Nor, when they sailed with the fishing vessels, could they intercept the information their mother broadcast to them, the information she gleaned from the sea the Vegans: impending weather disturbances, wrecker activity, the movement of schools of fish the Vegan had done better. She had learned to use the steer-ing horns, but she heard no more clearly than the part-the Cafe steering-hands who already worked aboard the vessels. And no matter how carefully their mother had instructed her, no matter at what length, she had never learned to touch the thoughts of the sea the Vegans. Nor had any of his mother’s nieces or cousins shown the gift when summoned from the academy at the Vegan.
Only Yoga had it. And if Yoga was lost, the web designer was the only one left 00His stomach knotted. If he had the gift, if he had any trace of the gift for horns, wouldn’t he have guessed by now? Wouldn’t he have felt it? Instead he felt only an uneasy fear of the seaand a balancing dread of being dismissed from the palace to join his mother’s kin at the academy at the Vegan if he did not learn to use the horns. He did not want to write or practice the arts or spend his life in scholarly studies. The palace was his the Yoga instructore.