You’d already decided, you were just trying to make it easy for Mom and me. Want to know how I knew?”
“Because you saw me take the oath. So did everyone else, I imagine.” Promises meant very little to Sinew, as I had reason to know; but I supposed that he understood how seriously I take mine.
“You know I’ve read your book?”
I told him I knew he said he had.
“When you and Mom were coming here, you were only doing it because Silk had told you to. But when he didn’t go, you went anyway. I remembered that, and as soon as I did, I knew you were really leaving.”
“This isn’t the same thing at all.”
“Yes, it is. You were supposed to come here because some god wanted it, that boss god in the Long Sun Whorl. The old Proloctor and that witchy lady want you to bring him here, and that’s really it, not the maize or even needlers. You’re just the same here as you were up there, just exactly like Mom is.”
I shook my head. “The principal thing is to find Silk and get him to govern New Viron, assuming that he’s still alive. The maize, and the kinds of skills necessary to make glasses and needlers, as well as many other things, are very important, though not central. As for bringing Great Pas, no one so much as mentioned it. If anyone had, he would have been laughed at. It would be much more sensible to talk about bringing back Lake Limna.”
“But that’s what it comes down to.” Still grinning, Sinew stepped closer, so close I could feel his breath on my face. “Silk got made a part of this Pas, didn’t he? That girlfriend of Pas’s invited him to.”
“I don’t know that, and neither do you.”
“Well, he went off with the flying man and wouldn’t let you tag along. That’s what you and Mom said.”
I shrugged. “That’s what we wrote, because it was all we knew. I don’t know anything more now than I did when we wrote it.”
“Of course he did! You know he did. Who wouldn’t? So if you bring him, we’ll have a boss who’s the partner of this very powerful god up there. You say you couldn’t bring a god back, and naturally you couldn’t. But if this god Pas really is a god he could come here anytime or go anyplace else.”
I said nothing.
“You know I’m right. Are you taking the sloop? We’ll have to build another one if you do. The old boat never was big enough.”
“Yes,” I said.
“See, you’re going. I knew you were. What are you going to say at breakfast? Raise your hands?”
I sighed, having only a moment before definitely deciding to take the sloop. “I had intended to ask each of you individually what I ought to do, beginning with Hide and ending with your mother. I hoped that all of you would have concluded by that time that I must go as I promised, as I have, no matter how badly I’m needed here.” I turned away with a feeling of relief, and resumed my walk along the Tail.
He loped beside me like an ill-bred dog. “What if she said you had to stay?”
“She wouldn’t, and I was hoping that none of you would. But if any of you did, I was going to explain myself again to that person and try to persuade him. I say ‘him’ because it would surely be Hide or Hoof or you. Not Nettle.”
I saw his pleasure by starlight. “I like it. Mom can go live with Aunt Hop. Me and the sprats can take care of things here.”
“Your mother will stay right here to take care of things, including you. You’ll have to run the mill and make any repairs. She’ll handle most of the buying and selling, I imagine, if you and she are wise.”
For a moment I thought that he would object violently, but he did not.
“You know the machinery and the process,” I told him, “or at least you’ve had ample opportunity to learn them. The bleach we’ve got should last you six months or more, if you’re careful, and I hope to be back before then. Don’t waste it. Be careful about extending credit, too, and doubly careful about refusing to extend it. Never buy a log
Douglas Preston, Lincoln Child