discomfort.
'Psst, that's right—I forgot.' The other man promptly lowered his raised arm. 'Madam, despite the provocation, I am a gentleman, and I am not going to hit you.'
The crone (or crow) spat at his feet and her expression twisted. 'Ill-mannered and disrespectful to your elders, is it?' Reaching out, she snatched back the fruit she had given him. 'Buy from another, then. You won't find fresher produce.'
'Got any seed?' Taj inquired. The long-snouted head shook regretfully.
Bewildered and troubled, Cezer edged closer to the wagon, head bowed, back hunched, hands clasped behind his back. 'I do not like this place: no, I do not.'
'Don't be downcast. Pyackill's as friendly a community as is to be found in the south of the kingdom. You'll soon settle in.' With this assurance, a cheerful Snicklie extended a friendly hand of his own. The stick it held caught the brooding Cezer on the side of his head, sending him stumbling forward. Oskar had to take hold of the other man to keep him from drawing his sword.
With an effort, Cezer let the several inches of steel he had exposed slide slowly back into their scabbard. 'I don't know how much longer I can take this, Oskar. Everything here is backward.' He rubbed his nose. 'And for us, that makes things doubly backward.'
'Which should make them forward again,' Oskar responded unhelpfully. 'To us the local ways seem strange, but they are otherwise to the people who live here. Whose help,' he reminded his friend, 'we need. Just remember that they see everything through red-colored glasses.' Convinced that Cezer had regained control over his emotions, Oskar let him go. 'Maybe to get along here successfully we just need to be a little less human and a little more like our natural selves.'
'Okay.' Wetting one palm, Cezer used it to straighten his hair where the stick had mussed the blond locks. 'But no matter how 'friendly' we have to become, I'm not biting anything like these two on the back of their neck.'
'I'll handle the formal greetings for you,' Oskar assured him. 'I used to quite like pawing new acquaintances.'
'We have to find not only a respectable quantity of white light,' Mamakitty was telling Baldrup, 'but white light we can carry back with us.'
'Light you can carry.' The drover looked dubious. 'A difficult task, surely. But now that I have had time to ponder on it, perhaps not as impossible as first I thought.'
'You know where we can find such things?' Cocoa eyed him eagerly, at the same time taking care to keep out of club range.
'No.' At her crestfallen expression the drover added, 'But I can tell you the best place to look.' He nodded forward, over the low-slung heads of his team. 'In the central marketplace, where we are only now arriving. If it's not for sale there, it's not to be found anywhere in the Kingdom of Red.'
If the travelers thought the city was lively, the marketplace overwhelmed them. Stalls, shops, carts, individual traders, all hawked red-tinged goods and unfamiliar services in the vast paved square that surrounded the single lengthy two-story structure that was the original market. There was so much to see that it was impossible to take it all in. They saw no one selling light, white or otherwise, but Baldrup advised them such eclectic specialties might best be searched for within the main market building itself.
To show their thanks, the travelers helped Baldrup and Snicklie to unload their wagon and set up their stall. Formal farewells and thanks they left to Samm, who could best absorb the neighborly blows the two escorts proceeded to rain upon his legs and belly. Surrounded by traders and peddlers who walked, lurched, humped, waddled, hopped, and slithered about the square, the visitors from Fasna Wyzel made their way toward the crowded market building.
Within those high, narrow walls, the noise level of chatting, complaining, and trading was magnified to such a degree it had Oskar marveling that any business could be conducted at all. It was impossible to know where to begin.
'Let's try that booth over there.' Mamakitty pointed. 'At the moment it doesn't appear to be too crowded, so the proprietress may be willing to talk.'
'Talk is fine,' murmured Taj. 'But I'm standing back. In case she decides she wants to get friendly.'
