ROCCO'S WINGS

Chapter 4 - The Bathouse

Having crossed the breadth of the stone yard Rocco and his guards entered a lush grove of very large trees. Some had full moon heads, others were shaped gracefully like ostrich eggs.

They came into the bright sun. Rocco could see the wall again. He'd have to get over it or under it, or through a door, window or other opening, maybe even a crack. The city was wide at the cusp of the cliffs, at least a thousand metres. It looked even deeper the other way, heading toward the mountain which loomed tall in the distance.

On the right, tidy rows of rich-looking buildings lined the streets. Each was clad in the same polished rock with a brightly coloured door, above which hung a thickly carved gold-coloured lantern. Only the wealthiest merchants in Gogogamesh could afford such lavish adornments. Everything at home had been made by his mother, or given as gifts by the villagers who traded goods when they couldn't afford the regular kinds of payment.

They passed along several pathways and short-cropped fields of grass. The pace slowed as they entered a breezeway – an open walkway attached to a row of buildings, covered by a roof.

'Well,' said Stinky Breath, stopping at a blue door. 'You'd better getcleaned up, mudrock."

Rocco quickly ducked inside. He didn't need their glaring eyes on him. He was immediately engulfed in the sound of lapping water. A large pool filled with rising steam sat in the middle of the room. Urvogels were sitting around the edge of the pool as well as other smaller pools, deeper into the room.

A row of high windows – holes, really – were cut into the top of the wall near the ceiling. In the corner at the far end, urvogels were flapping their wings, shedding water. A red robe, wingless like the ones at the palace, waited patiently at the side, holding drying cloths.

'Minionatro!' An urvogel waved from his seat by the wall.

A red robe carrying a tray of silver cups hurried over. Other red robes were folding clothes on a long table at the end opposite the water shedding area. Above the table hung a sign: 'Minionatros' Corner'.

Rocco removed his tunic and leggings and quickly slid into the empty end of the large centre pool. It took some effort to sink, but once his wings were wet, he managed it, holding his breath. He was invisible. They couldn't stare if they couldn't see him.

Bobbing up for a breath, he rolled on his back, staying submerged except for his face. He was covered in cuts and scrapes. The water stung, but it was exceedingly warm and cosy.

He reached over and pinched the fleshy part of his upper arm. Krakatoan was rich, probably full of dazzling sights. He had to stay focused on the only thing that mattered – getting out.

Closing his eyes to slits he listened to the hollow sounds around him: urvogels talking quietly at the end of the pool; minionatros' feet shuffling across the marble floor; and wings beating in the water shedding area.

'It's not fair,' said a woeful voice.

Rocco opened his eyes. Three urvogels were staring at him. Reaching upwith his foot, Rocco gently pushed himself away. As he came to the deep end, Stinky Breath appeared, scowling and pointing at the door.

His wings were so thoroughly soaked that it was all he could do to lift himself out of the water. He teetered on the side of the pool and waited for the cool air to clear his head. He walked over to the water shedding area and began to flap.

An ancient-looking minionatro handed him a drying cloth and motioned that he should follow. With the cloth tucked around his waist, Rocco followed past Minionatros' Corner and into a room so small it was little more than a cupboard.