Page 46 - The Grotesque Children's Book

“I just thought it was me. I sweat, you know. I’m sorry. I apologize in
advance. But we’re all going to need to sweat, ragazzi, if we’re going to get
there before the sun! Faster! Faster!”

“What did I just say about the sun, Mostro?”

“That...it’s hot?

Just hold out until noon, thought Bartolomeo to himself. And then to his
astonishment, he heard from behind him Colpevole whisper very quietly such
that only Bartolomeo could hear, “we just need to hold out until noon, then I’ll
follow you back East.”

Bartolomeo blinked, and broke stride. The chariot lurched to the left a
moment. Helios snapped the whip with a crack across Bartolomeo’s back, but
he needn’t have. Bartolomeo was perfectly aware of the malequilibrium, and
athletic enough to double-flap his wings and right the stride.

“Careful there, steed!” shouted Mostro, “steady on, stead on.”

Follow me back East? thought Bartolomeo. What did Colpevole mean by
that? Bartolomeo hadn’t said a word about his plans -- literally hadn’t spoken
a word -- how could Colpevole know what he was planning? Had it been that
obvious, those nights when everyone was asleep and Bartolomeo had drifted
away from the herd, dreaming on the night stars?

Then an even quieter whisper from his rear flank. “I’ll follow you back
east as well....”

Bartolomeo turned to look behind him, to his right. It was Allevatore, a
young filly. She -- she was -- magnificent. She was at Colpevole’s flank, and
the two strode together in aerial unison, their wingtips just touching at the top
and bottom of their parabolic patterns. Upstroke, tiptouch, downstroke,
tiptouch. The underside of her wings were the same subtle luminous red as

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