Keeps-the-Low-Bank gave the warning before the boat reached the clinic.
The low call came across the lower water while Iven and Tavin stood beside Low Lantern’s receiving line. Otha looked toward the inner feeding bank, then at the pale shape turning out of it.
“Wrong channel,” she said.
The approaching boat carried a white bar beneath a covered name board.
Otha’s expression hardened.
“We’re the only hull on today’s medical turn.”
A man in its bow lifted a folded sheet and shouted something about an added service. The wind took half the words. The engine kept driving toward the clinic landing instead of the broad waiting stone where an unknown boat should have stopped for the keeper.
Iven put down his tool roll.
