good clue. He’d been right beside her, organizing the frantic exodus as she cast the gate spell. He’d been at her side for the last six years.
Some thought they’d been captured by the soldiers, but Makenna didn’t believe it. Cogswhallop was more than a match for Lazur and all his men—even Daroo was. No, Cogswhallop was safe in the Realm—no doubt working to rejoin her, just as she was trying to figure out how to open a gate to reach him.
But in the meanwhile, Tobin was doing a pretty good job of taking his place.
Makenna had assigned Miggy as her second-in-command. He was slowly growing comfortable in the role when things were peaceful, but he wasn’t happy about it when trouble broke out. And that was when Tobin took up the slack.
A small, petty part of her resented a human stepping into Cogswhallop’s shoes…but the rest of her was deeply grateful that he did it so well.
“Harcu,” she said, “if the rock here’s not right, then you’ll either have to make do or get good rock somewhere else, because those foundations need to go in. You’re doing a fine job. I don’t want you stopping now. As for the rest of you”—she glared at all of them, impartially—“one reason we settled here was because we didn’t want a lot of marsh nearby. Food is a priority.”
The Greeners smirked.
“Food won’t do you much good,” one of the Makers snapped, “if you don’t have baskets to store it in. What are you going to do when all that grain you’re planting is ready to harvest? Put it in your pockets? We—”
“We need baskets too,” Makenna agreed. “And willows can’t be grown in a minute. So like it or not, you’re all going to share that marsh. The Greeners will plant as near to the willows as they can without disturbing them, but they’ll leave paths through their root beds so the Makers can harvest the willows. And the Makers will stay on those paths! That way…”
CHAPTER 4
Jeriah
“S EE THESE ROOTS ?” H IS FATHER held out a young cornstalk, roots attached. “White and firm, like they should be. Last year we had too much water in this field and lost half the crop. The first sign of the problem was in the roots. You can’t just pay attention to the part of the plant you can see—you have to…”
Jeriah’s father had been going on like that all morning. He yawned.
“Am I boring you, Jeriah?”
His mouth snapped shut. “No, sir. It’s just…I’m sorry, I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
His father’s lips tightened, deepening the lines around his mouth. “ I’m sorry, son. I shouldn’t have…I didn’t get much sleep either.” He knelt to replant the corn sprout, hiding his face.
The speed with which his father had set about training his new heir would have hurt, if his grief for Tobin hadn’t showed so clearly. Jeriah’s father had always consideredhim…not incompetent, not really. Just lightweight. Not to be taken seriously. Unreliable, compared to his sensible older brother. Since Jeriah didn’t want the estate, that suited him fine. But until Tobin came back he was stuck with it, so he might as well do his best.
“Um, why did you let so much water into this field? I thought old Woder measured inflow to the last drop.” He gestured at the gate in the low dike that held back the river. His great-great-grandfather had married a woman from the wetlands and built the dikes and gates, creating acres of fertile land in what used to be the river’s flood plain.
“We were trying to water this field with a ditch from the next gate down. We still are, in fact, and judging by these roots we’re doing better this year. Come with me and I’ll show you why. This is something you should know about.”
His father strode off toward the nearest sluice gate and Jeriah followed, slipping in the muddy furrows.
“Look at the wood of this gate, Jeriah. What do you see?”
“Well…” He examined it, fishing for an answer. “It’s damp. It’s…Wait a minute.
Some thought they’d been captured by the soldiers, but Makenna didn’t believe it. Cogswhallop was more than a match for Lazur and all his men—even Daroo was. No, Cogswhallop was safe in the Realm—no doubt working to rejoin her, just as she was trying to figure out how to open a gate to reach him.
But in the meanwhile, Tobin was doing a pretty good job of taking his place.
Makenna had assigned Miggy as her second-in-command. He was slowly growing comfortable in the role when things were peaceful, but he wasn’t happy about it when trouble broke out. And that was when Tobin took up the slack.
A small, petty part of her resented a human stepping into Cogswhallop’s shoes…but the rest of her was deeply grateful that he did it so well.
“Harcu,” she said, “if the rock here’s not right, then you’ll either have to make do or get good rock somewhere else, because those foundations need to go in. You’re doing a fine job. I don’t want you stopping now. As for the rest of you”—she glared at all of them, impartially—“one reason we settled here was because we didn’t want a lot of marsh nearby. Food is a priority.”
The Greeners smirked.
“Food won’t do you much good,” one of the Makers snapped, “if you don’t have baskets to store it in. What are you going to do when all that grain you’re planting is ready to harvest? Put it in your pockets? We—”
“We need baskets too,” Makenna agreed. “And willows can’t be grown in a minute. So like it or not, you’re all going to share that marsh. The Greeners will plant as near to the willows as they can without disturbing them, but they’ll leave paths through their root beds so the Makers can harvest the willows. And the Makers will stay on those paths! That way…”
CHAPTER 4
Jeriah
“S EE THESE ROOTS ?” H IS FATHER held out a young cornstalk, roots attached. “White and firm, like they should be. Last year we had too much water in this field and lost half the crop. The first sign of the problem was in the roots. You can’t just pay attention to the part of the plant you can see—you have to…”
Jeriah’s father had been going on like that all morning. He yawned.
“Am I boring you, Jeriah?”
His mouth snapped shut. “No, sir. It’s just…I’m sorry, I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
His father’s lips tightened, deepening the lines around his mouth. “ I’m sorry, son. I shouldn’t have…I didn’t get much sleep either.” He knelt to replant the corn sprout, hiding his face.
The speed with which his father had set about training his new heir would have hurt, if his grief for Tobin hadn’t showed so clearly. Jeriah’s father had always consideredhim…not incompetent, not really. Just lightweight. Not to be taken seriously. Unreliable, compared to his sensible older brother. Since Jeriah didn’t want the estate, that suited him fine. But until Tobin came back he was stuck with it, so he might as well do his best.
“Um, why did you let so much water into this field? I thought old Woder measured inflow to the last drop.” He gestured at the gate in the low dike that held back the river. His great-great-grandfather had married a woman from the wetlands and built the dikes and gates, creating acres of fertile land in what used to be the river’s flood plain.
“We were trying to water this field with a ditch from the next gate down. We still are, in fact, and judging by these roots we’re doing better this year. Come with me and I’ll show you why. This is something you should know about.”
His father strode off toward the nearest sluice gate and Jeriah followed, slipping in the muddy furrows.
“Look at the wood of this gate, Jeriah. What do you see?”
“Well…” He examined it, fishing for an answer. “It’s damp. It’s…Wait a minute.
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