The Door into Shadow by Diane Duane

glancing occasionally over to his left, where a hundredweight boulder was floating, pacing him as he rode.
    “ Look at them. Look at them! They’ll never manage a juggling act with people watching them! Dusty, I love them, but they can’t juggle air!”
    “ They’ll do all right. They’re just out of practice. After all, it’s been years since they juggled for a living.”
    “ Yes, but—”
    “ Lorn, they’ll do all right! So will you, and so will Moris and Dritt and the rest. Most of the entertainers on the road are only mediocre anyway. And it’s not as if gleemen’s immunity depended on whether we’re good or not. No one’s going to suspect anything. This is the middle of nowhere.”
    “ I don’t know…”
    (Hah!) Sunspark said suddenly from beneath Herewiss. (For one lousy penny I’m supposed to cut off my legs?)
    The remark was directed at Segnbora, She tried to put her head under her wing in token of mild exasperation, and was nearly as exasperated to find she couldn’t. “The punch line usually comes at the end of the joke,” Segnbora said.
    (Oh. Well, there’s this beggar—)
    “ That one won’t work now. We know the ending. Try another.”
    (All right.) Sunspark’s expression became one of intense concentration, an interesting one for a horse.
    Segnbora shook her head, bemused. While she’d been busy with Hasai, Dritt had one day made the mistake of trying to make friends with Sunspark by telling it a joke. Since then it had decided that joking was a vital part of human experience, and had been demanding everyone to teach it the art, on pain of burning them when Herewiss wasn’t looking. As soon as she was in the saddle again, Sunspark had accosted Segnbora. In no mood for joking, she had suggested that it tell her jokes, and thus learn by doing. She’d had no peace since.
    (Try this. So there are these two women, they go into an inn and the innkeeper comes to their table, and one of the women says, ‘Bring us the best red wine you have, and be sure the cups are clean!’ So the innkeeper goes off, and comes back with a tray, and says, ‘Two red wines. And which one asked for the clean cup?’)
    Herewiss laughed. “Not bad.”
    (I made it up,) said Sunspark, all childish pride. It did a quick capriole out of sheer pleasure, and almost unseated Herewiss.
    “ Hey, watch that, you! Though on second thought, maybe we should increase your part in the act. We could use another jester.”
    “ Mnh ‘qalasihiw, HhIr—” Segnbora cleared her throat. The Dracon language was beginning to fascinate her, though she couldn’t yet sing even the simplest of the emotion-intonations that went with the words; and her desire to master the tongue sometimes caused it to get out of her mouth before Darthene did. At least she hoped that was the reason. “I mean, Herewiss, there’s only one problem with that. What happens if an audience doesn’t laugh?”
    Sunspark threw a cheerful glance at its rider. (If they don’t laugh, we get rid of them and bring in a new audience.) Theconcept “get rid of them” was attached to plans for the same sudden-death fire that had been the end of the deathjaw.
    Freelorn glanced up at the sky, no doubt to invoke the Goddess’s protection on their next audience. Herewiss said nothing, just looked hard at his mount.
    Sunspark laid back its ears and showed all its teeth around the bit, then subsided somewhat. (They will come back,) it said, sulkiness showing in the thought, (you told me so!)
    “ They will. But there’s no reason to hurry people out of this life. Let the Goddess handle the timing.”
    “ It does learn quickly, though,” Segnbora said. “Another few months and I dare say the audiences will be safe.”
    Freelorn and Herewiss exchanged unconvinced, humorous glances, which Sunspark ignored. (She makes me understand the rules,) it said. (And a good thing, too. Otherwise—) Its thought carried an amused undertone of threat, like a bright edge of smoulder