The Tower of Fear by Glen Cook Page A

homesickness, and longing for his mother. But curiosity about the apes slowly intruded upon his misery. He finally went to see what could be seen.
    Before he got to the foliage the men and women appeared again, pushing carts that were not the same as those they had brought before. Once more the giant stood guard after the carts had come into the cage.
    Each of the women selected a child that she led to a cart. The kids went docilely. The women stripped them naked and lifted them into the carts and began to wash and scrub them.
    The carts were tubs on wheels. Part of them, anyway.
    Zouki did not like baths. He asked the girl who had spoken to him earlier, “Do we all have to take a bath?”
    “You do. You’re new.”
    Holy Aram! They were even washing their hair! He hated having his hair washed more than he hated anything else in the world. He thought about running to hide with the apes, but he could not move.
    The women removed their victims from the tubs, toweled them off, and dressed them in clean clothing taken from a hamper on the end of the cart. Then they went after more kids.
    One headed straight for Zouki!
    His muscles refused to act. He could do nothing but shake and start to leak tears.
    The woman was not unkind as she took his hand, hoisted him, and led him unresisting to her cart.
    He did not fight back till he saw the pitcher rising to dump water over his head. He squealed and batted at it, missed. The water gushed down over his head while a firm hand held him still. He shrieked then, and started pumping his legs up and down, running in place, splashing.
    Firm hands sat him down in the water and forced him to lean forward. Water cascaded over him, leaving him sputtering. Hands began rubbing soap into his scalp. But after the indignity of the wash and rinse there was more, something that smelled vile and burned his head.
    A woman’s voice asked, “Is this the new one?”
    “Yes, ma’am.” Another woman. The one torturing him.
    “Is he in good shape?”
    “Except for head and body lice, which they all have when they come in, he appears to be in good health and excellent physical condition.”
    “Good. Are you about ready to pull him out of there?”
    “One more rinse, ma’am.”
    Water splashed over Zouki’s head. Then hands hoisted him out of the tub, set him on the floor, began drying his hair with a towel. He opened his eyes.
    Facing him was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
    She reached out and took his face between her hands, her palms against his cheeks, and made him look into her eyes. “Don’t be afraid. Nobody’s going to hurt you.”
    “I want mom!”
    “I know.” She patted his cheek.
    The woman toweling Zouki asked, “Is he the one, ma’am?”
    “I don’t think so, Not obviously.”
    Zouki thought she looked very sad.
    *   *   *
    Arif considered the tactical situation. Mom was trying to get dressed while Stafa was trying to climb on her and Mish was complaining about something Nana had said to her. None of them were watching the door. It was a good time to go see what was happening.
    He just walked out the door like it was something he was allowed to do anytime he wanted.
    As children will, he had forgotten to take into account all facets of the situation. His grandmother grabbed hold of his clothing and with one yank sat him down beside her. “Where do you think you’re going, Arif?”
    “I was just…”
    “Just what, Arif?”
    “Just going to see what the Dartars are doing.” He stuck out his lower lip.
    “A bird is going to nest there.” Nana pinched his lip. “You know the rule. You and Stafa can’t go out unless a grown-up goes with you.”
    “I was just going right up there.”
    “Right up there is where the bad man grabbed Zouki yesterday. Remember?”
    “Well, he wouldn’t grab me! If he did I’d punch him in the nose! I’d punch him so hard…”
    “Arif!” Nana glared at him. Her face was starkly serious. “This isn’t a game. It