Perhaps the whales are being mind-controlled by a some kind of superintelligent sponge. This is the actual plot of that talking-whale classic, Cachalot by Alan Dean Foster (the book is now in redbeard’s possession, since he needed it).

Sure. (It’s kind of complicated, so I didn’t want to get into it above since I’d already written a novel.) In the “Dark Times” when the environment was extremely toxic, people lived in neo-medieval villages with limited-to-no scientific knowledge or technology. They developed this ritual around “bio-indicators,” who were people believed to have special sensitivity to toxins.

They were canaries in coal mines, basically, all dressed up as honored sacrifices: they ate and drank the local produce/water, which was supposed to tell the people whether it was safe or not.

As the environment improved, bio-indicators weren’t really needed anymore (and it’s not made clear whether they were ever actually useful), but the ritual stuck around.

(And yes, I’ve seen Whale Rider. I loved it, but at least the whales don’t actually talk.)

Um, could you clarify?

Also, re: Songs of Power: If you haven’t seen the movie Whale Rider, please go rent it immediately.

“My name is Paikea, and I come from a long line of chiefs.”

Redbeard, the whales don’t speak Old English. But they do trade in stories, and agree to spare humanity because we can tell them good stories. The noble whales seem a bit capricious to me…

No books to share, though. I’d never read any of those, since it occupies my thoughts way too much as it is.