Free Monstrous Races by K. Jewell Page A

clean it, pick it apart and stitch it back together to fit. I don’t know why you wouldn’t get a dress you know, just the one.’
    ‘I’m just not a dress sort of person,’ she said, looking down at her loose red trousers. ‘These are brilliant, really comfortable with loads of little pockets. I look good ,’ she added, already working out what she could hide in them.
    Rufus looked up at the failing light and pulled his coat tight around him. 'We’d better get back, I need to look my best for Josie this evening,’ he said, guiding her through the narrow, cobbled streets.
    ‘Oh yes, Josie. You with a gendarme. Of course. And you’re sure she’ll be there tonight?’
    ‘Of course she will. Rufus is b ack in town after all,’ he replied, gently tugging at his whiskers. 

Chapter Eight
Musical winkles curried. . .not necessarily in that order
     
    The Dog and Duck was a smoky, noisy place with wood shavings on the floor an d a wide selection of snacks. As Rufus searched for Josie, Elli stood at the bar and was just about able to see the huge rottweiler dog-head serving.
    ‘'ere Miss,’ he said peering over the top. ‘You’re a bit young to be in ‘ere on your own, aren’t you?’     
    ‘Oh no, I’ve come with Rufus, over there,’ she shouted up at him. She pointed to where  Rufus was sitting in the middle of a circle of people who mostly looked pleased to see him, although some were waving their fists and shouting. He was merrily ignoring them and was engrossed in conversation instead with a bearded man wearing an eye-patch.
    ‘Yes, I heard that old scoundrel was back. And you can tell him he never did pay off his tab, he still owes me thirty groats. Or apologise about my wife. Still, that’s all water under the bridge now. What can I get you then? Are you staying down here or going up to hear that racket?’ he asked, as the sound of various badly-tuned instruments carried downstairs.
    ‘Going up I’m afraid,’ she said unenthusiastically, perusing the selection behind him. ‘And could I have some crunchy pigs ’ ears, a honey cake and some sweetened water please?’
    ‘No problem. And let me guess. It’s all going on Rufus’ tab?’
    ‘And have one yourself,’ she answered smiling.
     
    The upstairs of the Dog and Duck was low and dark, with candles in glass orbs dotted around on tables. Billy and his family sat at the front two tables, and she could make out the back of someone she thought must be Norman the blemmyae, his shoulders shaking in time to the noise. At his table were dog-heads and humans, all about her age and moving their heads to the banging sounds she could hear. One of the dog-head girls wore dark glasses, and the human boys had grown their hair long, peering through it occasionally. An ogre sat at his own table, scratching his horns and picking the remnants of something out of his overhanging teeth.
    Elli looked for somewhere inconspicuous to sit and found a table towards the back where she sat down with her snacks. She could see that the dog-head on the stage had an upside-down harp affair, and was strumming it at least consistently. The ogre- child (assuming that’s what he was) was surrounded by small drums of various colours and textures, which he was attacking in a random pattern that seemed to be about venting frustration. At the back sat a dark-haired human boy, his eyes wide with fright, holding a long oblong shape with a series of pulleys and levers attached to it. He was playing the closest thing Elli had heard to music, and although occasionally it produced a tortuous squealing noise and he reddened, it generally sounded fairly melodic. All she could see that he was doing was p ressing down on the levers with his fingers, which looked terribly complicated and not always successful.
    From the right of the stage strode Elvis, the hair on his face fully grown and swept back. He wore a vest, shawl and a cape, all adorned with something shimmering that