We chose a pce in the sun for the moment, and Serru nodded towards one of those low ptforms. “Waves sometimes wash over the deck, since the ferry sits quite near the water. The barriers keep people and belongings in, not water out. I think it’s unlikely today, the ke is calm, but it could happen. Those are meant to allow those who can’t use benches to avoid a sudden cold bath. Yes, they will hold a centaur.”
I could see cervids doing exactly that, although the tabby felid actually settled herself on one across from us with her legs crossed, set the basket and bag beside her, and pulled the tiny felid around into her p. She had a bracelet too, on her right hand, this one with two rings connected to separate chains anchored at different points to the wrist-band, and each had an ornament of some kind mid-way; the metal was a very deep rose colour, the chains bright yellow, and there was a dark colour that might have been blue or bck. I honestly had no idea whether they were really into colouring metals here, or metals actually came in an astonishing array of different hues, but they seriously liked using them. I put it on my mental list of things to eventually ask about.
Warily, I stepped up onto the ptform. It hardly trembled. So, I carefully folded my legs again.
One human woman, her hair a strikingly dark blue that edged towards bck and her skin a cool soft beige, ushered half a dozen children onto the ferry. Three were felids, one was human, two were cervids. She told them to sit down until we were underway, then they could move around. The two young cervids, who were paler and more spotted than the adults, shared one of the ptforms, and the other four chose seats as close as possible, all of them talking over each other.
The felid with the baby watched them with a smile. “Css trip?” she asked the human woman escorting them, who perched on a bench near her and nodded.
“There’s a botanist from Ottermarsh visiting family who offered to talk to some of the children. We’re gathering up the ones from both sides of the ke who are the most interested in the subject. Afterwards they can all py together for a while and we have a fun meal arranged and I’ll bring them home to their parents all tired out and overflowing with pnt trivia to share. The rest are back in the schoolhouse working on the school py and a few other individual projects, and they’ll get pytime too even if it isn’t with the other school, and they’ll be getting practice in preparing and cooking their own meal.”
The tabby felid ughed. “Sounds like an excellent day for them, all around.”
The orange felid stopped by the central cabin briefly, then went to the gate. I watched them scan the area, then wait, one hand on the gate. One youngish human male darted up the ramp out of breath and dropped onto the nearest bench.
“We wouldn’t have left, once I saw you coming,” the orange felid chuckled. “No need to overdo it. Are you okay? Good. I think that’s everyone.” They flipped open a panel in the deck, pulled in the gangpnk so it rested in the space beneath, and closed the panel, leaving only ft deck with nothing to trip over. With the gate not only closed and fastened but checked that it was secure, they returned to the cabin.
Something vibrated and ground under the deck, and the ferry moved slowly away from the dock.
“How does it move?” I asked Serru.
“The windmills.” She nodded towards the one by the dock. “There’s another on the far side. Ropes run under the water, always in motion. The captain engages the gears and the ferry is simply drawn along by the rope. It’s not fast, but it’s reliable and smooth and easy. There are always two people on the ferry who can make it work, and there’s a way to signal shore if there were a truly dire emergency but as far as I know, it’s never been used. Since I’m sure you’re wondering, there is a basic medical kit in the cabin and both know how to use it, and obviously we’re not far from other help.” She handed me one of our take-out meals, and Aryennos another. “Enjoy your lunch and the view.”
Lunch had vegetables and mushrooms and some sort of grain and some kind of sprouts, all cooked in a tangy reddish sauce, in fried crispy pastry shells that were about two bites each, easy to eat without making a mess.
“Can we?” one of the felid children asked; their teacher ughed and nodded, and got up to go to the railing with them. I heard her point out a tree that was clinging to a rock and ask them what kind it was; at least three voices answered her in ragged chorus.
I’d lived my whole life on the north shore of Lake Ontario, near the spot where it met the St. Lawrence River. For a price, one could get a spot on a tour boat that would take you around the Thousand Isnds for three hours or so. I’d done it, of course. The st time, Lee and I had made a day of it, so it had been a while. I’d been meaning to take Grace.
This almost certainly cost a lot less, but in a way, I liked it better. It felt less like a bubble of reality floating around observing the world, and more like an unhurried stroll through it.
Across from us, the long-furred tabby felid unfastened the toggles down the front of her halter-top with one hand, and shifted the little felid, a darker tabby, into position to nurse, her arm cradling the kitten close. The little one tched on without hesitation, clinging to her long fur with both hands and making her wince visibly, but she leaned back against the ends of two of the benches fnking her ptform and half-closed her eyes. Not only was there no effort at modesty coverage or any sign of self-consciousness, not a single person on the ferry paid the slightest attention.
The children were getting a casual lesson from their teacher on anything from rocks to vegetation to animals, but they seemed to be genuinely paying attention. Maybe that bit about selectively choosing who to bring had something to do with it.
