Many Roads Home by Ann Somerville Read Free Book Online

him ramble on. Though he was glad to make a start on his journey, the rhythm of his footsteps didn’t distract him from his gloomy thoughts the way the constant work had done back at the camp.
    “You’re very quiet, Gaelin. Maybe I’ll call you ‘silent child’ from now on.”
    Yveni stopped watching his feet and looked up at his companion. “Uh…sorry. I have a lot on my mind with my father dying.”
    “I didn’t know.” Hilario stopped and, putting his hands together, made a little bow. “Sorry. I meant no disrespect.”
    “I know. I’ve never really been alone before, that’s all.”
    “But you’re not alone. You have me.”
    “True.” How could he explain to this son of the sea and sand what he meant? How his life in the castle meant being surrounded by people, and how Gerd had eased the ache of fleeing from all he’d known. “Ignore me.”
    Hilario cocked his head. “I can’t do that. It’d be rude.”
    “Then tell me a story. I don’t want to talk just now.”
    “That I understand. Very well. Let me tell you of Fifin, the great sea fish, and the day he ate a village.”
    “A fish eating a village?”
    “It’s true. An enormous fish from the depths of the sea. Fifin came looking for food. Monstrously hungry he was. He ate the crabs, but he was still hungry. He ate all the little fishes, but he was still hungry. He ate all the big fishes, and he was still hungry. Finally, he said to himself, there’s not enough food in all the oceans for me. I’ll seek my meals on land. So he threw himself up onto the beach, and ate all the trees and all the bushes, and even the rock lizards. But he was still hungry.” Hilario glanced at Yveni. “Truly.”
    “Uh-huh.” Yveni suppressed a grin. “And then what?”
    “No good, he said. But then he saw some funny-looking round things, and they were covered with branches, so he thought, let me fill my belly with those. So he munched them all down, and all that was in them. At last he was full. He slid back into the ocean, content, and ready to sleep it off. But a sound kept annoying him. A loud, sad sound, coming from the beach. So he popped his head up, and there on the beach was a little boy, crying. ‘Child, you’re keeping me awake. Why are you crying?’ ‘Because you ate my mother and my father and my family and my clan and all our houses,’ the boy said. ‘I just wanted the branches because they looked so tasty.’ The little boy began to cry again. Well, Fifin was a hungry fish, but he wasn’t a bad fish, so he swam up onto the beach, and burped. Up came the trees and the bushes and the lizards. He burped again. Now the houses, and the branches on the roofs and inside the houses the little boy’s family was safe and so were all his clan. The boy was happy and his mother and father were happy. But Fifin was not. ‘Now I’m hungry again,’ he complained. The boy said, ‘Give him the branches!’ So the clan pulled all the branches off their roofs and fed them to Fifin, and he was happy. And now every year, our village throws the old branches from our roofs into the sea for Fifin to eat, and now we know he won’t come on the land again because he’s got plenty of food. And I swear by the god of the sky and earth every word of that is true.”
    Yveni stared at Hilario’s innocent expression. “Every word?”
    Hilario put his hand over his heart and bowed. “Of course.”
    “This word ‘true’—it has another meaning in Uemi?”
    “Of course.”
    Hilario laughed. Yveni couldn’t resist his cheeky grin. “You’re crazy.”
    “Everyone says that. Come on, we have far to go before nightfall.”
    They did and by the time Hilario called a halt about an hour from sunset, Yveni could barely move. He’d never walked so far in his life, and his poor feet had blistered badly, though his shoes were stout and comfortable.
    Hilario, barefoot as he’d probably been all his life, stared at the blisters in dismay. “You should take off those