pain in the tail; think us Ikinchli are made for slave, you know? So we do all hard work, not get nothing for it. Lots like me, we get chance, we leave.”
“I don’t blame you.” I sighed, and shoved the portrait away.
“What’s matter?”
“Well, I’ve promised to look for this girl. Been paid.”
“So? Is good. Money is money. I hear anything, I tell you.”
“Thanks, Kittack.”
He shrugged – he does it with his whole body. “Is no problem. Strange, though.”
“What is?”
“That Gudain girl. She got yellow eyes.”
“Yeah?”
“I never seen that before. Gudain always grey eyes. Funny. Maybe means she different, not so much pain in arse like other Gudain, hah?”
“Yeah, maybe. You been getting any trouble?”
“From Gudain? No. Mostly don’t come to Scalentine. Why would they? Back home, very comfortable, tell everyone what to do. Here, maybe not so much.” He waved a foot around in the water. “Me, not so political. Live here now, not there. Some my people, very political. Meeting, meeting, talking, talking. One day we go home, throw down Gudain, all be great, you know? But is all talk.”
“I meant, from the locals.”
“Bit graffiti, is all. ‘Scaly go home,’ usual.”
Ikinchli are ‘Scaleys’ only if you’re dumb or plain rude, and only to their faces if you’re looking to lose a part of your anatomy.
“Idiots,” I said.
“True.”
“You tell the militia?”
“What’s point?” he said. “No head broken, why they care? You tell them about girl?”
“Not yet. I’m sorry, Kittack. I didn’t mean anything, you know? I didn’t know, about the stories.”
“S’okay.”
I stood up. “I got a few more people to talk to. You take care, all right?”
“You better tell Bitternut about girl. Otherwise he think you don’t love him no more.” He grinned, all teeth. “When you going to get smart?”
“Lay off, or I won’t let you in next time you come calling.”
“Then I waste away, turn into little shrivelled up lizard, you wear me for brooch.”
“Like you can’t get bouncy anywhere else. I like your new barmaid.”
He hissed a laugh. “No bouncy there. She cheek me, not know her place. Also she like girls. Also can break my arm. Too many tough women; what’s a poor guy to do?”
“You could visit the Twins, you might get a taste for it.”
He gave a theatrical shiver, his tail whipping over the stone. “Pain for fun? Not this lizard. You mammals are weird .”
TIRESANA
A S WE APPROACHED, with the lesser barges and the trade-boats scuttling out of our way, I caught my first glimpse of the great statues, hundreds of feet high. They were seated rigidly on their thrones, staring out across the desert. Hap-Canae, Meisheté, Aka-Tete, Shakanti, Rohikanta, Lohiria, Mihiria. Babaska. Eight statues, eight gods.
The statues were older than anyone remembered; they’d been made of some hard red stone that wore well, but even so, their faces were fading and blurring. Behind them, the walls stretched out to either side. “Is that Akran?” I asked. “I didn’t know it had walls.”
Hap-Canae smiled. “Oh, no, that’s not the city. That is just the temple.”
I gaped. How huge could it be?
“See how the people love their Avatars?” Hap-Canae said. “Now, it is very dusty. Here.” He whisked a scarf of fine white gauze about my head and face. “We will go in the side entrance; the precinct is sure to be crowded.”
We anchored at the jetty and I was led, shrouded like the dead, through an ancient side-gate, its thick carved wood silver with age.
I barely glimpsed the precinct before Hap-Canae ushered me inside, and up a set of stairs. All the servants were left behind.
I was slightly breathless by the time he finally paused at a window, looking down on the precinct, and I did likewise, and stood, gaping.
The walls were no deception. The Temple of All the Gods was the size of a town: the very courtyard was so huge the gods all
“I don’t blame you.” I sighed, and shoved the portrait away.
“What’s matter?”
“Well, I’ve promised to look for this girl. Been paid.”
“So? Is good. Money is money. I hear anything, I tell you.”
“Thanks, Kittack.”
He shrugged – he does it with his whole body. “Is no problem. Strange, though.”
“What is?”
“That Gudain girl. She got yellow eyes.”
“Yeah?”
“I never seen that before. Gudain always grey eyes. Funny. Maybe means she different, not so much pain in arse like other Gudain, hah?”
“Yeah, maybe. You been getting any trouble?”
“From Gudain? No. Mostly don’t come to Scalentine. Why would they? Back home, very comfortable, tell everyone what to do. Here, maybe not so much.” He waved a foot around in the water. “Me, not so political. Live here now, not there. Some my people, very political. Meeting, meeting, talking, talking. One day we go home, throw down Gudain, all be great, you know? But is all talk.”
“I meant, from the locals.”
“Bit graffiti, is all. ‘Scaly go home,’ usual.”
Ikinchli are ‘Scaleys’ only if you’re dumb or plain rude, and only to their faces if you’re looking to lose a part of your anatomy.
“Idiots,” I said.
“True.”
“You tell the militia?”
“What’s point?” he said. “No head broken, why they care? You tell them about girl?”
“Not yet. I’m sorry, Kittack. I didn’t mean anything, you know? I didn’t know, about the stories.”
“S’okay.”
I stood up. “I got a few more people to talk to. You take care, all right?”
“You better tell Bitternut about girl. Otherwise he think you don’t love him no more.” He grinned, all teeth. “When you going to get smart?”
“Lay off, or I won’t let you in next time you come calling.”
“Then I waste away, turn into little shrivelled up lizard, you wear me for brooch.”
“Like you can’t get bouncy anywhere else. I like your new barmaid.”
He hissed a laugh. “No bouncy there. She cheek me, not know her place. Also she like girls. Also can break my arm. Too many tough women; what’s a poor guy to do?”
“You could visit the Twins, you might get a taste for it.”
He gave a theatrical shiver, his tail whipping over the stone. “Pain for fun? Not this lizard. You mammals are weird .”
TIRESANA
A S WE APPROACHED, with the lesser barges and the trade-boats scuttling out of our way, I caught my first glimpse of the great statues, hundreds of feet high. They were seated rigidly on their thrones, staring out across the desert. Hap-Canae, Meisheté, Aka-Tete, Shakanti, Rohikanta, Lohiria, Mihiria. Babaska. Eight statues, eight gods.
The statues were older than anyone remembered; they’d been made of some hard red stone that wore well, but even so, their faces were fading and blurring. Behind them, the walls stretched out to either side. “Is that Akran?” I asked. “I didn’t know it had walls.”
Hap-Canae smiled. “Oh, no, that’s not the city. That is just the temple.”
I gaped. How huge could it be?
“See how the people love their Avatars?” Hap-Canae said. “Now, it is very dusty. Here.” He whisked a scarf of fine white gauze about my head and face. “We will go in the side entrance; the precinct is sure to be crowded.”
We anchored at the jetty and I was led, shrouded like the dead, through an ancient side-gate, its thick carved wood silver with age.
I barely glimpsed the precinct before Hap-Canae ushered me inside, and up a set of stairs. All the servants were left behind.
I was slightly breathless by the time he finally paused at a window, looking down on the precinct, and I did likewise, and stood, gaping.
The walls were no deception. The Temple of All the Gods was the size of a town: the very courtyard was so huge the gods all
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