The Children of the Sky

The prince gobbled something back. Amdi started translating even as the autocrat spoke. The voice he chose for the prince was smarmy and sly: “No harm intended, Circus Master. I must say, these tottering creatures can scarcely keep on their feet.” The prince’s forward members continued to circle Ravna and Jefri, but just out of arm’s reach.

Amdi puffed up, managed to look indignant despite the armed guard packs standing around them. His Tinish reply was overlaid with a Samnorsk translation: “We are honest performers, Sir. Have we not provided you with profitable entertainment?” Amdi poked a head meaningfully at the bags of loot that the prince’s fee collectors were now counting into strongbox wheelbarrows.

Prince Purity hooted softly, a chuckle that Amdi didn’t bother to recast into human mouth noise. He gobbled on. Amdi’s overlay was: “Of course. My people enjoyed every minute of it and they’ve paid handsomely. But you held my center square here for hours. No traffic could pass. We are a trading town, my circus-minded friend. We can’t ignore the damage that loss has caused to the market folk displaced.”

Amdi gave an indignant squeak, dropping out of Magnificence for an instant. Meantime, the prince rattled on. Amdi’s voice-over hurried to catch up: “You shouldn’t be surprised that there are additional fees involved here.”

“Um, perhaps we could contribute part of our agreed-upon payment to cover these expenses.”

“Good, good!” Amdi’s Purity voice got even more snotty. Somewhere under all the deadly tension, Amdi was having a good time mocking this villain. “I’m sure we can work something out. These laws after all—I make them. We will talk more on the problem tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? But milord, if you will recall, the whole point of performing tonight was to pay for supplies and be on our way before morning.”

“Oh, I’m afraid that will be impossible. You are far too valuable to simply disappear into the night.”

Amdi dithered a moment. What could he do? From under the pavilion, Ritl started squawking. It wasn’t the focused sonic mayhem of a pack, but she was screeching louder than any human could shout. She bounced out to the end of her leash, blasting imperatives. Was that support for her fellow circus members or something more like “Stop thief!” and “Seize them!”

Amdi was looking off in all directions. The commoners had moved back from the wide streets. Some of them were bumping into each other, competing for space under awnings and doorways. Heads pointed upwards, and to the south.

Amdi spread out, actually invading the space of the two guard packs. After a silent moment, a knowing smile spread across his aspect. “I showed you my letter of safe passage, my lord.”

Prince Purity emitted a dismissive noise. If he knew they were fugitives, that safe passage would count for nothing.

But Amdi continued, “I also mentioned to you that I had the protection of the Domain of Woodcarver. That nation may have seemed far away before now—but the sounds you heard over your principate just last night, that was the magic flier of Queen Woodcarver. You laughed when I mentioned our protection. You laughed when I suggested that her airship might come back to find us. Now please reconsider.” And then Amdi shut up, as if he had made some stunning, winning play.

In fact, Purity didn’t have any zippy reply. He was grinning much the same masterful smile as Amdi. He too had spread out, almost doubling his area on the ground. For a moment they looked like two frauds trying to out-bluff each other. Then Ravna noticed that both packs were looking off into the night, all in the same direction as the packs around the square. Amdi and Purity had spread out because they were listening.

Ravna and Jefri turned and looked up with the others. Full night was an hour old. The dark was starless, the cloud cover complete. Now … even to nearly deaf human ears … there was the sound of the airship’s steam engines.

Powers above, don’t let this be Nevil.

Amdi and the prince continued their proud poses, still grinning at each other. Purity’s guards were buckling up their armor; maybe they weren’t as confident as their boss.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. It sounded as close as this morning, but there was an undertone that had been missing then. “There’s two of them out there,” Amdi said in his little boy voice.

Sound became substance, looming out of the dark. The aircraft coasted toward them above the south road, descending gently into the plaza. There was plenty of room for Scrupilo’s airships to land here, but the packs on board had extended poles to push the craft sideways to the edge of the open space. Eight members—two packs—tumbled out, carrying mooring lines in their jaws. They raced around, tying the airship to Purity’s heroic statuary.