Fossil Hunter Read Free Page B

A geologist’s sash was quite distinctive, what with its twelve pockets running down its length. Forgool should recognize it immediately, and therefore have no trouble spotting Toroca, standing now in the considerable shade afforded by the statue of Dybo.
    Toroca scanned the square. It was almost empty, of course. He saw one old Quintaglio crossing from the right, his tail dragging across the stones. A younger Quintaglio approaching from the left changed course to give the oldster wide clearance, and she nodded territorial concession at him as she did so.
    Neither of them seemed the least bit interested in Toroca, though. He watched as a large wingfinger alighted on Dybo’s statue. The flyer’s reptilian head looked down at Toroca briefly, then it pushed off and glided away, its furry white coat shimmering in the afternoon sunlight, the pointed crest off the back of its head acting as a rudder to help it steer in flight. Toroca turned back and looked around the square again.
    Ah, someone was coming.
    But it wasn’t Forgool. It couldn’t be.
    Forgool was said to be around thirty kilodays old, almost twice Toroca’s own age. But this person was no bigger than Toroca himself. Still, whoever it was was crossing the square with purposeful strides, heading straight for Toroca.
    As the Quintaglio came closer, Toroca took note of two features simultaneously.
    One was startling only in that it again diverged from what he’d been expecting. Forgool was a male, but this person was a female: the front of her neck lacked the loose folds of a dewlap sack.
    But the second feature would have been startling under any circumstances. She had a horn growing out of her muzzle. Toroca’s inner eyelids batted across his black orbs. He’d never seen the like before on an adult.
    When she got within about twenty paces, the female stopped. “Permission to enter your territory?” she said, her voice a bit anxious.
    “ Hahat dan. ” said Toroca, with a little bow of concession.
    “You are Kee-Toroca, leader of the Geological Survey?”
    Toroca nodded.
    “I know you were expecting Dak-Forgool,” she said. “I am from his Pack, Pack Vando. It is my sad duty to report to you that Forgool is dead. He succumbed to a fever.”
    Toroca dipped his muzzle. “I’m very sorry. I’d always wanted to meet him. My condolences to your Pack.”
    “Thank you.”
    There was a silence between them for several moments, then Toroca said, “I am sorry to hear this, and I thank you for bringing me word — I know it was a long journey for you. But I must head back and join my survey team now. It is too bad. We could have used another geologist.” Toroca bowed and began to move away.
    “Wait,” said the female. “Take me with you.”
    Toroca leaned back on his tail. “What?”
    “Take me with you. I’ve come in Forgool’s place.”
    “Were you his apprentice?”
    The female looked at the cobblestones. “No.”
    “Who did you study under?”
    “Hoo-Tendron.”
    “I’ve never heard of him. Is he a geologist?”
    “No. Ah, he’s, um, a merchant.”
    “A merchant?”
    “Yes, with my Pack of Vando. But he trades in gemstones and fossils, and I’ve been his apprentice for many kilodays.”
    “The Geological Survey is a scientific undertaking. We have no need of traders.”
    “Nor do I wish to be a trader anymore.” She raised a hand. “It’s true I’ve had no formal training in geology, but I’ve dealt with fossils and gems for most of my life. Our Pack roams along the Passalat sandstones.” The Passalats were the finest-grained stones in all of Land, known for their magnificent fossils. “I’ve excavated every kind of fossil, even delicate ones like those strange winged things that aren’t wingfingers.”
    “Birds?” said Toroca. “You’ve personally found bird fossils?”
    “Yes.”
    He nodded, impressed. “They’re the rarest find of all. No one knows exactly what birds were.”
    “Indeed,” said the female.
    “But you