Black Halo

silk and dirty feathers that came out and regarded the companions with its yellow stare, for, truly, Lenk really had no idea what the hell King Togu was.

Superficially, at least, it resembled an Owauku: stout, green, with a belly as round as his massive, gourdlike eyes. But this one sported a pair of long, fleshy whiskers that hung so far from his blunt snout as to dangle about his stubby feet.

Still, the silk robe he wore open, so that it formed a purple frame to the bright jewel he wore in his belly, suggested something that had been digging in a nobleman’s trash. The feathered headdress he wore about his prodigious skull and the nauseating blend of flowers, vines, feathers and leathers he wore as decoration … well, Lenk really had no explanation for that.

Quietly, the creature surveyed them, his eyes swivelling from Lenk to Kataria, then fixating one on Kataria while the other rolled with uncomfortable slowness to stare at Lenk. Eyes split apart, his face soon followed suit as a large, yellow-toothed smile neatly bisected the green visage into two equal segments of scaly flesh.

‘Cousins,’ King Togu spoke in a voice earth-deep and flower-sweet, ‘be welcome.’

‘Uh … thanks,’ Lenk replied. Possibly not the best greeting in the presence of reptilian royalty, he thought, but he found that the creature’s presence robbed him of coherent thought for anything more elegant. ‘I’m …’ He searched for a word and settled, reluctantly. ‘Glad? Glad that you’ve given us your time today.’

‘Glad? Glad?’ Both yellow eyes swivelled to regard Lenk incredulously. ‘Merely glad?’ He whirled upon Bagagame, face twisted into a frown. ‘Merely glad. Why not great? Why not fantastic? Why not in need of a drink, so viciously does the excitement inspired by Teji’s majesty seep out of their mouths?’

‘I don’t know!’ Bagagame offered, shrugging helplessly. ‘Maybe they came to complain? The sun don’t shine that brightly these days and maybe-’

‘The sun always shines on Teji!’ Togu drove his point home at the end of a stubby backhand against the shorter Owauku’s cheek. ‘You are the one that diminishes our great reputation! Look!’ He smacked his subject again, sending one eye spinning towards Lenk. ‘A giant bug is sitting on his head! Is this how we will be remembered?’

‘Oh, right,’ Lenk said, suddenly feeling the dragonfly as it, suddenly frightened by the noise, scurried down onto his face. He reached up to brush it away. ‘It’s really no-’

‘Sorry! Sorry! M’fix that right up now!’ Bagagame came bounding over, eyes fixated on the sapphire-coloured insect.

‘It’s not necessary!’ Lenk’s hand moved away from the bug and out in a futile attempt to stop the Owauku as his lips slowly parted. ‘No! No, don’t-’

His words were lost in the subsequent squishing sound and he blinked dumbly, unable to find any others. He didn’t feel this was at all inappropriate; it was, after all, quite difficult to form the proper thoughts to express one’s feelings at feeling the thick, sticky end of a lizardman’s three-foot-long tongue plastered to one’s cheek. Even as Bagagame drew it back, winged prize twitching as he yanked it into his grinning mouth, he was at a loss.

He remained in that dumbstruck silence for a moment, blinking through the veil of saliva dribbling down his eyelid as he slowly, calmly licked his lips.

‘Right,’ he said, ‘so, anyway, we’re leaving.’

‘Leaving.’ Togu levelled a scowl at Bagagame. ‘Leaving. Why leaving?’

‘I don’t-’

The king made a sweeping gesture back to the portal he had emerged from. ‘Go and get the coals.’

Bagagame offered a bob of his head, scurrying off to the shadows and leaving the larger Owauku to sigh and stalk toward his throne, keeping one large eye upon the companions. Lenk watched him with some befuddlement; he wasn’t quite sure how he expected the king to take the news, but he wasn’t anticipating such calmness.

Then again, he wasn’t sure he had ever actually anticipated having to explain anything to a feathered lizardman.

‘Naturally, I’m a bit curious,’ Togu said. ‘Have we not done all we could to establish our hospitality?’

The quality of the king’s speech should likely have provided some comfortable familiarity, Lenk thought. Contrasted against the other Owauku, it merely made him seem all the more peculiar.

‘Well, yes,’ Lenk replied, ‘but surely, you must have known we’d have to leave sometime.’

‘Of course.’

The king deftly leapt onto the armrest of his throne, nearly slipping from the wax before sliding up to perch on the velvet-lined back. His position, combined with his feathers, lent him an avian appearance that was only made more ominous as he reached down with a foot to slide the cloak off the stout figure seated in the throne. A truly massive waterpipe was revealed, seated smugly on the red velvet as Togu reached down to pluck up the hose and bring it to his scaly lips.

‘I suppose I was hoping that, against better judgement, you would linger for a while. It has been nice to have humans about in the village again.’

‘And your hospitality has been …’ Don’t say ‘horrifying’. ‘-lovely,’ Lenk said. ‘But we’ve got other places to be.’

‘And there is nothing I can say to convince you otherwise, I’m assuming, or you would not have come to me.’

A great yellow eye swivelled to the portal, regarding Bagagame sourly as the smaller Owauku came teetering out with a tiny censer full of smouldering coals. He quickly applied them to the waterpipe, the rich scent of flavoured tobacco filling the air almost instantly as the water burbled inside its vase. Togu drew in a breath that lasted for ages, his chest inflating to a size preposterous for a creature his size. When he did speak again, his words came out on a cloud of smoke that made him resemble some great, fire-breathing beast.

‘Which does make old Togu wonder why you have come.’

Bagagame cringed at even the brief, dismissive wave Togu offered him and quickly ran, bowing apologies to both of the companions as he scurried between them and out the door. Lenk watched him go only until he was exactly three and a half feet out of earshot then turned back to Togu.

‘Well, as you may have noticed, we aren’t in much shape to be getting anywhere,’ he explained. ‘We had been expecting a …’ Don’t say ‘hired peon.’ ‘-friend to come retrieve us, but we haven’t seen any sign of a black ship lately.’

‘Have you?’ Kataria chimed in.

Togu coughed slightly, apparently choking on a stray ash that had crept its way into his hose. He shook his head, thumping his chest gently.

‘Not as such, no,’ he said. He appeared to furrow his scaly ridges in thought, Lenk thought, but that might just be some other emotion too deep for eyes the size of grapefruits to convey. ‘No … no … the Gonwa would have spoken of such a boat.’

‘Ah, well, that seems-’

‘Lies.’

A cold ache crept through him, a frosty hand wringing his spine for a moment before releasing it. He shook his head, as he might shake snow from his hair.

‘Discouraging,’ Lenk finished, his voice degenerating into a mutter. ‘I suppose it might have been helpful if the Gonwa had actually told us first, though.’

‘They are … a complex people,’ Togu replied, scratching his chin. ‘They come from Komga, an island with too many trees, not enough sun and, as such, they lack our “sunny” disposition.’ He grinned at his own joke. ‘They must be more than a little irritated at having moved here, anyway, but Teji will grow on them.’

‘And why did they move here, exactly?’ Kataria asked, drawing a glance from Lenk.

That does seem important … Should … shouldn’t I have asked that?

‘Why would you?’

That’s usually my thing.

‘Worrying? Let someone else do it.’

Togu’s eyes rotated to regard her carefully. ‘Feel free to ask them.’

She accepted the retort with what would appear, to anyone else, as a cool silence. Lenk, however, could see the faint tremble of her upper lip, the minuscule twitch of her eyelid, and a tiny, distinct quiver of her ears.