The swordsman’s forehead furrowed. “How do you know that?”
“Because many such creatures wash up dead on the beaches near my home. Their bodies are flaccid and their lights dimmed, but they still glow for a little while after dying.” He nodded toward the clearing sky. “The waters offshore from my village go down very deep. It must be exceedingly dark in the depths, like a perpetual night, for the creatures that live there to need to make their own light.”
“A handy property,” Simna agreed. “There have been times when I would have liked to have been able to shine a little light from my own body.”
The herdsman looked at him strangely. “Everyone does so, Simna. It is just that it is difficult to see. It takes practice to separate it out from the natural light that surrounds us every day.”
The shorter man laughed easily. “So you’re saying that I glow like those fishy things? Like a jellyfish, maybe?”
“No, not like a jellyfish. The light that people, or at least most people, emit, is something very different. But you do glow, my friend. Less intensely in ways than you would like to believe, and more brightly in other kinds. There are many, many different kinds of light.”
“Well, at least I’m not dark.” Simna enjoyed the notion, even though he was not sure he understood at all what his cryptic companion was talking about. “How about everyone else?” Turning, he gestured at those nearby, not really expecting the herdsman to respond.
Instead, Ehomba rested his chin on his knees and squinted, pausing once to wipe away a lingering droplet of salt water. “The Captain, she glows only a very few colors, but those colors are as pure and strong as I have ever seen in a person. The helmswoman Priget emits light in fits and bits, like the sparks from a fire. That man working the ropes over there, his lights are few and dim, but far from being absent.” The herdsman’s gaze roved the open decks.