Enge turned to face Kerrick, looked into his eyes as though she might find the answer to her question there. But there was nothing that he could say in answer, and she realized that.
“Someday you may know,” she said. “Now you are too young. I strongly doubt if you can comprehend the wonder of the vision that Ugunenapsa had, a vision of a truth that she could explain to others. And the proof as well! For she angered the Eistaa who ordered her to set aside these false beliefs and live as all Yilanè have done since the egg of time. Ugunenapsa refused and thereby put her beliefs ahead of her city and the commands of her Eistaa. The Eistaa saw disobedience and stripped her of her name, ordered her from the city. Do you know what this means? No, you cannot. A Yilanè cannot live without her city and her name once she has attained it. To leave is to die. Since the egg of time a Yilanè turned away from her city has suffered a deadly change. The rejection is so strong that the Yilanè collapses instantly, quickly falls unconscious and soon dies. It was always that way.”
Enge was possessed now of a strange humor, something between elation and delight. She halted and took Kerrick lightly by both arms and looked into his eyes, trying to convey what she felt.
“But Ugunenapsa did not die. There was a new thing in the world with proof undeniable. And since that day this truth has been proven time and time again. I was ordered from Inegban*, ordered to die—and I did not. None of us died, which is why we are here. They call us the Daughters of Death because they say that we have a pact with death. That is not true. We call ourselves the Daughters of Life and that is true. Because we live where others die.”
Kerrick wriggled free of her cool and gentle grasp, turning away, lying. “I have come too far. I am forbidden to be here in the fields.” He tugged on his leash, avoiding the intensity of her gaze. “Inlènu*, we return.”
Enge watched in silence as he left, then turned back to the fields. Kerrick looked behind him then and saw her plod slowly down the dusty track. He shook his head with mystification and wondered what she had been talking about. Then he noticed the orange trees nearby and pulled Inlènu* that way. His throat was dry and the sun was hot and he had not understood one word in ten that Enge had said. He had no way of knowing that her beliefs were the first rift ever torn in the millions of years of Yilanè homogeneity. To be Yilanè was to live as Yilanè. Nothing else had been comprehensible. Until now.
There were armed guards posted here, and about the entire city, who looked at him curiously as he pulled the ripe oranges from the tree. These guards provided daytime security, while larger and stronger traps were positioned to block entry by night. But in the days to come the guards saw nothing—while the traps merely collected a great assortment of animals of all kinds. The ustuzou killers never returned.
In all the time that it took for the uruketo to cross the ocean to Inegban* and return there were no further attacks on the city. When the uruketo did arrive Vaintè and her retinue were waiting as the great beast was secured to the land. It was the commander, Erafnais, who was first ashore, pausing before Vaintè and formally acknowledging her high station.
“I bring a personal message from Malsas<, Eistaa, who is much concerned about the ustuzou atrocity. I have private words for you, but she also commanded me to speak aloud of the need for vigilance and strength—and the destruction of the ustuzou. To that end she has sent her best hunters, with hèsotsan and darts, and the will to destroy the menace completely." "We are all of a like mind," Vaintè said. "Walk beside me as we go for I want to hear all the news of Inegban*." There was indeed news, and, in the privacy of Vaintè's quarters, Erafnais related it to her, with Alakensi the only other present.