Free The Ale Boy's Feast by Jeffrey Overstreet Page A

infants trying to make sense of the world.
    “Jordam,” said the ale boy. “Jordam, what’s happening?”
    The beastman lifted something, then sent it skidding across the floor to the boy’s feet. It was the flask that had contained the well water from the Bel Amican bastion of Tilianpurth.
    “How …”
    Kar-balter picked up the flask and shook it. It was empty.
    “rrGood water from O-raya’s well,” said Jordam, shrugging. “Woke you up.”
    For a moment the boy had an unsteadying sensation. A flicker of memory—of being slipped back into his body as if it were an old set of clothes.
    The waking bodies reached for one another, voices faint in whispers, groans, and laughter. One had a hard case of hiccups. Jordam lit torches he had collected and gave them to those who could hold them. The ale boy felt sick. “Jordam, what have you done?”
    Jordam took hold of Nella Bye’s arrowshaft with one hand, raised a heavy knife with the other. “rrBreathe out,” he growled softly. As Nella Bye exhaled, Jordam reached around behind to where the sharp end had emerged from her back, and brought the knife down hard. The barbed end of the arrow clattered to the floor. Without hesitating, Jordam pulled hard and fast, and the arrow came out of her belly with a splash of blood. She shouted, then slumped against him, shaking. He put his hand over the wound.
    “rrPromised,” said Jordam through clenched teeth. “Promised Bel. Promised Abascar’s king. rrBring prisoners free.”
    The boy heard a squeak of disbelief, then a thump. It was Kar-balter’s turn to sprawl silent on the floor.
    “Jordam,” the ale boy gasped. “Where’s the queen? If we—”
    “rrGone,” the beastman moaned. “rrSearched everywhere.”
    Shuffling barefoot from the crowd, a man stout as a wine barrel, lumpy and bald as a toad, with an arrowshaft jutting from his neck like a flagpole from a tower, passed the ale boy. He knelt and lifted Kar-balter’s head and shoulders to wake him. The ale boy recognized him at once—Em-emyt, who had often argued with Kar-balter on Abascar’s wall.
    Kar-balter’s eyes fluttered open, and when he beheld Em-emyt’s grinning face, he leapt up. “Get away! Get away! You’re dead!”
    “Am I?” Em-emyt opened his arms, standing. “Amends. Gotta make amends.”
    “A-what?”
    “I got you arrested. ’Member, Kar-balter? Back in Abascar. I revealed your drinking to the captain. He beat you worse than you deserved. Sorry ’bout it all.”
    Kar-balter shook his head. “I saw you die.”
    “And I tell you, just after I stepped into the air, it hit me hard. Regrets. So before I slip like a butt-gust into the air again, I gotta set this straight. I don’t expect your pardon. But I’m sorry for all of it.”
    Kar-balter covered his face with his hands. Em-emyt guffawed. “Lookit you. Scared like you’re seeing a ghost.”
    “Aren’t I?”
    “I know just what you need, brother.”
    Kar-balter’s face brightened with feeble hope. “A drink?”
    “And if I had one, I’d sell it to you!” Em-emyt punched him in the shoulder.
    He remembers being dead
. The ale boy was amazed. He closed his eyes as that dizzying feeling returned. Whatever had happened to him, he was forgetting.
There’s a reason I came back. I found out something. What was it?
    Cold hands gripped his shoulders. “Rescue?” It was Nella Bye, remembering him and pulling him close. He knew her by the smell of her hair and skin. Her cheek was warm against his. “It’s so strange,” she whispered. “I was somewhere … somewhere easier.”
    All around him the murmurs were growing clearer. Rumors of boats, of Northchildren, of strange lights and a feeling of flight. He put his arms around Nella Bye. “What’s happened to us? We were somewhere else. I saw shining people. Gentle, shining people. We were telling stories.”
    “I didn’t ask to come back,” she said. “Help me. I can’t see.”
    Jordam was at her side to catch