Between Worlds by Skip Brittenham

Author:Skip Brittenham
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
Published: 2016-08-12T11:38:26+00:00

CHAPTER 29

IGNORING HIS NEW SLAVES, Monga signaled to Urrn that it was time to leave the clearing.

“Uuth,” Urrn said to his pet, tugging sharply on its leather leash. The creature ambled happily after him, this planet’s version of a faithful sheepdog.

Marshall was glad to leave the dead Sleviccs behind. Their bodies had become puddles of putrid yellow gore pooled around piles of bones. Marshall and Mayberry picked their way around the remains, but Monga had no such compunction, freely crunching and cracking Slevicc bones with his hooves as he moved toward the river trail.

“Soon dair,” he grunted.

“I hope there’s food where we stop,” Mayberry mumbled at Marshall. “I keep thinking I’m going to black out.”

“Just hang on,” Marshall said as he stumbled wearily along the path. “He wants to use us—he’s not going to starve us to death.”

After a short, steep climb, they reached a grassy knoll that overlooked the river flowing twenty feet below them. Marshall heard the familiar thunder of the rapids echoing up the steep stone cliffs.

Once they’d stopped, Urrn untied the packages that the creature carried on its back. Marshall was amazed at the sheer volume of stuff the beast was able to haul. Urrn pulled tent poles and a waxed woven cloth off the mound that was now piled on the ground. They helped Urrn put up Monga’s outsized cloth tent. He used crude hand signals to direct Mayberry and Marshall during the setup. The tent’s faded brown weave was covered with multicolored patterns that mirrored the curlicues on his belt pouches. Occasionally, as they pitched the rest of the camp, Urrn drew his own patterns in the air and flicked his fingers, using magic to speed up the process.

While all this frenetic activity was going on, Monga leaned his right haunch casually against a large boulder. After watching them scramble for a while, he withdrew a packet of crushed leaves from his leather pouch and stuffed them into a curved clay pipe. He lit the leaves with a flick of his finger, then began inhaling the smoke through his mouth and exhaling it through his ears. Finally, he nodded to indicate that the camp was pitched to his satisfaction, and ambled into his tent.

Urrn spread blankets made from woven strips of furry yellow hide onto the ground outside of their new overlord’s tent. Even though it was still daytime, Mayberry and Marshall collapsed onto the hides, lying next to each other in an awkward heap.

Urrn dug into a soft brown animal-bladder sack and withdrew a gray, gooey-looking ball. He ripped off a piece with his thumb and forefinger, tossed it into his mouth, and began to chew.

Mayberry’s and Marshall’s bodies went rigid. They both bolted up. Food.

He took two more dough balls from the sack and handed them to the newcomers. Marshall’s was green, Mayberry’s orange. Urrn used his back molars to chomp into his ball, chewing just a few times before swallowing.

“Good,” he grunted.

Mayberry was startled and looked over at Marshall, who raised his eyebrows in wonder.

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