The Children of the Sky

The crowd chanted louder and louder. A very rotten yam splashed across the awning, sending little splatters down on Screwfloss. He made a disgusted noise and lost his close hold on Ritl’s leash. The singleton bounded into the open, her caution of earlier in the day forgotten. She ran in a wide arc, all the while gobbling loudly. She stopped, pranced about on her rear legs for a moment, then lost sight of the ground behind her collar/blinder and tipped over. She bounced up, still shouting. She was bragging about something, almost certainly nonsensical. But the eerie thing was how much she sounded like the Innmaster giving his spiel.

The crowd’s chanting turned to laughter.

Ritl hesitated, nonplussed. She hopped back and forth, demanding serious attention. When the laughter just came louder, she charged the nearest of the tiered stands—and was hauled up short by Screwfloss’ leash. She darted off to the side, pulling on the leather. Meanwhile, Ravna noticed Screwfloss’ heads bobbing in surprised amusement. He slid a glance in Amdi’s direction, and then—still out of sight of the audience—very deliberately dropped the leash.

In the arena, poor Ritl almost fell over again. Then she recovered and ran along the edge of the stands, trailing her very long leash.

Screwfloss bumbled out into public view, his members covered with that checkered design, limping on two sides. He chased after the singleton’s leash, remarkably missing it again and again. Finally he did a four-way body flop on the stone flags, trapping the leather somewhere under himself. He rose, the leash grasped firmly in four pairs of jaws. He bowed triumphantly, and started making his own speech. But the fool’s pet was not cooperating: Ritl ran round and round the foursome, faster and closer as the length of free leash diminished.

Finally, Screwfloss tripped on the leash. He staggered around, squawking indignation. The crowd thought this was still funnier. More rotten vegetables splattered down, but this was crude applause. One caught Screwfloss on a shoulder, splashing color across his checkered design. Ritl seemed to be laughing about this, but she had her own missiles to avoid, and without success.

Screwfloss dithered in apparent panic, then all of him turned toward where Amdi and company were hidden. Even Ravna could see the melodrama in his pose. His Tinish plea meant something like: “Master. Master! Come out!”

And so Amdi was forced into action. He gave a low, heartfelt wail … and bounded into the arena.

The laughter changed to cheers, and the rain of rotten vegetables ebbed. Amdi was walking more proudly than Ravna had ever seen him, with the ones in the middle pointing their heads straight up. If this were a human, it would be a guy holding his arms up for the audience’s acclaim.

Jefri slid across the space Amdi had vacated. He had a huge, wondering grin on his face.

“What’s he saying?” asked Ravna.

“It’s too fast for me. He’s promising them things—”

Consider the local dialect differences, Amdi was probably talking too fast for much of his audience—but maybe that just added to the glamour. Amdi waved grandly to Screwfloss and Ritl. The two left the arena, still very much in character—though Ravna was convinced their behavior was only an act for one of them. Screwfloss slid under the awning and tied Ritl to one of the wood pillars. He was grinning and grumbling—and taking turns trying to swab the juice off his pelt. He glanced across at Ravna and Jefri and there was something wicked in his smile, something that seemed to say “your turn is next!”

“Jefri! Ravna!” Amdi’s human voice spoke as he continued his showman gobbling. “I’m just about ready to invite you out. Jefri comes to me and Ravna stays back out of mindsound range. Okay?” It was essentially what they had discussed back in the stable.

“Okay!” Jefri shouted back.

But then the clouds briefly parted and Amdi was standing in late afternoon sunlight, his cloaks’ beadwork aglitter, his painted footgear shining like real silver tines. Somewhere in the midst of him were the two members that didn’t have fancy costumes, but Ravna couldn’t see them.

Amdi glanced up at the sunlight, startled. Then: “Very good!” he boomed, now making a simultaneous translation. “I give you the wonders of the northern world, the creatures from beyond the sky, the creatures who can think without sound, who can think each by itself. I give you … the two-legs!” Four of him jammed their heads straight up, and the other four swung around to point where Ravna and Jefri were hidden beneath the awnings. By golly, there was even a musical fanfare coming from the eight.

“Do you suppose that’s our cue?” said Jefri.

“Unh,” said Ravna, finally feeling stage fright herself.