The countryside was strangely similar.

They drove for hours while Xaxac stared out the window, and all he really saw was the same thing. There was the road they traveled, made of cobblestone, a few feet of grass, and then a tall stone wall. Every so often there would be a marker in the wall, a change from one plantation’s property to the other, but that was it.

Those walls had been built by human people, and when they were damaged, they were repaired by human people. They were beautiful, built not of bricks all uniform and unchanging, but of natural rock stacked one on top of the other and sealed with so little mortar it was invisible. They reminded Xac of the house he had grown up in, made from scrap wood. Humans were good at making beauty and strength from next to nothing.

“You’re so cute,” Agalon said, again. He had said this many times during the trip, and in response, Xac smiled and giggled.

“I just ain’t never seen it before,” Xac explained, “The world is so big.”

“Whole damn Agricultural District looks the same,” Agalon shrugged, folded down a page in his book and gazed out the window himself, “Ain’t nothin out here for miles. You gettin hungry? I’m gettin hungry. Lee’s gotta stop soon. You wanna eat in here or have a picnic by the side of the road?”

“I don’t know,” Xac said.

“You look bouncy,” Agalon said, “Look like you wanna stretch your legs.”

“I feel a lot better!” Xaxac agreed, “I thought I’d be tired, on account of I didn’t sleep none, but I feel alright.”

“I put some frost in your coffee,” Agalon explained, “It give ya energy. Took some myself, too. We’ll crash hard tonight. Lorry’s gonna be the death of me. But I ain’t gonna give up on that boy. Come here, Honey Bunny.”

Xac hopped up and into Agalon’s lap, which was apparently not what he had meant because the action seemed to startle him. But Xac wrapped his arms around his neck and snuggled into his chest, so Agalon tossed the book to the side and wrapped his arms around him.

“I’m so glad you still love me,” Xac said, very quietly and after some time had passed.

“Of course I still love you,” Agalon said dismissively, “The hell are you talkin about?”

“After I bit you,” Xac said, “I was… scared. I can’t help it. I would never hurt you. There’s somethin wrong with me.”

“It ain’t gonna happen again,” Agalon squeezed him tight, “You’re alright.”

The carriage jostled to a stop and a few seconds later there came a knock at the door.

“Come in,” Agalon said.

“Master,” Lee said as he opened the door, “Judgin by the sun it’s pert near noon. You wanna stop a spell and let the horses have a rest?”

“Yeah, wouldn’t hurt my feelins nary bit,” Agalon gently pushed Xaxac from his lap then stood and hopped out the door, “I gotta piss like a racehorse.”

“What’s a racehorse?” Xac asked as he followed him into the oppressive midday heat.

“It’s exactly what it sounds like,” Lee said as if he thought it was a particularly stupid question. He made his way to the back of the carriage and opened the box that was sticking out there, pulled out two feedbags and went about the business of attaching them to the horses.

“Ok,” Xac huffed. Lee was just mad because he was sleepy.

“Let’s set out a blanket and eat on the grass,” Agalon suggested, moving to the little storage box himself. He pulled out a quilted blanket, fluffed it out, and laid it on the grass by the side of the road.

“The food’s pretty slim pickin’s,” he said, “Dunno what Abby’s packed. It’s hard to make stuff that’ll keep. Probably won’t have nothin but raw plants and cornbread.” He dug around in the box and eventually came up with a basket, “Huh. Nope. I’ll be damned if she didn’t make a bunch of little cakes and fritters and whatnot.” He pulled out a bottle of wine and went to plop himself down on the blanket. Xac sat beside him.

“When I was in the army,” Agalon said, “We’d march for days, sail for months. Half the time we had to eat shit like pemmican. Sure taught me not to bitch about food. Livin on pemmican and hardtack takes all the bitchin outta you.”

“I reckon that could go two ways, Master,” Lee said as he took his seat, “There are some folks what can complain about anything.”

“You reckon Xac can eat these fritters?” Agalon asked.

Xac turned his hopeful gaze to Lee.

“I reckon if it ain’t meat Abby wouldn’t make somethin he can’t eat,” Lee said, “She loves that boy.”

“Everybody loves Xaxac,” Agalon smiled as he handed Xac one of the fritters.

It smelled so good, and felt flakey in his hands. He could taste the sweet sugar glaze before he bit into it, because it was more than a food, it was a memory. These apple fritters were one of the foods his mother used to sneak out of the house, back when he was small and still lived with his parents, before Agalon found him.

It tasted exactly the same.

Agalon seemed content to drink straight from the bottle, so when he passed it to Xac he followed his lead and passed it to Lee. This seemed to perplex Lee, but he wasn’t a man to look fortune in the face so he shrugged his shoulders and took a large swig.

“I gotta put Billy in the first round so he’ll qualify,” Agalon said as he took back the bottle.

“Feel bad for whoever goes against him,” Lee said, “That boy’s strong as an ox.”

“I’m thinkin about breedin him,” Agalon said, “I’m gonna enter him at Satra if his dumb ass can make it that far.”

“What’s that mean?” Xac asked.

“He might die in the cage,” Agalon said, “He’s got good genes. I’d like to have another one. Might go out and look over the field hands; they tend to have more stamina than the girls in the house.”

Oh.

Right.

Agalon thought humans were animals. Breed him like one would breed a particularly strong horse. Xaxac had forgotten that was an option.

“What kind of animals are humans?” He asked.

“You’re a ‘great ape’ darlin,” Agalon said as if he was recalling a fact from a biology text, “Like the sasquatch or gorilla. I think your closest relative is a chimpanzee, but them live on the fire continent and I don’t think I’ve ever seen one. I hear they’re little bitty things. You apes are strong as hell, but the rest of them sonsabitches can’t be tamed. Y’all are a hell of a lot smarter. I don’t even reckon most of um can talk. They ain’t got no sense.”

“We’re the smartest?” Xac had asked this as a question, but not because he questioned it. He just didn’t really know how it made him feel to be a particularly intelligent animal. Part of him was proud to have outdone his cousins, to be considered the most intelligent of the apes. Another part of him thought that Agalon looked an awful lot like some of the humans who worked for him.

“The other apes ain’t worth havin, Xac,” Lee explained, “A sasquatch got into the winter storehouse one year tore it all to hell. I don’t know how she got that far outta the woods. Worst thing I ever smelled, didn’t speak a word of common, looked like she crawled out a cave. I’d be embarrassed to be seen with them. We’re bonafide, civilized. Be proud to be human. It could be worse.”

“I remember that,” Agalon agreed, “I don’t know how she got that far in, either. I had to take her down myself. It was like fighting a bear, except the meat and fur are useless.”

“Ain’t worth havin,” Lee agreed.

“Elves ain’t animals?” Xac asked.

“No, darlin, elves was created by the great god Thesis, in his image,” Agalon said, “We’re supposed to take care of all the critters on Xren. That’s why it kills me to take one down what I can’t eat. You ought not ever kill somethin you ain’t gonna use.”

Xaxac’s first instinct was to ask why Agalon owned human fighters who sometimes ‘died in the cage’. But he suppressed it. Look pretty. Smile. Do as little as possible. Tell them ‘alright’. Tell them ‘ok’. Just be good and do everything that they say.

“Welp,” Lee wiped his hands on the blanket and stood, “I best go check on them horses. I’ll be ready to leave whenever you are, Master.”