Arlen's tail twitched as he laid out another of his cards. "Oh chief, the last time the spirits made their will known to me, it was that they were against Thoko's rule."

Juti said, "That's a lie!"

The chief held up one hand, webbed fingers spread. "What exactly did they show you?"

Arlen explained. The pipe-smoking man grunted, finally saying, "You've brought war to us."

"Thoko brought it. I can give you the tools to end it in your favor. But I'd like to hear your story. Why is this island tainted by some kind of poison?"

Juti complained, "It's not your business, outsider."

But the chief said, "It's a good question for an ignorant pup." He puffed on his pipe. "Years ago a terrible beast crawled up from the sea. It began to poison the shore and all the land around it as it wandered, marking territory. Those warriors who came against it died. Those who lingered near it sickened, and the fields withered. We call it the Foul Shell, like a turtle or an octopus. We could do nothing."

The old man puffed and clenched the arm of his chair. "Good men died. My friends, my rivals. I was there, but..."

Juti put a hand on his shoulder. "No one blames you."

Hassna seemed not to hear. "Many were the shouts as the chiefs gathered and war-drums beat. Thoko struck the mighty blow that chastened, but the wound poured out sickness and the greatest fell. Now Thoko is the survivor and senior chief. The beast is contained, knowing its territory, but its foulness keeps much of the island tainted. Little grows here but one type of gourd, and the fish avoid the coast. But we persevere."

Juti said, "And we can continue doing that without meddling."

Arlen clenched his fists. "Yes, you can keep existing, barely. Is that all you want for your families?"

Juti cursed at him. "Who do you think you are to lecture us about our loss?"

"I'm from far away. I tell you you're not the only ones to suffer disaster. Even this latest storm is nothing in the grand scheme of things. Your story ended with the rise of Thoko and the loss of your heroes and farmland. Don't you want to add more to it? In fact, Juti, what's your objection to my building things for you?"

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

"You want us to fight and kill and suffer more!"

The chief said, "Juti is a cousin of Thoko. We have peace now... for what it's worth. Accepting any help from you threatens that."

Juti declared, "Then you have your answer, outsider. The high chief will have you, and then --"

"No." Hassna puffed and breathed deeply. "Juti, in the morning you will take these two to the holy crater. They seek the spirits, so let them try to do that."

"Very well," said the shaman, and left without giving Arlen another glance.

#

It was before dawn when Juti came to the door of a stone hut Arlen had made for himself and Meadow. "What is this? You've caged yourself."

Arlen groaned as he woke up. He'd squashed his tail painfully under himself and the bedding was too thin. He'd shaped this structure as a little maze with a door no intruder could easily pass. He flowed the stonework slowly out of the way. "I was practicing."

"I've prepared the way. You must leave all your belongings for the journey."

"Isn't it a long climb?"

Juti shrugged. "Our people endure it. Can you?"

"I'll be ready in a few minutes, then." Arlen shooed him away.

Meadow woke up groggy. "Ugh. So early?"

Arlen spoke quietly. "He wants us to leave behind everything." He pointed to the knife he'd been carrying lately, and to the waterproof bag carrying his gun.

Meadow woke up a little more. "Do you suppose...?"

"Be prepared." Arlen reshaped part of the floor and buried his equipment under it.

"That was faster than I've seen you do before."

He shushed her. "Let's go."

They walked up a rocky slope in the dim early light. Juti had a walking stick with a lantern on it. Arlen cast a spell that conjured a bit of ice slowly, just to have a frosty glow to see by, but it was cold enough that he had to keep switching hands.

The main town stretched far below. He estimated a few thousand people lived here but the land was underused. The blue haze had begun to stand out in a wide swath near the coast. Its edge overlapped people's homes. Much of the other land was too steep or rocky for farming without terrace techniques these people hadn't developed, and possibly magic irrigation. Physically it was a nice place; in his world it would be a tourist destination with boating and climbing and nature hikes. Though out of breath from the hiking part, he chuckled.

"What?" said Meadow, looking worn out herself.

"Thinking about the shockjaws. They'd be a nasty surprise for outsiders trying to admire the wildlife."

Juti said, "We keep the trail safe enough."

Up and ahead stood a plateau where upright boulders had been carved with swirling designs and several large trees cast shadows across the trail. Arlen tensed, and elbowed Meadow for attention.

Juti trotted faster to cross the flat area, then paused for breath. Then whistled.

The ground collapsed under Arlen and Meadow. He yelled and crashed painfully ten feet down, landing on his left side.

Juti glared down at him. "I won't let you defile our home. Everyone, now!"

Other faces appeared around the open grave. Maybe eight of them. Then their spears and bows.