What in Jabber’s name was all that? Who’s Savage Peter?

Isaac signed as he walked.

Load of bollocks. Came here once with Lemuel on a . . . dubious errand, met Savage. Local big man. Didn’t even know for sure he was still alive! Wouldn’t remember me.

Lin was exasperated. She could not believe the Spatterkin were taken in by Isaac’s preposterous routine. But they were definitely being led towards the garudas’ tower. Maybe what she’d witnessed was more like a ritual than any real confrontation. Maybe, alternatively, Isaac had kidded and scared no one at all. Maybe they were helping him out of pity.

The makeshift hovels lapped up against the bases of the towerblocks like little waves. Lin’s and Isaac’s guide beckoned them enthusiastically and gesticulated at the four blocks positioned in a square. In the shadowy space between them a garden had been planted, with twisted trees desperately reaching for direct light. Succulents and hardy weeds burst from the scrubland. Garuda circled under the cloud-cover.

“There’s your aim, squire!” said the man proudly.

Isaac hesitated.

“How do I . . . I don’t want to just plough on up unannounced . . .” he faltered. “Uh . . . how can I attract their attention?”

The guide held out his hand. Isaac stared at him a minute, then fumbled for a shekel. The man beamed at it and put it in his pocket. Then he turned and stepped a little way back from the building’s walls, put his fingers to his mouth and whistled.

“Oy!” he yelled. “Bird-bonce! Squire wants to parley!”

The crowd that still surrounded Isaac and Lin took up the yells enthusiastically. A raucous yelling announced to the garuda above that they had visitors. A contingent of the flying shapes congregated in the air above the Spatters crowd. Then with an invisible adjustment of the wings, three of them plummeted spectacularly towards the ground.

There was a gasp and appreciative whistling.

The three garuda dropped like the dead towards the waiting crowd. Twenty feet from the ground they twitched their outstretched wings and broke their precipitous falls. They beat the air heavily, sending massive gusts of wind and dust into the faces and eyes of the humans below them as they hovered up and down, sinking a little, then rising, just out of reach.

“What you all shouting for?” screeched the garuda on the left.

“It’s fascinating,” whispered Isaac to Lin. “His voice is avian, but nothing like as difficult to understand as Yagharek . . . Ragamoll must be his native language, he’s probably never spoken anything else.”

Lin and Isaac stared at the magnificent creatures. The garuda were nude to the waist, their legs covered in thin brown pantaloons. One had black feathers and skin; the other two were dark tan. Lin gazed at those enormous wings. They stretched and beat with a massive span, at least twenty feet.

“This squire here . . .” began the guide, but Isaac interrupted him.