The Children of the Sky

threats and friendliness, balancing the risks with the current state of their supplies. Most places they still avoided, but eventually they performed three times, once indoors at a farmers’ meeting hall and twice in open fields under cloudy skies. The days stayed mild, with cold rains and muddy roads, but altogether more pleasant than what had gone before.

Their shows improved. Ravna’s own act was still a loser, but she had tweaked their lighting system into being a major part of the event. Even Ritl seemed to enjoy performing; she tried to upstage Amdi in more and more hilarious ways. Amdi was now completely fluent in the local dialect. His presentation had become positively polished, except that he seemed genuinely to be angered by the singleton’s antics. The high point of the show was always the petting zoo routine, and they had that worked out so well that it felt almost safe. Already, their fame had gotten ahead of them: when they tried to bypass a town, there were often packs on the side paths, begging them to stop and perform.

“These lands are just too civilized,” Jefri said one evening, after they had set up camp for the night. Moonlight trickled down through the trees, but hopefully they were out of sight of the primitive optics on the orbiter. “Once upon a time, they really were wild, too dangerous for most explorers. Now there’s trade everywhere. The arena at Winch Bottom was huge, and new.”

“And the towns are growing,” said Amdi. “They’re even bigger than what’s on Nevil’s maps.” Those maps might have been honest information for Chitiratifor, but they were already out-of-date.

“Yeah,” said Jefri. “Tycoon’s finished goods are everywhere. I’m getting sick of seeing that Pack of Packs logo. It’ll be a miracle if we get to the Domain before news of us gets back to him.”

Ravna gave a gloomy nod. “And I’ll bet Nevil is waiting ahead, probably with Eyes Above 2.”

Amdi was humming, which was often the sound of good ideas being born: “But Woodcarver will be there, too,” he said. It was almost a question. Both Jef and Amdi were getting more and more afraid for Johanna and Pilgrim. And what about Woodcarver?

Ravna thought back to that strange final conversation she’d had with Woodcarver. “I’ll bet she’s still running the Domain, Amdi. And she’s not fooled by Nevil.”

“Well then. She’ll have loyal troops looking for us all along the frontier. If we can get to her people, we can get you back to Oobii.”

“If you can get me back to Oobii, it’s show over for Nevil.” It’s what Ravna told them every night.

“Hmmm,” emitted Amdi. “So what can we do that will—”

Ritl interrupted Amdi’s thinking with a loud suggestion of her own. When it could, the creature would creep near them, quiet and innocent until she was unseemly close—and then insert herself into the conversation.

This time she got a laugh out of Jefri: “That almost makes sense, Amdi, at least if kherhogs had wings.”

Amdi was not amused. He bounced to his feet. “She’s just a damned troublemaker! Can’t you see that?” The eight flounced off into the moonlight-spattered dark.

“He’s getting even more sensitive about Ritl,” said Ravna. “I wonder whether the Magnificent Amdiranifani is really acquiring a showman’s ego.”

“I heard that!” Amdi shot back at them. “If I can’t think, I might as well do guard duty.”

Remnant Screwfloss had returned from ranging around the camp. He was over by the kherhogs, setting down fodder for them. Now one of his heads turned to follow Amdi’s departure. When he was done with the kherhogs, he settled down beneath the wagon and commented, “Ritl make him a fool.” The remnant was speaking a fair amount of Samnorsk these days, though not with the teasing sarcasm of when he’d been whole.

Ravna looked around the wagon. Normally, Screwfloss staked down the singleton on the other side of the kherhogs. It was more peaceful that way. “Hei, Screwfloss. Didn’t you have Ritl tethered?”

The pack cocked its heads, looked out from under the wagon in the opposite direction. Maybe he wasn’t going to answer. But then he said, “She get loose.”

Jefri gave a little laugh. “Ritl must be learning from your rope tricks, Ravna.”

Ravna smiled back. “She’s just a good wriggler.” Ritl had slipped loose once or twice before; no one but Amdi seemed to get very excited about it. She looked across the dimly glowing embers at Jefri. “Could Ritl be a threat? Remasritlfeer was an enemy—maybe not as bad as Chitiratifor—but still one of Tycoon’s henchpacks. Given the opportunity, won’t she betray us?”

Even in the dimness, she could see the grin on Jefri’s face. “Ah, paranoia speaks.” He scooched around the dying fire in her direction. As usual, they had set their pallets out of arm’s reach. With Amdi’s eight filling the gap between them, there were plenty of warm bodies. Besides, the last few nights had ended in the usual unpleasant arguments. Last night was the first time Ravna ever heard the Blighter fleet called a rescue party. In a way, hearing Jefri say that had been more terrifying than all the rest of this ordeal.

Jefri warmed his hands above the glowing embers. “If and when we run into Tycoon, what Ritl would do is hard to say. Old Screwfloss said Remasritlfeer was one of Tycoon’s top lieutenants. Depending on just who comes after us, it’s quite possible Ritl would betray us—though I’ll bet she’s not smart enough to do much more than shout ‘Hei, Boss, look here!’”

“Okay. I guess it is silly to worry about that here.” She watched Jefri silently for few moments. She’d known him for ten years, had watched the loving child grow up to be their best explorer—and a man who believed the most terrible lies she could imagine.

Jefri looked up at her silence. “What?” he said. There was still a smile on his face, but she could see the wariness in his eyes.

If she said one wrong word, they would slip into another night of argument. But I have to try. “Jefri, we have this terrible disagreement about the Blight and Countermeasure. You know what I think; you know the sacrifices your parents made to escape the Blight. On the other side, there’s—”

“There’s Nevil, right, a certified monster.” Jef’s agreement was angry. “But so what? I remember the High Lab. And Down Here, I saw how Countermeasure murdered Pham. Even you admit that Countermeasure raised the Slowness, and probably destroyed civilization as far as we can see the stars on a clear night. What counts is not who’s nice and who’s not, Ravna; what counts is the truth.”

“I’m not talking about being nice, Jefri! I’m talking about trustable observations. You were just a—”

“Just a young child? That’s what you said last night!”

But that’s what you were! And she would never forget how Jefri and Amdi had tried to comfort her after seeing Pham die. She hesitated, trying to think of something to say, something sensible, something that would make this go right. “Jef, have you ever thought that there might be existing facts, things to be discovered or tested, that might change your opinion?”

“You want me to put my beliefs under review? How very nice. Are you willing to do the same?”

“I—”

“Never mind. At this stage, what undiscovered evidence could there be?” Jefri turned back to the fire. He sat hunched forward, hands extended over the embers. He was silent for a long moment, then: “We’re going to get you past Tycoon and Vendacious, safely back to Oobii. Then you’ll do what you think is right. If you can’t stop Nevil, I will get rid of him myself.” His gaze returned to her face. “But you know what? There will still be a Disaster Study Group. And its new leader won’t be Bili Yngva.”

•  •  •

Ravna drowsed. The moon set and the fire’s embers cooled to darkness. She heard an occasional snarfling snore from the kherhogs, but none of Ritl’s irritating chatter. Eventually, she heard someone entering the campsite; that would be Amdi, come to wake the next sentry. The thought brought her almost fully awake. She usually took the second watch—though she was sure that neither Amdi nor Screwfloss trusted a human sentry. Some of them would be listening all through the night.

Faint and far away, she heard what might have been Ritl, but not quite as querulous as usual. Then the night exploded into hissing and squealing. Some number of creatures chased each other through the surrounding brush, fighting as they ran.

“Amdi!” shouted Jef. There was no answer, but Ravna heard somepack— Screwfloss?—scramble over the startled kherhogs and bound to the top of the circus wagon.