A Fantasy Reader

A firework exploded and the sound sent the animals cowering in their cages and rattling the bars in a feral chorus. Lan strolled along the drearily lit dust-track underneath the arena, to check that the hybrids were not too distressed. It was freezing, and the sounds from the half empty arena seemed hollow in a way that reminded her once again of the near-pointlessness of her life in the show.

To one side, a two-headed cat growled at her meekly. Lan paused and put both her hands between the bars to rub each skull, calming the striped beast. It scratched one nose against her hand in utter contentment. She glanced aside at the rows of bars that glinted dully in the light of several cressets. How did these poor creatures feel trapped, barely witnessing sunlight, and with hardly any food?

That goes for both of us. Rations decreased every now and then; a cost-saving, Astli explained, against the dwindling revenues. Lan’s grey breeches and thick black shirt appeared rather loose on her these days. Not only because of the lack of good sustenance for the performers, but because she didn’t like to eat under the suspicious gaze of the others. How long could she keep this up for?