“Pull it closer,” Zhekak ordered in a thin voice, the fat muffling the motions of its limbs. “It does not look too dangerous.”

“This is still a young one. The mature ones are gigantic.”

“Interesting. Let me see its dentition.”

While Kerrick was still puzzling out the meaning of the new phrase, Stallan seized him by the head and pried his jaws open, dragging him forward so Zhekak could see into his mouth. Zhekak was intrigued by the sight.

“Very similar to the preserved specimens that Vanalpè has. There is much to study here, much of interest. I see the day when Alpèasak will lead all of the other cities in their knowledge of ustuzou and their uses.”

Vaintè was radiating pleasure. “There is something else about this creature that you should know. It talks.”

Zhekak fell back expressing disbelief, wonder, incredulity and respect, her gross body writhing with the effort of saying this all at the same time.

“Demonstrate,” Vaintè ordered.

Stallan tugged Kerrick closer and Enge stood to one side where he could see her. “Speak your name to those of great rank before you,” she said.

“I am Kerrick, lowest of the low.”

Zhekak was overly generous in her appreciation. “A wonderful bit of training. I have never seen a beast that could speak its name before.”

“There is more to it than that,” Enge said with respectful addition — not correction. “It can talk just as though it were Yilanè. You may converse with it if you so wish.”

Zhekak’s delight, incredulity, and disbelief were very great. When she was finished she leaned forward and spoke very slowly and very clearly.

“I find this hard to believe. You cannot really talk.”

“I can. I can speak very fast and very clearly.”

“You’ve been trained to say that.”

“No. I learned as a fargi learns.”

“In the ocean?”

“No. I cannot swim. I learned to speak by listening to Enge.”

Zhekak did not look towards Enge and her speech was full of contempt. “That is very good. Kind words spoken of one who caused so much difficulty in distant lovely Inegban*. It is only fitting that a crude beast like this speaks well of a Daughter of Death.” She turned to Vaintè. “You are to be congratulated in that you have made something out of nothing, a city out of jungle, a speaker out of an ustuzou, a teacher out of a deathless one. Surely the future of Alpèasak will be always warm.”

Vaintè dismissed Enge and Kerrick with a gesture as she spoke to Zhekak. “I will remember those words always. A new world means new things and we are doing our best. And now — will you take meat? We have some new varieties here that you would never have tasted.”

Zhekak clacked her jaw in loud appreciation. “That is what I was told and that is what I intend to discover for myself.”

Fat murgu, eat and explode. Those were Kerrick’s thoughts, but no hint of this was reflected in his submissive stance.

“Return it to its place,” Vaintè said, dismissing them as well. Stallan tugged on the leash and pulled Kerrick along behind her. Kerrick stumbled, almost fell, but made no complaint. They left the great open space and returned to the green tunnels of the city. Enge turned into a different tunnel and Kerrick glanced carefully around. When there were very few others in sight, none of them close by, Kerrick called out in pain.

“Help me. Such pain. This thing on my neck… I’m choking.”

Stallan turned about and cuffed Kerrick on the side of the head for disturbing her. But she knew that they wanted this animal kept alive. The leash would have to be loosened. She dropped the free end and reached for the animal’s head.

Kerrick turned and ran, scarcely hearing the roar of rage that bellowed after him.

Run, boy, run, fast as your legs can carry you, faster than any murgu. There were two of them ahead, uncomprehending fargi.

“Move aside!” he ordered — and they did!

Stupid, stupid creatures. The leash was flapping over his shoulder and he raised his hands and gathered it up so it wouldn’t impede him. As he ran through one of the open spaces he glanced over his shoulder and saw that Stallan was far behind him. He was right, these creatures could not run.

He slowed a bit then, ran easier, ran free. He could run this way all day. The breath came strongly to his lungs, his feet slammed down on the matting as he fled for his life.

He could not be stopped, When he saw groups of murgu ahead he took a different way. The fargi moved aside when he ordered them to. One marag did not move, tried to grab at him instead, but he dodged the clumsy effort and ran on. When he found himself alone at last in a leaf-shrouded chamber he paused for breath — and to plan.

The city was all around him yet. The sun filtered down through the leaves and he blinked up at it. Late afternoon, the sea would be behind him, the land ahead in the direction of the setting sun. That was where he must go.

City blended into fields without any sharp distinction. He trotted briskly now, running only when he was noticed. The first difficulty to be overcome was a thick hedge filled with long thorns. His heart leapt. If he were found here he was trapped. He ran swiftly along it, searching for an opening, aware that two of the murgu had seen him and were calling after him. Yes, there it was, stout vines that looped back and forth across the gap. There must be a way of opening them, but he did not bother to search for it. Instead he dropped flat and wriggled under the lowest strand. A herd of small deer looked at him, then fled in panic through the tall grass. He followed them, kept straight on when they veered aside at the next fence. Now that he knew what to look for the vine-covered opening was easy to see. This time when he dropped flat to slide under it, he looked back and he saw that a group of murgu were at the far side of the field, just starting to open the last gate that he had slipped under. They would never catch him now!

Then he came to the final field. It had to be the last because the high green wall of the jungle was just beyond. He had already passed small bits of jungle, but these had been surrounded by the fences and fields. The jungle beyond this fence was unending, dark and frightening. But whatever dangers it held were nothing compared to those of the city he was leaving behind. He slipped under the vines into the field and stood up — and saw the great creatures that were looking at him.

Fear seized him and shook him savagely so he could not move. Big they were, bigger than mammoths, murgu from his worst nightmare. Gray, wrinkled, with legs like tree trunks, great shields of bones rising up and up, horns on their noses pointing directly at him. Kerrick’s heart beat so loudly in his chest that he thought it would burst.

Only then did he notice they were not moving towards him. Tiny eyes in wrinkled sockets stared down and scarcely saw him. The ponderous heads lowered and the sharp jaws tore at the grass. Slowly, a step at a time, he walked around them, towards the partly grown fence that was still filled with large gaps that opened out onto the dark of the forest.

Free! He had escaped! He brushed some hanging vines aside and stepped onto the cool loam of the jungle floor. Brushed the sticking vines aside, and once again.

Then he discovered that they had adhered to his arms, were slowly tightening themselves about him.

They weren’t vines at all but living traps. He tore at them, tried to bite them, but to no avail. He had been close, so very close. As he spun about in their cool embrace he saw the murgu coming after him through the field. So close.

He turned again to the forest, hanging limply, fighting no longer, scarcely able to react when the two-thumbed hands seized him cruelly. Looking up at the trees and freedom. At the flash of movement of some animal there.

The leaves above parted for an instant and he saw a bearded face. It was gone as quickly as it had come. Then he was being dragged back into captivity.