Ga—” He never finished the word—at least not within his brother’s hearing.
Suald was reading his own writing when a wind threw him off-balance. He slipped on the cobblestones, caught his foot against something in the dark, and sprawled upon a row of metal dishes. He crushed eggs and pomegranates, figs and relishes, sweet breads and popovers. His elbow flipped a creamer, splattering him with goat’s milk.
Covered in the food he’d requested, he started to laugh. He couldn’t help himself; it was all too ridiculously glorious.
From one of the buildings bordering the courtyard, someone shouted, “Shut up, yer drunken swine!” which only caused Suald to laugh even harder.
The wind whipped up again. Dust sprayed him. Loose grapes rolled past him.
The wind’s screech became a shout—a whoop of unrestrained pleasure—and there stood Baloyd, his hair pushed out behind him like a sheaf of reeds. For an instant he was still, and then he began jumping up and down. “Suald! I did it. I’ve been to Nourey Gate and back again!”
Suald pushed himself up onto his knees and took stock of the damage to his clothes. “Of course you have,” he replied.
“No, really. In seconds. I don’t even know what streets I took. They whizzed by so fast, all a blur until I got to the gate. I thought my clothes would catch fire. Then I said, ‘I want to go back,’ and it started all over again.” The shoes practically glowed. He saw the food laid out upon the ground, squatted down, and picked a deviled egg that had survived the maelstrom. He popped it into his mouth whole. “Oh, this is good,” he said with a full mouth. “Have you tried one?”
Suald cocked an eyebrow. “Several, thanks to you.” He wiped the smeared food off his shirt. It should have been a joke—it had been until Baloyd returned, and he couldn’t say just why he found his brother’s beaming presence so galling. “So you ran the length of Kakotara.”
“I did. And you ordered breakfast. We got what we asked for. The gods gave us just what we wanted.”
“I shall try to remember to thank them later.” He licked jelly from the back of his hand.
“Oh, come on, you can’t be angry! Not now!”
“I happen to be covered in food.”
“Well, then, ask for a bath. Ask for clean clothes. You can, don’t you see? You can have anything!”
A shutter banged open above them and a burly fellow in a sleeping gown leaned out and bellowed, “I told you bastards to shut up, and I meant it! If you don’t, I’ll come down there and hammer you into the stones.”
Baloyd leapt back. “Oh, you think so, do you? What will you do if I come up there”—he stood suddenly behind the man; taking him by the shoulders he whispered—“and push you out.” The terrified fellow flew from his window and slammed into the stones beside Suald. Baloyd was there just as swiftly.
The man howled in pain. He clutched his head and rolled back and forth. Blood oozed from his nose and mouth.
Baloyd took his brother’s arm. “Maybe you should clean up somewhere else,” he suggested.
Suald looked at his brother as if seeing him for the first time. “No,” he said, and took out the clay tablet. With his thumb he smoothed his previous request.
“That’s right, you can fix him, can’t you?”
“You’re damned right I can.” Suald carved letters with the stylus then lowered the tablet and admired his handiwork.
There beside the fountain a huge wharf rat lay trembling and bloody, dying atop a torn nightshirt. Suald grinned.
Baloyd’s brow knitted, and he gave his brother a worried glance. “That wasn’t what I meant.”
“No?” smirked Suald. “Well, it was what I meant. What’s one rat more or less in the world?”
Somewhere in the darkness above, a woman called out, “Harky? Harky, where’ve you gone?”
Suald took his brother by the elbow and dragged him out the gate and away.
Thus began the reign of the two brothers on Kakotara. They did not keep their gifts secret for long. Suald performed a few tricks for his wife, Seru, conjuring whatever she named by writing the words on the tablet. She asked for jewels, then necklaces and bracelets. She asked for fantastic, legendary birds that would impress his mother, and they appeared as well. If she didn’t like what came, Suald found that he could send the thing away as easily. As their house filled with squawking and cooing, as a rain of droppings began to decorate everything, he