The shore we followed had irregur inlets, where trees grew in the water and extensive beds of cattails thrived—or something that looked like cattails, but I’d never seen them with heads that varied in colour, shading through reds and oranges and yellows to go with the deep brown I expected. Turtles sunned on, and dove off of, fallen half-submerged logs. Long-legged long-necked birds, some cobalt and ste, some cherry and pink, some amber and cream, stalked around in the shallows. I listened shamelessly to the teacher’s lesson. It all added up to a complex ecosystem, as near as I could tell, and living creatures with survival adaptations that were unfamiliar to me but made sense in context.
Part of the shore, between two of those inlets, had thinner trees, and a sandy slope down to the water.
Serru gestured. “If there are greenelk today, that’s where they’ll be.”
The orange tabby, on the way over, ughed. “I was about to point that out. Thank you for doing my job for me.” They walked away on paw-like feet, towards the other end of the ferry.
The long-furred tabby smiled. “I hope they’re here and you can see them. They’re beautiful.”
Aryennos got up and went to the railing to look. He wasn’t the only one.
“Go ahead,” Serru prompted me. “You won’t see them from here.” She looked at the tabby. “Do you need a hand up?”
The tabby just shook her head, still smiling. “I’ve seen them before, and this one just fell asleep. But thank you.”
I went with the suggestion and heaved myself to my feet. Aryennos shifted sideways to make room for me, both of his hands tight around the top railing. Just past him, the children clung to the railing, all straining to see; one small felid had to be yanked back and reprimanded by the teacher for climbing up onto the solid part of the railing and leaning outwards.
Below us, bright fish darted around, and I could see seaweed drifting down there in its own forest, some of it nearly reaching that boundary between water and air.
Under the trees on the shore were darker shadows, and it was hard to make out details.
Serru, on my other side, raised both hands to her mouth and made a low long moaning sound that climbed in pitch.
One of the shadows moved, and I saw a glimpse of something that looked like a tree branch.
Then something answered her, the same notes in the same key, but more resonant and much louder, a bugling cry that started low but didn’t stay there. More motion, and something big stepped out of the depths of the shadows.
Along the railing, I heard multiple gasps and soft murmurs and what I would swear was a squeak from one of the children.
Sunlight broken by branches fell on a rge body, a deer with a heavy shaggy-furred neck and a great rack with many points. It wasn’t brown, though. The base, as near as I could tell, was a kind of dull olive green, and it was brindled with a much darker green.
No wonder they were so rarely seen. You could look right over even something that size if you were seeing it between trees, I was sure of it.
The elk moved closer to the water’s edge and bugled again, then lowered his head for a drink from the ke.
Motion behind him, under the trees, made him snort and spin around, vanishing into the shadows.
“I don’t know why the Forest was named for them,” Serru said quietly. “There are other animals that are rare. But it’s hard not to feel fortunate when you see them.”
“Where did you learn that?” Aryennos asked.
“My grandmother, the one who taught me gathering. She grew up deep in the Forest, out where there are fewer roads.”
People began to move away from the railing; I waited, so I could be sure I wouldn’t hit anyone on my way back to my seat.
The half-dozen children all oriented on Serru instead. “That was amazing!” one of the cervids said. “How did you do that?”
“Lots of practice,” she chuckled, but she showed them how she was holding her hands, and patiently coached them through the basics while warning them that it wasn’t easy to get the right notes that made the greenelk react. Apparently they ignored ‘close’ or ‘approximate’ and responded only if it sounded right to them.
“A new way to make noise,” the teacher said, rolling her eyes, but she was smiling. “And something they can show off, and a lesson in greenelk behaviour. Thank you.”
Serru shrugged and sat down. “I have a sibling and cousins with children, and for that matter, I’m the second-oldest of seven. I don’t mind.”
The rest of the ride was less dramatic, but we were treated to a flock of bright green-and-yellow birds dive-bombing the water in the wake of the ferry to catch disturbed fish, nding fearlessly on railings and on the roof to gulp them down. The children weren’t the only ones to watch them wide-eyed.
The ferry finally docked at mirror facilities on the other side of the ke; the orange tabby felid opened the gate and set the ramp in pce, then he helped people get up and off while the taller magenta-skinned pilot helped people retrieve anything they’d stored in the racks overhead.
There was no mad rush. Passengers paused to thank one or both of the two who had managed the trip before making their way casually to the dock and then the boardwalk and dispersing from there. The teacher reminded her css to be polite, but I wasn’t sure she needed to: they said thank you without hesitation, then raced across the gangpnk on the way to their next activity of the day. I wasn’t sure it would be able to live up to that greenelk sighting, but probably they could have fun telling other kids about it.
“We’re all restocked on food and tents,” Serru said briskly. “We’ve had a meal and a rest. We should be able to cover a lot more ground today, and we’ll reach the Quincunx tomorrow.”
