On day 1175, the Marcher stood across the east feeder’s valley with one foot in the stream and its head turned toward the approaching survey party.
It was neither Reed-of-Glass nor Keeps-the-Three-Runnels, the distinct body they had met at Three Wells. Nobody had given this larger Marcher a translated name. Its mineral ridges were dark red, and an old scar crossed one side of its broad face. A smaller Marcher rested behind it among the willows, almost hidden except for the movement of its back as it breathed. Kesh stopped the party at the edge of the slope and asked everyone to put down their packs.
“Is it hurt?” Basen whispered.
“I can’t tell from here.”
The larger Marcher lifted its foot from the stream and set it on the narrow track. Water ran off its skin in bright lines. Iven had seen enough deliberate movements to recognize a boundary, though he did not know whether it meant wait, leave or something more specific.
The survey party had come from Pale Reach to trace the east feeder shown on Salkin’s map. Fen wanted to know whether it carried clean water, mineral water or nothing at all before opening any connection to the old settling beds. The party was Tavin, Fen, Kesh, Basen and Iven, with Eda and her fellow local guide Olm. Sera remained at the Pale Reach clinic; Elian, who had arrived with her, stayed beside the intake records to copy the old wall plate from Fen’s earlier tracing…
