A cook finds supper among the flooded memorial ruins and learns where the fish shelter beneath the stone.
We caught our first Moonfen reedfin between two submerged stone benches. Reeds had rooted in the cracked paving around them, and small fish moved through the gaps beneath the seats. Our shovel crew had passed the pool twice without noticing anything worth carrying away.
I was the cook. I noticed supper.
The bank looked firm until I pressed a pole into it. A mat of roots covered a deep pocket of mud beside the nearest bench. I moved back to the gravel, kept my basket within reach, and cast along the edge of the reeds. My first two casts caught stems. The third brought up a reedfin no longer than my hand.
More followed. They gathered where the current carried scraps of food against the broken stone. Farther out, a mirror carp turned beneath the open water. I could see its broad side each time it crossed a pale slab, then lost it against the dark bottom. One of the shovel crew insisted it was the same fish circling to inspect us. We argued about that until he caught it.
The ruins make small habitats all through the Reach. Fallen slabs shelter fish from larger hunters. Roots bind the loose soil around them. A narrow opening between two blocks may carry enough water to keep a pool clear while the hollow beside it fills with silt. Pools a few paces apart can offer very different fishing.
They also offer cover to things that eat the fisher. A Mudlung Pouncer had settled beneath a leaning section of wall across from us. We saw it when it shifted its hind legs against the bank. We packed our catch and took the longer path around. Nobody wanted to test whether it preferred carp.
I made chowder from the reedfin and cut the carp into portions for supper. The bones went into a separate pot for stock. We had brought dried food for the journey, but after hours of wet work the crew ate every bowl I filled.
Later trips taught me to bring heavier line for the lantern eels and a larger wrapping cloth for crown perch. I also began packing my hooks above the salvage tools. On that first trip a bent door fitting had crushed the hook box. Straightening fishhooks beside a hungry crew is slow work, and everyone has advice.
