By midday the tuskers had turned into ground too wet for Lilt.
She tested it twice, sinking her broad underside into cold mud, then backed away and refused a third attempt. Chaska looked toward the family disappearing between the trunks, looked at Suth, and waited for disappointment.
“We leave them here,” Suth said. “They’ve done as much as they intended.”
She led the elk toward the pale reeds. They stood in a hollow where white stems rose almost to Ysabet’s shoulder. Small black flowers faced down into the water. At the center, a stone platform supported the remnants of a shelter: three uprights, half a roof, and a bench which had grown around the trees rather than been broken by them.
“Somebody lived here,” Chaska said.
“I did,” Suth said.
The courier turned. Suth was loosening the elk’s pack.
“Before the roof gave up. I’d like to rest. Would you find the dry path on the north side? Not far.”
