The Wings of Ashtaroth

Prologue: Children: Section IV: Aurelius

Aurelius: Qemassen: The Palace

"Her name is Adarabaal. It means Abaal's fire." Aurelius held the wooden tiger up for Uta to see. The Vetnu slave smiled back at him, bending down to touch the toy. At least it had distracted her from fixing his hair and facepaint for the festival.

He scratched at his face while she wasn't looking. The guard in the corner—Bado, he thought the guard was called—gave Aurelius a sly wink. Aurelius grinned back.

It was odd that Aurelius's father had sent a guard, but Aurelius had run away last time he was due for his lessons with Samelqo, so maybe that was why.

"She's only got three legs," said Uta, and Aurelius turned his attention back to her.

He frowned, staring at the clean break in the wood, wriggling on his stool. "That was Hima's fault, but Dashel knows someone who can mend her. A glue maker in the city. She's from the lands beyond Ajwata, where the trees are bigger and she can sleep in them all the time and eat leaves and monkeys."

"The glue maker?"

Uta could be so stupid sometimes. Aurelius shook his head, frowning regally as he explained it so Uta would understand. "No. Adara. Glue makers don't eat monkeys."

"They probably don't eat leaves, either."

Although he'd seen people eat all kinds of leaves before, Aurelius decided he wouldn't upset Uta by making her feel inferior. Anyway, maybe she was right. He'd never actually seen a glue maker eat anything; in fact, he'd never seen a glue maker at all. It was the kind of thing he'd find out about when he was king and could start exploring. There were a lot of things and places he wanted to explore. He should make a list so he didn't forget. Dashel had told him about a waterfall not far outside the city, and there were those orchards where his mother's slaves had seen goats climbing in trees.

Uta knelt down in front of Aurelius, deftly unlacing his dusty sandals while reaching for another, fancier pair. Jade faces peered up at him, framed in gold. The shoes were heavy, and Aurelius made a face back at them.

"How am I going to run in these?"

Uta stood, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. She was so jittery tonight. Maybe it was because of the guard. Maybe his sword was making her nervous. "They're not meant for running, little prince. They're for the festival tonight."

Aurelius frowned thoughtfully. He liked the festivals where people wore masks the best, the ones with fire-blowers and animals from other places. They hadn't had one of those in a long time. "Will there be food?"

"I expect so."

"What about animals? Will there be a tiger like Adara?"

"Who can say?" Uta smiled at him, but it was pinched. "If there is, I don't think it will have three legs."

That was good. It would be sad for a tiger to have three legs. Probably. He'd only seen one once, and she'd been a kitten a trader had carted all the way to Qemassen from a distant land. "I'm going to ride a tiger when I'm king. I'm going to name her after Adara and she'll be red, and stripey, and run on the sand. I may want one with wings. I'm scared of falling off right now, but I won't be when I'm bigger. Himalit says you can't be king if you're afraid of things like falling. Do you think there are tigers that can fly?"

Uta's lip was trembling like she might cry, and Aurelius stopped talking. She looked like Mother did sometimes, when she sat alone in the dark in her room, quiet and sad and staring at her dresses. Aurelius didn't like it when his mother looked that way. It frightened him. Nothing he tried ever seemed to make her better, but maybe Uta was different.