was confined to muted colors. I saw no house embroidered on his tunic apart from the osprey. He worked his way up the road, asking everyone he passed if they might have seen a Bone Giant before the invasion.
“No,” Father said, and I said, “Yes, we did,” at the same time. That earned me a dour glance from Father, and he asserted once more that we hadn’t.
The old man’s eyes shifted between me and Father. “May I introduce myself? I’m Gondel Vedd, a language scholar from the university at Linlauen.” That explained why he spoke Brynt so well. He had a bit of a charming accent but had no difficulty with the words. “The reason I ask is that one of these Bone Giants landed near Linlauen and we still have him there now. I’m able to speak some of their language, so I’ve been sent up here to see if I can piece together what happened and perhaps help our countries avoid further violence.”
Father said, “I’m sorry, but we haven’t—” and then Mother chucked him on the shoulder and scowled. Father sighed and jerked his head back at me. “Talk to my daughter.”
I sketched out for him what had happened that night with the giant woman who was possibly named Motah, and he asked me particulars about the map.
“Which map did you give her? A regional map of Brynlön and Rael?”
“No, it was of all six nations. A very good map—Kaurian made, in fact.”
“You’re positive?”
“Yes. It’s the only map of the world we had, and there was a drawing of Mistral Kira and her osprey on it, I remember that.”
“She probably didn’t make it back, then. Or else the leaders weren’t sharing the big picture with the soldiers.”
“I’m sorry, what do you mean?”
“I spoke with one of them recently. There are a few in Möllerud, and I’ve already warned the mariners at the front of the column to beware. He has seen regional maps but not a map of all six nations.”
“Oh! So our map couldn’t have made it back to wherever they came from?”
“They call it Ecula. And it appears unlikely. Unless the Bone Giants are lying to their own people.” He plunged his hand into a flat leather bag slung across his body and produced a strangely bound book with the foreign words Zanata Sedam on the cover. “Did she by any chance have a copy of this book with her?”
“No, she had a dagger with her, and that’s it. I mean, she might have had a book in her boat, but we never got a close look at that.” Then I remembered that I had recorded the whole thing in my diary and asked him to follow me to the back of the wagon. I crawled in, fetched my diary, then invited him to sit on the tailgate with me. I turned to the entry and showed it to him.
“Fascinating,” he said as he read it, and then turned to me. “Would you mind terribly if I made a copy of this account? It’s quite helpful and precisely what I was hoping to hear about.”
“Sure, go ahead,” I said. “And I know of at least three other families who have seen one,” I added.
“Are they nearby? Might I speak with them?”
“Tarrön du Hallard is in Setyrön. But he might not want to talk about it anymore. The Bone Giant killed his family.”
Gondel pursed his lips together. “I see. They can turn violent of a sudden, I’ve noticed,” he said.
“Is the one you have in Kauria like that, too?”
Gondel nodded. “He’s calm until he sees his religious text. Then he tries to get to it no matter what. A fanatic.”
“Well, I did write down what the du Bandres said. It’s in my entry about the clave.” I leafed through the pages until I found it and showed him.
“Ah! My thanks. You are so kind to share this with me.”
He produced his own paper and ink and scribbled down my entries in Kaurian, translating as he went. I let him work in silence and tried my very best not to stare at the tempest as he walked behind and to one side of the cart, keeping Gondel Vedd in sight. In my imagination he was doing the same thing I was and trying not to look at me, stealing glances out of the corners of his eyes. It was fortunate that Jorry was walking up front with the horses and saw none of this; he would tease me