Allan Cole - Wolves of the Gods

"Half boy, half demon, half fly and that's three half's rolled into one. Brought to you at … Enormous Expense!

"Palimak The Magnificent! Ta-Da!"

Then without warning he bolted out on the wire.

"Wait!" Arlain shouted, but it was too late.

In a blink of the eye Palimak was already at the midpoint of the wire while she and Kairo raced on either side of the cable trying to keep up. The boy nearly overbalanced in the center, swaying for a moment, almost looking down and losing it, but then he remembered to fix his eyes and mind on his distant goal and he kept moving, pushing through the momentary clumsiness, until he regained his balance, practically sprinting along the wire until he reached the other side.

Once again he shouted, "Ta-Da!" and made a flourishing bow to even greater cheers from his new friends.

"What'd I say?" Kairo cried. "The boy's a natural!"

"Let's go higher!" Palimak crowed, jabbing a finger at the dim heights of the circus tents. "All the way the way to the very, tip, tip top!"

"Thlow down, thweetneth," Arlain laughed. "You're going too fatht for uth."

"She's right, me boy," Kairo chuckled. "Besides, before we go any higher yer gots to learn the next most important thing about wire walkin'."

"What's that?" the boy asked.

"Yer gotta knows how to fall," Kairo said. "Because if there's one thing that's certain in this life, me boy, it's that someday, somehow, a body's gotta fall."

"The trick," Arlain added, "ith to not get killed when you do."

Gundaree bounced up and down on his chest, chanting, "Palimak's in luu-uve. Palimak's in luu-uve!"

"Shut up!" the boy snarled, pulling the pillow around his ears.

"Don't say shut up, Little Master," Gundara admonished. Then, to his twin, "Stop teasing him! It isn't nice!"

Gundaree giggled. "But it's the truth!" He wrapped his arms about himself. "Ooh! Arlain," he mocked. "I luu-uve you so much!"

At that, Palimak lost his temper. His eyes suddenly glowed demon yellow. He pointing a finger at the Favorite, who gleeped as a sharp claw emerged.

"I don't like that!" he said.

Gundaree's little demon face drooped into infinite sorrow. Even his horn seemed to sag. Big tears welled into his eyes. "I'm sorry, Little Master," he sobbed.

For a change Gundara didn't gloat over his brother's misery. From the look in the boy's eyes he thought it best not to draw attention to himself.

Gundaree sniffed, wiping his nose, and Palimak's anger dissolved. He felt ashamed of himself for frightening the Favorite.

"I'm sorry first," he said. "You were just playing. You didn't mean it and I shouldn't have gotten so mad."

The small crisis past, both Favorites brightened considerably. "Who cares?" Gundaree said. "We're back in the circus again, that's the point."

"The point indeed, lesser brother," Gundara sneered as only he could sneer-little human features elevating into high snobbery. "Instead of teasing our poor master, we should be instructing him." He turned to Palimak, face rearranging itself into something more respectful. "We learned some excellent circus tricks when we toured with your father. If I do say so myself."

"You always say so yourself, Gundara," his sibling mocked, hands on narrow hips. "And that's because you're only talking to yourself because you're so stupid no one is listening."

Gundara sighed. "I'm only glad our poor mother isn't alive to see what her son has come to."

"Don't talk about our mother!" Gundaree shouted. "You know I hatefttuh…" The rest was lost as Palimak clamped his pillow over both Favorites, shutting off the quarrel.

Palimak laughed at the muffled sounds of protest. "I should have thought of this before," he said. Then,

"You have to promise to quit arguing, or I won't let you out."

He bent an ear close and heard mumbles of what sounded like surrender. "Good," he said, lifting the pillow away to reveal two very rumpled Favorites. "Now it's my turn to talk."

Gundaree, a stickler for tidiness, brushed himself off. "That wasn't nice," he said. "Pillows have feathers.

And I hate feathers. They give me a rash."

Gundara plucked here and there, restoring a semblance of dignity. "If you wanted to speak, Little Master," he complained, "all you had to do is ask!"

"Then I'm asking," Palimak said. "You were talking about teaching me some circus tricks. And I wanted to ask, were they magical circus tricks? But you kept arguing and arguing until I thought I was going to go crazy because you wouldn't let me talk."

Gundaree shrugged. "Of course, they're magic. That's what we do, right? Magic. We're not sweaty acrobats, or jugglers, for goodness sakes."

"We do not like to perspire," Gundara sniffed. "Call it a fault, if you like, but we were made for royalty and perspiration and royalty don't go together at all."

"But you like to eat, right?" Palimak asked, rummaging around in his blankets.

Both Favorites eyed his fumbling, then licked their lips as the boy drew out a greasy sack of treats, saying they certainly did like to eat.

"Here's the deal," Palimak said, shaking the sack. Both Favorites slavered at the smell of good things wafting out. "I'll trade you a treat for every trick you teach me. All right?"

Gundaree and Gundara made enthusiastic noises of agreement and before very long they were stuffing their mouths, while stuffing Palimak's brains.

He worked them hard and he worked them late and before they were done both Favorites were fat, full and happily perspiring.

Palimak was so absorbed he didn't sense the dark figure that crept close to his tent to listen. Gundara and Gundaree noticed, but there was no danger so they didn't mention it. Especially since the figure was Safar. He stood there for nearly an hour, face a portrait of fatherly pride at the boy's newly discovered circus talents. Arlain and Kairo were right. He was a natural.

Then a light dawned in his eyes and his smile widened. The boy had just given him an idea. An idea that might solve two problems with one blow.

"Step right up, my friends," Safar shouted. "Don't be shy. Admission is free today, ladies and gentlemen.

That's right. Free!"

Dressed in the red silk shirt and white pantaloons of a circus barker, Safar was manning the ticket counter, calling out to a crowd of bemused Kyranians. Behind him the circus had been set up in the open, complete with stands surrounding a wide ring, colorful banners blowing in the breeze, and trapeze and wire walking equipment slung from high poles. Half the stands were already full of Safar's fellow villagers, who were being entertained by the clowns. The rest of the Kyranians were either filing through makeshift gates to join the others or crowding around Safar's booth. He was thoroughly enjoying himself in his old role as a ticket seller, delighting at the looks of amazement he was getting from his kinsmen. None of them, even his own family, had ever seen this side of him.

He kept up the patter. "You heard right, my friends. I said free."

Safar slapped five coins on the counter. "Not five coppers, which is our usual price."

He made a motion and the crowd gasped as one of the coins vanished. "Not four." Another motion, another disappearing coin. "Not three … not two … not even-" He held up the remaining coin-"one clipped copper." Safar flipped it into the air and to the crowd's amazement it hung there, turning over and over.

Safar gestured and there was a bang! and the coin burst into colorful bits of paper. Everyone jumped at the noise, then applauded as the paper rained down on them.

When the applause faded, Safar jumped back into verbal action. "In just one hour, friends," he shouted,

"you will see sights that have dazzled the greatest courts in Esmir. Thrills, chills, and sometimes even spills. A special performance. For Kyranians only. And all for free."