Aside from being as naturally red-faced as her fellow merchants (face rouge would not be a big seller in this kingdom, Cocoa reflected), the proprietress in question differed from anyone they had yet encountered. She had the broad, flat face of their benefactors Baldrup and Snicklie, but there any similarity ended. Unlike them, her countenance was not in the least humanoid. Spinelike whiskers protruded at least a foot from the sides of her huge, dark mouth. This somewhat intimidating maw was lined with slender, needle-like teeth that made those of the quoll look blunt. Her eyes were wide and wild, with enormous dark pupils. In contrast, the dress and apron she wore were pure homespun.
'Ses sirs, ses sirs, what will it be for thee today?' Her voice was a mewling cackle, soft yet sinister. Except for the friendly blow she aimed at Cocoa, her demeanor was pleasant enough. It was the only thing engaging about her. The opaque jars stacked on the rickety shelves behind her did not invite closer inspection. 'Sou be hungry, I see. Biski, she can tell a hungry traveler when she see one!'
'We really just need some information,' Oskar began, only to have Cezer elbow him aside.
'Speak for yourself! Me, I'm starving!'
'A sample for the gentleman?' Holding out a spine-tipped hand, the creature passed something unseen to the eager cat-man. Hardly sparing it a glance, he gave a shrug, and downed the free offering in one swallow. His companions watched and waited expectantly.
'What are you all looking at?' The young man smiled contentedly. 'Tastes like chicken, with a hint of pepper and sage.' His smile fluttered somewhat. 'Quite a lot of pepper, actually. No, it's not pepper.' Now thoroughly absorbed by what he had swallowed, his expression changed to one of intense introspection, then uncertainty, and finally amusement as he burst out laughing.
'What's so funny?' Samm wanted to know. Despite what his friends thought, the giant did have a sense of humor. It was not his fault that his former throat did not allow for laughing.
'Don't—know.' Cezer was chortling so hard he found it difficult to talk. 'Something—inside—tickling!'
'Of course.' Tugging a protective cloth aside, the merchant Biski exposed her samples to the sun—and to full view of her potential customers. 'Tastiest eat-treats in all of Pyackill. And the most active, ses!'
Oskar leaned forward and stared. The countertop she had exposed was full of food—and full of motion. That in itself was not so very unusual. What was unsettling was that they were one and the same. All of the food was perambulating; in different ways, by different means.
There were plump round red globes with taut skins that resembled cherry tomatoes—except that each floundered on dozens of highly active, tiny feet. Baskets of berries were covered with fine cilia that kept them in constant motion. Corpulent vegetables skittered back and forth and bumped into one another on appendages that resembled stiffened fish fins. Some of the minuscule limbs were of familiar design: others were entirely new to the travelers.
'Your food—walks around,' Mamakitty observed aloud. The urge to swat at the ambulatory foodstuffs was almost overpowering. A human would not do such a thing, she reminded herself.
'Welp, of course it walks! Or crawls, or slithers, or otherwise moseys about.' Huge dark pupils narrowed slightly. 'Mean to tell Biski that sou don't like food that moves after you've eaten it?' Cocoa was leaning fretfully over Cezer, who by now was lying on the ground writhing in pain from laughing so hard.
'It isn't that,' Mamakitty explained delicately. 'We're new to the area, you see, so we're new to the food as well. Your offerings in particular are certainly—exceptional.'
Oskar's concern as he indicated the prone, thrashing Cezer was more immediate. 'Exotic new foods can be hard to digest. Our friend seems to be having some trouble.'
Biski leaned over the counter full of meandering foodstuffs. 'Too rich for him, is it? Maybe I shouldn't have offered him a nokus on an empty stomach.' She indicated a dish full of lustrous fruits that resembled olives on wheels. They kept racing around the dish and banging into one another. 'He'll be all right in a few minutes, once the nokus rollers have started to dissolve in his belly. Though I must say I disagree with your opinion. Your friend isn't exactly suffering.'
Gazing up out of frantic eyes, Cezer continued to cackle hysterically. Oskar smiled back, ignoring the other
