“Me, sir?” “You may as well go with them,” said the Cormorant. “They already have your name.” He sounded annoyed. “You will take them past the kelp beds to the Underwater Forest, then through the Sea Desert and beyond to the Festival. Deliver this message to whoever has been crowned king of the sea this storm.” He put his webbed-fingered hand on Coreon’s forehead. The sea-Lirin boy closed his eyes, as if listening, then nodded. The Cormorant picked up one of the knapsacks and handed it to him, then tossed the other two at Char and Ven. “You will find dried kelp and the un-salt water humans drink in there,” he said. “There should be enough to get you safely to the Festival. After that, you will have to provide for yourselves.” “What about Amariel?” Char asked. “A merrow is more than able to find food and drink in the sea. To laden her with provisions would make her clumsy, endanger her. You may take the weapons—she does not need one of those, either. Her weapons are part of her.”
