The singleton danced back out of everyone’s reach, making sounds that seemed mocking even to Ravna.
Jefri leaned down and snatched the singleton’s leash where it lay near his feet. He gave it a wiggle, catching Ritl’s attention. The animal shot him a wide-eyed glare, then raced around Amdi, trying to trap the pack’s legs in the leash. This not being a circus act, Jefri and Amdi managed to outwit the creature, and in a few moments it was bundled—clawing and biting and squawking—up the ladder-stairs to its tie-down point atop the wagon.
“Okay then,” said Amdi, ignoring the continuing complaints. “Screwfloss was listening to the flier while Ravna was watching it. He says there were Tines aboard.”
Jefri was partway down the ladder. He stopped, considering. “He heard mindsounds?”
“No, it was too far away and humid for that. But he heard Interpack speech.”
“I didn’t hear any voices,” said Ravna. “But that’s not surprising. Did he recognize anyone? What were they saying?”
Screwfloss had been following, heads cocking back and forth. Now he answered in Samnorsk: “No sense. No words. But the sound is like two-legs can’t make.”
Ravna squatted down by the remnant. “Did you hear any humans?”
Screwfloss thought a moment. “No.” He gobbled some elaboration.
“He says that if there were any humans aboard, they didn’t say anything during the time he had good hearing, and that was at least two minutes.”
Ravna stifled an unhappy laugh. “I should have waved them down.”
“They’ll be back, Rav.”
“Maybe. Or maybe they’ll just keep searching south. Either way … I don’t see how it changes things now.
• • •
Twice that morning, Amdi and Screwfloss claimed they heard the sound of the airship. Both packs spread out from the sides of the road, trying to get a baseline on the sound. All they could be sure of was that the aircraft was far to the south.
Meantime, they had their final show to prep for. As the fog gave way to a misty rain, Jefri and Ravna climbed into the wagon and worked on the costumes and props. Screwfloss drove the kherhogs, and he and Amdi alternated riding on the top of the wagon—except that when Amdi was up there, Ritl was exiled to walk on a leash behind the carriage.
Mostly Amdi seemed to be worrying about what they’d do
Ravna smiled as she polished the lamp emitters. “Hei Amdi, if this were a tenday ago, your stage fright is all we’d be hearing about.”
Amdi’s little boy voice drifted through the open window of the cab: “Oh, I still have stage fright, but now it’s a
“No, I don’t mean what you
Jefri had look up sharply at Amdi’s words. Was he irritated? Surprised? “Just be careful, Amdi.”
• • •
As they neared their destination, they realized that a discreet reconnoiter was not possible. Even far south of the town, the farm lanes were crowded with wagons and packs.
“They say they’re here to see the two-legs perform,” Amdi reported after chatting up the strangers.
Jefri looked out from the curtains they had drawn across the cab’s windows. “This welcome is bigger than anything we’ve run into before. Somebody’s organized it.”
Ravna pushed curtain aide and leaned out. The wagon ahead of them was painted in lively colors. Beneath a rain tarp, she could see canvas bales imprinted with the ubiquitous twelve-pack logo. A little sign advertised the contents as “fine cloaks.” Two of the driver were looking back in her direction. The fellow gave out a little whoop and waved at her. She waved back. “Maybe we’re just famous. What do you think, Amdi?”
The eightsome’s voice sounded from beneath the window. “They say the local prince sent messengers out early this morning, proclaiming a special festival day, complete with ‘real mythical two-legs.’ They think it has something do with the big creature in the sky—they’ve heard the airship. Look, I should go on ahead and talk to somebody who can make us a deal.”