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“I assure you, we are much more intellectually advanced than your common household pet. We speak over three hundred tongues, including most from your world. We can read and write in a hundred more languages.” The beast turns away. “Now come. The others are waiting for you, Master.”
I pass through the doorway, unable to look away from my dog, who seems pretty stoked about being here. All along, Iwanted to believe he wasn’t a creature, but I always knew this day would come. I’d have to face the truth.
The three of us walk along a passage filled with narrow wooden shelves displaying dried-out specimens of small creatures. It’s like a taxidermy carnival sideshow, and I don’t know what’s more disturbing, the squirrel with a scorpion tail or the rabbit with gills and a fin.
“So Master, is that even your name?” Because it sounds like his title.
“It is whatyoushould call him,” says the beast-man.
So Master has another name, one I’m not allowed to use.
“I guess I finally know why Alwar understands you, Master. He went to school here.”
He barks.
“Alwar understands him because Alwar spent ten years learning our languages, including those used by our traveling scholars, like Master,” says the beast-man.
“So his job is to travel to my world? How many are there?”
“We have many in your world.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Because we must keep records of all the events.”
That was a vague answer.
“Is that not why you are here?” he adds.
“I want to know what the prior rulers of this world did for their inaugural addresses. I’m told this is a big deal, and given the extenuating circumstances, I want to ensure I say the right things.”
The beast-man nods. “We can arrange for a story time with the appropriate scholar.”
“Story time?” I’m not a child. “Can’t I see the records?”
“No. And I doubt you could decipher the writing anyway. We use the sacred No One script.”
I point to my torso. “You mean this?”
“Yes.”
“Is there any other written language used here?”
“We teach our students several, but the No One script is the only language used for our historical records.”
Interesting, I guess.
My fangs begin to ache, and I know I’m pushing myself too far. “I need to eat. What do you have? Preferably something I can’t murder.” I don’t want to attack anyone here, but I might, even if they all smell disgusting.
“I will show you to a room and send something to you.”
“You’re very hospitable.”
“You sound surprised,” he says.
Because I am. “I was told I wouldn’t be welcome here.”
“Anyone who can pay is welcome.”
