Forever the Road (A Rucksack Universe Fantasy Novel) Read Online Free PDF

was certain it winked at him.
    The driver spat at it. “Bloody cows.”
    “Aren’t they holy?” Jay replied.
    “Cows give us many gifts,” the driver said. “Milk and butter to nourish us, dung for our fires. We do not eat them and we do not hurt them, but it doesn’t mean we like them.”
    “Since they think they own the road?”
    The driver laughed. “Yes, my good friend. I like how you say that.” One foot on the gas and one hand on the bleating horn, the driver swerved, zipped, and putted. The rickshaw swerved in and slipped out of every scant space not possibly big enough for it, yet somehow there was always just enough room.
    Jay stared at the river as they traveled farther into the city. Had this water come down from the Himalayas at the same time that he had? As the rickshaw zipped in and out of meandering livestock, bell-ringing bicycles, grumbling trucks, and horn-tooting taxis, a breeze passed over Jay. It wasn’t particularly cool, but it felt good on his skin. If his clothes couldn’t dry out in the soggy hot air, at least they didn’t feel as sticky. And the drive was certainly not boring. Jay let go of the rickshaw supports and sat back in his seat.
    The river disappeared behind some buildings. Jay’s backpack sat quietly on the floorboards between his knees, and he rested his hand on top of it. As they passed the white walls of the city center, the close buildings reflected the light and trapped the heat. The weight of gods and ages pressed on Jay, compressing humanity and humidity in a slow boil.
    Out of the corner of Jay’s eye, in front of a copy-machine-and-long-distance-calls shop, a blue humanlike figure sat proud and smiling on a cow. Dressed in gold, the figure was maybe male, maybe female, but it definitely had four arms and held some sort of staff. It winked.
    Jay’s head snapped to the right to look more closely, but only the cow remained.
    He’d barely seen it, but since of course there was no way it could have been there to begin with, he hadn’t seen it anyway.
    I’m so tired and dehydrated, Jay thought. I’m starting to hallucinate. That’s all. Jay swallowed dust. I need a beer. Even a Deep’s Special Lager would be good enough for right now, though I wouldn’t really call that beer. I’ve drunk more flavorful water and passed tastier piss.
    The rickshaw squealed to a stop. Jay folded forward. Five years of traveling clamped his hand to the top of the pack so it didn’t tumble out of the rickshaw. The driver stomped the brakes and cut the engine. Jay tried to ignore the shr-shr-shr , but the outline of the thing pressed into his hand.
    Hundreds of people banged instruments, sang songs, and paraded down the cross street in front of them. Jay couldn’t understand the words, but he understood the feeling—a hope for tomorrow, a wish for the next life, a joy in spite of today. The singing cooled him like water, like a spring night back home. He sighed. For a moment, his addled weariness faded. The shr-shr-shr seemed louder.
    Another flash of blue turned his head. So did flashes of gold, brown, white, and red.
    Cows flanked the rickshaw. Taxis, bicycles, and large trucks all stopped at the edge of the procession. When Jay looked directly at any of the motionless cattle, he saw only cows. When looking from the far edge of his peripheral vision, though, Jay thought he saw more figures, multi-armed and gold-adorned, aiming inscrutable smiles at the parade. But whenever he turned to look directly, he saw only cows.
    Jay tapped the driver’s shoulder. “What is the parade for?”
    “For the gods, my good friend.”
    “Which one?”
    The driver shrugged. “All sing to all, and all listen, and all praise.”
    Jay wished he didn’t suck so badly at languages. Other than a rough French bonjour , the only other language Jay knew was the “I’m not dangerous” smile, the “where’s the nearest toilet?” anguished leg scrunch with side-to-side wiggle, and the cupped