[b]Bapa River[/b]

Dark river water lapped gently along the hull of the acorn-shaped canoe. The oarsman stood over Affurendi, pushing and turning in his rough scabbed hands the long pole that pushed against the silty bottom of the river. The water was still here, almost as much as a pond. It flowed gently alongside them, sparkling in the evening sun. The reflection of the golden light on the water's surface was the only real indication of the river's flow and that it was not all dead.

The banks of the river rested large twisted trees, their knotted bark contorting in fractal shapes as they twined and danced into the smooth hands of the outer boughs. Massive leaves the size of dinner plates hung heavy with brown fruits and flocks of birds. Affurendi watched as the chirping and cawing finches and ravens darted in the soft shadows of the watery groves' kingdoms.

“You hear of the winds, goa?” the raftsman said in a voice held as still as the water's surface. The old satyr looked up at him, the oarsman stared off down river, his eyes still and a conversationalist's smile on his face.

“I'm afraid I haven't paid attention.” the Overroomi said, “Which is a shame.”

“T'is, goa.” his ferryman laughed, “There's a saltiness on its breath. Bantui-Moa no doubt wants us to know something is up. But I don't think her words are as clear as they could. I would speak with the shaman in Tonbo if I had the time.”

“We'll have to see if you have that.” Affurendi smiled politely.

“What about you? You have time to meet with them?” he asked.

“Oh, I doubt it.” shrugged Affurendi, his gaze turned indifferently to the trees. The dominance of the mangroves were beginning to wane as thickets gave way to grassy banks. Indifferent buffalo and rhino watched the travelers on from the far banks. “I have business that's important. I don't think I will have time.”

“That is unfortunate to hear, goa.” the ferryman sighed, “Someone told me the day before we left off that he was told they think the wind is a signal of fire. Beyond the grasslands, on the sea and beyond. He said that earlier a friend of his cousin's brother had found the remains of foreign vessels on the shore.

“Now I'm not saying I know anything about the ocean,” he added, “but I do imagine if what's left of zouma vessels are landing on our shore then something is up.”

“Well that sounds like something worth getting to the bottom of.” Affurendi said indifferently, “How much longer to Tonbo?”

“Bait a day. The last checkpoint is on the bend ahead. We'll let off for the night there.”