Children of Bast Read Online Free PDF

landed on something white.
    “What is that?”
    “A kilaab bag.”
    “A what?”
    “A kilaab bag. It’s what bašar take food home in from restaurants. If they have too much, which I cannot imagine, they stuff it in one of these and take it home to feed their kilaab. Sometimes they forget to take them and the restaurant guys throw them away.” Her husky voice enchanted me.
    “Okay,” I said and jumped beside her.
    ‘Course, I didn’t know what the hell she was talking about. Kilaab bags, restaurants and restaurant guys—I was confused.
    “It’s a guess as to what’s inside,” she said, “but usually it’s food that’s okay. Let’s take a peek.”
    With that she shot out her front claws, grabbed the edge of the bag and ripped it open.
    “Fish,” she yelled. “Fish, and lots of it. Let’s go, Sydney.” She grabbed the bag in her mouth and ran.
    I followed her up over the edge of the dumpster and onto the street. She darted to the rear of the alley and scampered into an opening in the bricks just big enough for her and the bag. I scrunched in behind. She looked around before dropping the bag.
    “Sorry it’s a mess,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting company. Well, not this early, anyway.” She smiled and dropped to the floor next to her stash. “Don’t stand there, Sydney. Let’s eat.”
    She nuzzled the bag open and dropped a piece of fish in front of me. I took a bite of the strange stuff. Not soft and mushy like my captors gave us, but crispy brown on the outside, white on the inside and moist. The brown outside was definitely too salty, but the white was very tasty, and I was hungry.
    ~ ~ ~ ~
    “Yup, that’s Smokey’s fish, all right. Crisp and moist and savory.” Chubby smiled and looked at me. “I do love Smokey’s fish. I like Smokey, too. Sometimes he comes out in the alley and gives us all kinds of scraps—bits of meat, chicken bones with meat still on ‘em, and that fish. Life is good at Smokey’s.”
    “You got that right, Chubby. Let’s see, where was I?”
    “Oh, by the way, that business with Thain: she could have ripped his guts out, you know. I saw her fight. She was scary. Slapped Raeed around a couple of times, and he walked very carefully around her. Adele was a terror when she let go.”
    “How well I know, Chubby. She convinced me that day, and I vowed never to cross her.”
    “Smart vow.”
    Tuyuur Song was well on its way, and as the light increased I could see Chubby clearly. Old guy looked like he was snoozing, but I knew better. He was listening to every word I said, so I continued.
    ~ ~ ~ ~
    “Say, can I call you something besides Sydney,” Adele asked, looking at me while she washed her face.
    “Why? That’s my name.” I lied.
    “Oh, I dunno. You don’t look like a Sydney.”
    “What’s a Sydney look like?”
    “Well, Sydney sounds sort of snooty to me, like a Sydney wouldn’t choose the street over a warm house and plenty to eat. Know what I mean?”
    “No. What’s a name got to do with what an amait is? I don’t understand.”
    “Yeah, well, maybe I should drop it. It’s just stupid me trying to be stupider.”
    “No, go ahead, please. I’d like to know what’s on your mind.”
    “Okay, it’s not an amait name. You do know that every amait has a name known only to the amait? Bašar name us, but that’s not our real names.
    “My real name, given to me by my maama, is Zahra. What it means she didn’t remember, but it was her maama’s name, so I’m named after my giddaat.” I shot her a puzzled look and sat, curling my tail around my feet. “Did your maama ever call you by another name?”
    “No.” But then recalled once when Maama told us a little bit about our life a long time ago. “Actually,” I she called me Nebibi a few times and said I was named after some big, black amait that roamed the woods. I never knew what she meant.”
    “Okay, that’s probably your real name, given to you by your maama. Sydney is what your