The Children of the Sky

Johanna climbed in among him. Outside, Wretchly latched the door and ran forward to look after the kherhogs. Jo leaned close to the open window and gave Benky a wave. He was mostly still lying on his bellies and panting from the climb. He gave her a little wave back and then staggered to his feet.

“I’ll tell Woodcarver you’re here,” he said, and stiffly walked out of Johanna’s view.

Flenser stuck a head out the window to watch Benky’s departure. The pack spoke musingly: “I can’t tell you how nervous it makes me that outsiders—Woodcarver’s top agent, for heaven’s sake—have been inside my secret tunnels. I worked so long to make those passages, and keep them out of her view. Ah, well.”

Flenser latched a quilted shutter across the window. All of him settled back as the carriage lurched into motion. Johanna heard various gobbling outside and then the sound of heavy doors being slid aside. As they rolled out of the warehouse, the interior of the carriage was lit via baffles mounted in the roof and sides. Flenser’s voice continued, but soft, “We can talk for now, but be very quiet. Vendacious trusts me about as much as Woodcarver used to. If he or Nevil finds you, there’s nothing I can do to save you. Hm. I might not even be able to save myself. Perhaps I could say you have kidnapped me.”

Johanna felt a laugh burbling up. She stifled it. “I doubt that even you could make that lie stick. Look, I got quite a briefing from Benky and Wretchly. I know about the big meeting this afternoon. You look so pretty, I figure you’re an honored guest. All I need is for you to get me to where I can jump onstage. Outside of Nevil’s inner circle, the Deniers are good kids. Most of them are my friends. In front of everyone, Nevil won’t dare kill me. I can finally say the truth.”

Flenser’s heads were bobbing in a smile. “Say your truth and not be Denied, eh?”

“Yes.”

The carriage bumped across badly-kept cobblestones. They must be near the edge of town, maybe at the edge of Murder Meadows. This might be a short trip.

“I could do what you suggest, Johanna, but there is a problem. Tycoon himself will be on that stage.”

“So he exists? Okay, but why should that be a problem?”

Flenser waved for Johanna to keep her voice down.

“You see, even if Nevil doesn’t dare act, Tycoon … well I very much fear he will tear you apart the moment he understands who you are.”

“What? Sorry.” She brought her voice down to a whisper. “Even Vendacious wouldn’t be that stupid.”

There were many voices all around them now, both the gobbling of packs and the speech of humans. Flenser raised a head the way a human might lift his hand, meaning to wait a moment on the answer. Outside, Johanna could hear somebody up above—Wretchly in the driver seats?—arguing. Something about whether kherhogs were allowed to proceed under the something-or-other. Under the stage?

The wagon turned and edged slowly up a slope. All of Flenser turned toward Johanna and his voice came soft and focused: “You’re right. Vendacious wouldn’t be that stupid.…” He paused again, listening to muttering from the top of the carriage. “You see, there’s something we didn’t know about Tycoon. He’s Scriber Jaqueramaphan’s brother.”

For a moment, Johanna couldn’t make sense of the statement; it connected such unrelated parts of her life. Scriber?… She knew he had a fission brother. Estranged. Scriber had told her the story the last night she saw him all alive. When she beat the crap out of that poor, innocent pack. She opened her mouth a couple of times. No need to worry about making sound, she couldn’t find her voice. She was just mouthing the words, “But, but…”

Flenser continued, his voice the tiniest butterfly touch on her ears, the sense of it pounding like hammers: “Honestly, I didn’t know until Tycoon was on his way here. Vendacious has worked very hard to keep me away from Tycoon. I do know that Tycoon is exactly the genius at organization we thought. He’s turned the Tropics into a magical surprise and given Vendacious the lever to overturn the world.”

Johanna remembered. Scriber had said his fission sibling was a dour business type. What had changed? And why did Tycoon want to kill her? “Why—?” she spoke the word too softly to hear her own voice.

Of course Flenser heard her—and more—he understood her real question. “Why do you think? Vendacious told him that you killed Scriber. Vendacious is at center of all this, and he’s sneakier than I was, even at my best. He has to be, because sneakiness is all he has going for him. He’s based his plan on Tycoon, and on making Tycoon hate humans, you in particular.” He sounded almost admiring.

Yeah, that was perfect Vendacious. Flenser might admire such perfection.