Although, having thought that, maybe being by himself would not be a good idea either. There were things living in Avina that he had no interest in coming upon by accident. Once, while following Devoth through a long hallway, past doors that opened onto different gymnasium chambers, he had seen a creature that made him stop abruptly. It had caught his eye because of its size, which was like that of no other creature he had ever seen. Like one of the foulthings, perhaps, but he had never set eyes on one of those.

This thing stood to the height of three or four men; and even that was not an accurate measurement, for it squatted on long, bent legs. It was winged as well—large, black, jointed wings, membranous and foul, awkwardly held out as it waddled. It looked like some sort of bat, made gigantic. It was furred on the chest and around its long-jawed, canine face. Horrible, and somehow made more so by the sight of an Auldek high on its back, fastened there in a harness. The creature leaped about at the Auldek’s direction, its wings aiding it. The Auldek held a spear in one hand and had several more quivered beside him.

“Nice, huh? That’s a kwedeir,” Devoth had said, having stepped back to see what Rialus was gaping at. “You don’t want to go in there. It’s near feeding time.”

As Devoth said this, Rialus noticed a slave being led in and then pushed against his will toward the creature. “You don’t mean it’s going to—”

“Eat that man? Yes, I do. Strange, the way they eat. They like to stalk their food. Even when it’s presented to them, they stalk it, and then leap and bite it around its head and then pause. Every time they do the same. They pause and listen as the unfortunate one screams. And then they bite down and rip the head off while the body still flails about beneath. Do you want to watch?”

His eyes seemed inclined to do just that, but Rialus snapped up a hand to block the view. “By the Giver, no!”

Devoth rumbled out his mirth, but he nudged Rialus to get him moving down the corridor. A few steps farther on and a high-pitched scream cut through the air, an anguished cry of terror. Devoth did not so much as flinch. He did, however, grunt and say, “We use them to catch runaways. Good sport.”

On reaching Devoth’s estate, his escorts put Rialus in the care of the household servants and then turned away without a word. And what then? Was he rushed right in to an audience with his magnificence? Hardly. Instead, as he expected, he was told to wait in the inner courtyard. It was a beautiful enough space, partially open to the air, with pillars of marble that supported trellises thick with flowering vines. A pool in the floor gurgled, home to eel-like fish that cocked their heads and followed Rialus’s every move. It would have been a pleasant enough area to wait in, if there had been something to sit on. What kind of waiting area did not provide a place to sit?