Act IV — The Sleeping Water

Page 19 — Not All of Them, to the Same Shore

The count was wrong.

The count was wrong, and I said it at the impact, in the white. I have not said it since, and I held it in through the first two days.

I will say what the count is before I say anything else, because the rest of the page stands on it. Six of us went through the white — the whole of the party, the six the old world gave to the crossing. Five of us are here. The count has been in my hand since the white, the way a stone sits in a hand that has not decided to throw — present, and heavy. A camp that has a wrong count and does not say it is not a camp. It is a wound wearing a camp's clothes.

I said it on the third morning.

The camp was already awake before I stood at the fire. Wreckreate at the water, with his hands in it, and the reading he did not speak. Smackage on the sand, his palm on the ground, his head down. Rumzuck at the seam — the scar he had found new, still new at the third morning — and the looking the ogre gave it. Zahlia by the fire, her hands in her lap, and the air around her thin. I carried the day under the ribs, as I carry the craft.

We had the day's bread, and the bread was the old world's bread — the last of the flour the six of us carried through. I will keep that plain, because the running-out was the morning's part in the world: the world is not owed the six of us a welcome, and the welcome was what the flour was. We broke the bread at the fire.

I said it at the fire, in the plain voice, as you say a thing that has been sitting in your hand for two days and is getting heavy. The fire was the fire we had kept since the first night on the broken coast. I did not look at the four of them while I said it. I looked at the fire, because the fire is what does not answer back in the wrong world.

Six went through. Five are here.

The saying was short. The one word between the two numbers was the word I did not spend — the word that would have been the name. The name came in the second sentence.

The fire did not answer.

The fire does not answer. The smoke went where the smoke goes. The coals were the color of the inside of a shell, the color the coast keeps in the dark. The fire had done its part since the first night.

I will not tell you what we did with the silence.

What we did was not enough, and that is what I have kept. Rumzuck stood at the seam with his hands folded over the grip, where they go when the ogre has already finished the thing that is being said. Smackage did not get up from the sand. His palm was flat, his head was down. Wreckreate stood at the water's line with his hands at his sides, and the water went in and out at the line without changing for the count. Zahlia stood a little back from the fire with her hands in her lap, and the air around her went thin.

The place that was empty had a name on it.

The name was Uuaellaen, and the name is what I have kept since the white. The seat is the place by the fire, set a little back from the light. We did not move the seat on the third morning. We move the things we have finished with, and leaving the seat where it was was our word for what we had not finished with.

The name was in my mouth before I said it.

The name had been in my mouth for two days, present and heavy. A man does not hold a name in his mouth for two days and not spend it.

And I said the name.

I said it in the plain voice, as the count was said — not louder, not softer, not as the old world said the names of the lost. The old world had a way of saying the names of the lost. I did not use the old world's way. I said the name as we say the count: plain, and once.

The name went out over the black sand.

The name did not come back. The black sand took the light without keeping it, and the gulls went over the broken line without landing, and the water went in and out at the line. The world ran on its own, and the running did not change for the name.

The morning went on after the name. The camp did not fall to pieces. A camp that says its count is a camp. The wound took off its clothes, and we stood in our own shape.

The count is right now.

Six went through. Five are here. And the one who is not here — we keep the seat for him. The name said once, the seat kept, the count right, and the three keepings are what I have kept since.