They sampled the lake in kitchen bowls.
Veyna provided six, all chipped. Deren wanted them labeled because he feared someone might mistake the contents for soup. Chaska drew a fish skull on a scrap beside the worst one. That settled the matter more effectively than Ysabet’s careful list of locations.
In the first bowl pink threads lay almost invisible against the glaze. In the second they clumped together, stirring as though alive. Suth said they were alive and asked everyone to stop looking betrayed by the discovery. The third contained water taken behind the singer. It was clear.
“Still filtering,” Ysabet said.
“Between the bursts,” Deren agreed. “Not enough.”
She checked the small fish Merla had brought in a bucket. Their gills moved rapidly in the thick bloom water. They eased when transferred to the clear sample. She did not leave them in the bad water to make the result more certain.
Chaska went down to study the launch slip with Lilt. The sandray disliked the broken pulses. She crawled onto a dry board and folded her fin edges close to her body. Chaska crouched near her head, one hand resting on the warm skin. Their silence together had a shape Ysabet could recognize even without sharing the bond.
