"It has more practical value than the name suggested," Elara said.
The answer was true, which made it easier to give. Isolde inclined her head as though it had been a small courtesy, and her gaze drifted to the maps behind Elara before it returned.
"Then I am glad the name misled you."
Heat rolled off the braziers in slow waves, and somewhere behind them the burn-scarred woman was calling for the next tray of cups. Aurelian had never let a courteous silence finish on its own. He stepped between the two of them and pointed at the chart beneath Orion's hand.
"Senior Marchand, I have been studying your southern coastline. It looks like a sleeping dog, and I would like to know whether that is on purpose."
Orion looked at the chart, then at Aurelian, and to his credit did not laugh. "The dog is the tide flats. They only exist for four hours a day, so we draw them at low water, and any party that arrives at high tide finds a very different coast."
"So the dog is on purpose."
