Free The Thief Queen's Daughter by Elizabeth Haydon Page B

they were moving, their silver forked tongues darting. Fish swam in round glass bowls, glittering metallically when the light hit them. Turtles with shells that looked like they were formed of marble lazed in the morning sun. A flying squirrel leapt from side to side in its small cage. A white-coated raccoon with a silver mask and black claws appeared to be making a chain out of yarn with its claws. And in the back of the kiosk, a brown bear with an elongated snout and strangely human paws was sweeping up under the cages with a broom, a chain shackled around its ankle.
    The smallest of the cages held soft, furry creatures with glossy coats, tiny claws, and large eyes and ears. Their fur was striped silver and black. They were sleeping, curled up together.
    In another larger cage was an odd-looking bird. It had a large curved beak and skinny legs that ended in large feet. It seemed to Ven that its torso was, like the bear’s paws, almost human except for being small and covered in red feathers.
    In still another cage was a tiny animal that looked like a puffy monkey. The misery in its eyes was unmistakable.
    To his left Ven heard a choking sound. He turned quickly and saw Saeli moving closer to the cages, a look of horror on her face.
     

     
    Within the booth behind the cages was a tall, thin man in a soft-sided top hat with a ratty brim. The man’s similarly ratty hair stuck out from beneath it. His eyes were black and twinkling; his arms and legs seemed to go on forever. He reminded Ven of a spider.
    On his shoulder sat an enormous black bird with a blue tint to its feathers. It eyed them suspiciously.
    As Saeli approached, the man stood up, stretched out his long limbs, and rubbed his gloved hands together.
    “Well, good morning, mates,” he said brightly. “Lookin’ for anything special?”
    “Not today, thank you,” said Clem, taking Saeli gently by the shoulders and pulling her back. The small Gwadd girl continue to stare sadly back over her shoulder as they headed down the street. The man touched the brim of his cap, smiled, and returned to the depths of his kiosk.
    They walked through the town square, past the circles of booths to the street where the permanent buildings stood, the sidewalks in the air above them. Here there were shops, rather than tents, that shared a long common porch, and each had a pretty wooden sign out front telling what was sold within.
    They passed a spice merchant’s shop with burlap sacks spilling out onto the porch, filled with fat vanilla beans and pungent peppercorns and all sorts of good-smelling herbs. Beyond that was an apothecary where tonics were being sold, a shop with nothing but fudge for sale, and a tailor who was talking to a woman in a nearby shop full of bolts of beautiful silk.
    Clem stopped at a table in front of the fabric shop. “Look at this gorgeous satin,” she said, running her hand over a sheet of shiny black cloth. “It reminds me of the night sky—you can almost see the stars shining in it.”
    “Look harder,” said the woman in the shop. “You can see them.”
    The children squinted. The silky folds of the fabric gleamed, then twinkled with a million tiny sparkling lights. When they looked again, it had returned to black.
    “Come on,” Ven said insistently to Clemency, who blinked, then turned quickly away from the table.
    “What do you suppose that means?” Nick asked as they came to a large sign hanging over a shop at the corner of first street. It read
     
    ARMS OF COATES
     
    “That’s odd,” Ven agreed. “I’ve heard of coats of arms—it’s like a family crest or symbol. The Polyphemes have one. But Arms of Coates?”
    “Why don’t we go in and see?” Char suggested. “I wouldn’t mind being inside about now. All these people millin’ around are making me skittish.”
    “Good idea,” said Clemency. She climbed the wooden steps up to the store and held the door open for the others.
    As they stepped inside they froze in