Limits Read Free Page A

they ?”
    “I’m a whale,” said Merle. “I came later.”
    “Oh. There aren’t many were-folk around these days. Anywhere.”
    “We aren’t all gone,” Merle said, while Karskon smiled at how easily they had broached the subject. “The merpeople went away, all right, but it wasn’t just because they’re magical creatures. Their life styles include a lot of magic. Whales don’t practice much magic.”
    “Even so,” Karskon wondered, “what are you doing on land? Aren’t you afraid you might, ah, change? Magic isn’t dependable anymore—”
    “But Rordray is. Rordray would get me out in time. Anyway, I spend most of my time aboard Shrimp . See, if the change comes over me there, it’s no problem. A whale’s weight would swamp my little boat and leave me floating.”
    “I still don’t see—”
    “Sharks.”
    “Ah.”
    “Damn brainless toothy wandering weapons! The more you kill the more the blood draws more till—” Merle shifted restlessly. “Anyway, there are no sharks ashore. And there are books, and people to talk to. Out on the sea there’s only the whale songs . Now, I like the singing; who wouldn’t? But it’s only family gossip, and weather patterns, and shoreline changes, and where are the fish.”
    “That sounds useful.”
    “Sure it is. Fisherfolk learn the whale songs to find out where the fish are. But for any kind of intelligent conversation you have to come ashore. Ah, here’s Rordray.”
    Rordray set three plates in place, bearing generous slabs of swordfish and vegetables cooked in elaborate fashions. “What’s under discussion?”
    “Were-creatures,” Karskon said. “They’re having a terrible time of it almost everywhere.”
    Rordray sat down. “Even in Rynildissen? The wolf people sector?”
    “Well,” Durily said uncomfortably, “they’re changing. You know, there are people who can change into animals, but that’s because there are were-folk among their ancestors. Most were-folk are animals who learned how to take human form. The human shape has magic in it, you know.” Rordray nodded, and she continued. “In places where the magic’s gone, it’s terrible. The animals lose their minds. Even human folk with some animal ancestry, they can’t make the change, but their minds aren’t quite human either. Wolf ancestry makes for good soldiers, but it’s hard for them to stop. A touch of hyena or raccoon makes for thieves. A man with a touch of lion makes a good general, but—”
    Merle shifted restlessly, as if the subject were painful to him. His platter was quite clean now. “Oh, to hell with the problems of were-folk. Tell me how you lost your eye.”
    Karskon jumped, but he answered. “Happened in the baths when I was thirteen. We were having a fight with wet towels and one of my half-brothers flicked my eye out with the corner of a towel. Dull story.”
    “You should make up a better one. Want some help?” Karskon shook his head, smiling despite himself. “Where are you from?”
    “Inland. It’s been years since I tasted fresh fish. You were right, it’s wonderful.” He paused, but the silence forced him to continue. “I’m half Torovan, half Minterl. Duke Chamil of Konth made me his librarian, and I teach his legitimate children. Lady Durily descends from the old Minterl nobility. She’s one of Duchess Chamil’s ladies-in-waiting. That’s how we met.”
    “I never understood shoreside politics,” Merle said. “There was a war, wasn’t there, long ago?”
    Karskon answered for fear that Durily would. “Torov invaded after the quake. It was an obvious power vacuum. The tales tell that the Torovan a r mies never got this far south. What was left of the dukes surrendered first. You’ll find a good many of the old Minterls hereabouts. The Torovans have to go in packs when they come here.”
    Merle was looking disgusted. “Whales don’t play at war.”
    “It’s not a game,” Karskon said.
    Rordray added, “Or at least the stakes