. “It would be a sign of great learning to be able to recite all the tales of Egdod and Pluto. I know only a small portion of them and yet could devote an entire evening to the telling of stories in that vein.”
“And she will, if we sit still for it,” said Lyne.
“It’s easy for fault finders to come along thousands of years later and say that Egdod shouldn’t have made Pluto’s job so difficult,” said Prim. “But that’s nothing like claiming that El made the entire Land. Why, that’s just rubbish.”
“But the Pinnacle, the Palace, the Hive!” Lyne said. And he made a quick glance over his shoulder, roughly eastward, and bowed slightly at the waist. Even though they were too far away to see the Palace, this was a common gesture among persons who were inclined to take El’s side of things. Mard belatedly did the same. The others—Brindle, Prim, and Weaver—glanced east but omitted the bowing part of it. Burr jerked in his sleep. Corvus flapped his wings irritably.
“Those are places, yes, where El changed things dramatically,” Brindle admitted. “But even the most fervent priests of El accept the notion that Egdod started it all. It works in their favor, actually, since whenever they notice something about the Land that seems ungainly or cack-handed, they can blame it on Egdod.”
“I know,” Lyne admitted. “It’s just that it all seems a bit made-up.”
“What do you mean, made-up?”
“Egdod flying about and putting this here and that there, and Pluto cleaning up after him.”
“Make this up, stripling!” shouted Corvus in a voice even more strangled and cacophonous than the norm. They all turned toward the boulder where he was perching and saw—a man. A naked man enrobed in long black hair, and a long black beard, with beady black eyes. His skin was ocher and his nails long and yellowed and talonlike. He was sitting on his haunches. His beard dangled down between his legs and concealed the place where one would expect to see a penis. The mountain breeze was whipping his hair around his face, only his eyes burning through the blur.
“Oh. My. Goodness,” Brindle said.
“Where did he come from?” Lyne asked, looking around for a weapon. “And where’s the bird?”
Burr levered himself up to his full height, which was considerable, using his spear. It didn’t take long for him to notice the strange naked man on the rock. He took a step in that direction and brought the spear’s tip down to bear on the intruder.
“I think he is the bird,