Mungus: Book 1 by Chad Leito

you guys aren’t too stupid to understand some simple directions.”  He spat and then turned on his horse and headed forward on Main Street.  “Follow me,” he called behind him.
                  We walked beneath the hot sun, following our new leader to something called the “Theatre.”  I had a sick feeling in my stomach and wanted to go home.
                  I could see the Theatre from half a mile away.  The structure stood tall above the others, spanning high into the sky.  It was made of white rock, distinct against the blue sky and city of clay buildings.  The building was a giant circle that only seemed to grow bigger as we got closer.  It was surrounded by big, open stone doorways that Salyers of all ages were pouring into.  Clowns were standing outside of the entryways making balloons and vendors were selling cotton candy and popcorn.  Whenever we got closer, I saw that there was a field of green grass beside the Theatre with hundreds of horses tied up on wooden poles that protruded from the ground.  Di and Hank gave a man some coins so that they could park their horses on two of the poles.
                  Di walked in front of us and Hank walked behind us, just as they had ridden.  As we got closer, I heard the cheering of a large crowd and agonized screaming.  I shook my head to make the hallucination stop, ‘surely no one is screaming.’  But the sound never went away.  Di strutted ahead of us under his cowboy hat and with each footprint that his boot left and with each swing of the chains I became more and more certain that I was hearing shrieking coming from the giant structure.
                  We passed by the popcorn and cotton candy vendors and entered under one of the stone arches.  It was much cooler under the shadows.  Di spat on the stone floor.  Salyers of all sizes and ages were working their way through the crowded halls.  The ceilings of the building were high and the air was filled with the scent of sawdust.  Di led his prisoners through the crowd of people down a big hallway, then up a wooden, spiral staircase.  The sound of people screaming was unmistakable now.  “Help me!  Please, God!”  Our chains rattled as we walked up the stairs and a hollow sound came after each step of Di’s boots.  When the staircase ended, we came out into the open air and I saw a circle of stone bleachers facing into an oval arena.  The arena appeared to be the size of a football field and circled around the edge of it, just off of the sand, were hundreds of locked jail cells with prisoners inside.  Some screamed to be let out, some stared at the crowd through the bars, and some lay down on the floor.  All of the prisoners had hair.  I looked up at our bald guards and then at all of the hairless men and women in the audience.  The Salyers seemed to be running the show.
                  We found our seats up high in the stadium and I sat with my handcuffs on top of my lap and my chains drooping off to both sides.   I looked around and noticed another race of people.  They were short, stocky, and most of them had beards and hairy arms.  I determined that these people must be the Beardsleys.
    Di and Hank sat on either side of the chain gang.  There was no shade except for when a stray cloud would drift in front of the sun.  “What do you think this is?” Saul asked.  He was smiling and hadn’t picked up on the clues that I had.  “Do you think that it’s a play?”
                  A prisoner reached out of his cell and screamed, “God will judge you for this!”
                  Saul heard this and laughed.  “They sure are getting into it.”
                  I looked up at Saul and shook my head.  “I don’t know, Saul.”
                  “What’s wrong?” Saul asked.  He tilted his head and didn’t understand why I was sad when I was about to see a