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were blown up from deep inside it.
    “So plain this telling that even one of your spawn could read it. You take that which is not yours, Captain Kennit, and claim it as your own. No matter how much falls into your hands, you are never sated. Those that follow you must be content with what you have cast off as gew-gaws and toys, while you take what you perceive as most valuable and keep it for yourself.” The creature's eyes darted briefly to lock with Gankis' goggling stare. “In his evaluations, you are both deceived, and both made the poorer.”
    Kennit did not care at all for the direction of this sooth-saying. “My gold has bought me the right to ask one question, has it not?” he demanded boldly.
    The Other's jaw dropped open wide—not in astonishment, but perhaps as a sort of threat. The rows of teeth were indeed impressive. Then it snapped shut. The thin lips barely stirred as it belched out its answer. “Yesss.”
    “Shall I succeed in what I aspire?”
    The Other's air sacs pulsed speculatively. “You do not wish to make your question more specific?”
    “Do the omens need me to be more specific?” Kennit asked with tolerance.
    The Other glanced down at the array of objects again: the rose, the cups, the nails, the tumblers inside the ball, the feather, the crystal spheres. “You will succeed in your heart's desire,” it said succinctly. A smile began to dawn on Kennit's face but faded as the creature continued, his tone growing more ominous. “That which you are most driven to do, you will accomplish. That task, that feat, that deed which haunts your dreams will blossom in your hands.”
    “Enough,” Kennit growled, suddenly hasty. He abandoned any thought of asking for an audience with their goddess. This was as far as he wished to press their sooth-saying. He stooped to retrieve the prizes on the sand, but the creature suddenly fanned out its long-fingered webbed hands and spread them protectively above the treasures. A drop of venom welled greenly to the tip of each digit.
    “The treasures, of course, will remain on the Treasure Beach. I will see to their placement.”
    “Why, thank you,” Kennit said, his voice melodic with sincerity. He straightened slowly, but as the creature relaxed its guard, he suddenly stepped forward, planting his foot firmly on the glass ball with the tumblers inside. It gave way with a tinkle like wind chimes. Gankis cried out as if Kennit had slain his first-born and even the Other recoiled at the wanton destructiveness. “A pity,” Kennit observed as he turned away. “But if I cannot possess it, why should anyone?”
    Wisely, he forbore a similar treatment for the rose. He suspected its delicate beauty was created from some material that would not give way to his boot's pressure. He did not wish to lose his dignity by attempting to destroy it and failing. The other objects had small value in his regard; the Other could do whatever it wished with such flotsam. He turned and strode away.
    Behind him he heard the Other hiss its wrath. It took a long breath, then intoned, “The heel that destroys that which belongs to the sea shall be claimed in turn by the sea.” Its toothy jaws shut with a snap, biting off this last prophecy. Gankis immediately moved to flank Kennit. That one would always prefer the known danger to the unknown. Half a dozen strides down the beach, Kennit halted and turned. He called back to where the Other still crouched over the treasures. “Oh, yes, there was one other omen that perhaps you might wish to consider. But methinks the ocean washed it to you, not me, and thus I left it where it was. It is well-known, I believe, that the Others have no love for cats?” Actually, their fear and awe of anything feline was almost as legendary as their ability to sooth-say. The Other did not deign to reply, but Kennit had the satisfaction of seeing its air sacs puff with alarm.
    “You'll find them up the beach. A whole litter of kits for you, with very