Of course, say no more. Hoping for a donation, a family introduces Natasha to the body of their eldest son, Nichelah — a young man of twenty summer, and a fine fisherman: hearty, in fine form, healthy but for the weakness of his heart, which claimed him. The embalmers paid by Yancai's elder council have done a stupendous job of preserving and refreshing his body for the rite.

The family is a little hesitant to send the body at sea, as young men (and some women) similar to Nichelah have often had their casket-ships disappear completely. They were all young, strong, their bodies in good condition, and strong and fit in their lives: good for fishing, or cutting wood, or a fight. Kindly, the embalmers have put a tracking spell in his casket to hopefully trace his remains down, if they are abducted. Wish them luck.

The greatest regret of Nichelah's mother is that she never got to see him a groom. He had finally conceded to a betrothal, after pining for years for a woman who briefly visited Yancai's outskirts two years ago.