Chapter 1 part 2
     Several twists down the road Laughing Coyote slowed his headlong rush to a more reasonable trot, people were staring and he didn’t really want the attention right now. The college was situated on a tall hill overlooking the bay and the road wound down and back and forth until it reached the docks. It was unlikely anyone standing at the school’s arch could see him past the jumble of workshops and houses, each with its own small yard or gardens and animal pens. Dogs barked and waved their tails at him as he passed.
     He could see numerous small fishing boats tied up and a few war canoes at the docks but what made him stop still in shock was the sight of a demon ship moored up in the deepest part of the harbor, it was much bigger than even the warships on either side. It was built differently too, instead of being carved from a single great tree it was pieced together out of many small lengths of wood from different trees. There was a tall pole sprouting out of the middle of the demon’s boat with a sail like a red and white striped blanket tied to it. A carved dragon head on a long curving neck fronted the boat and made it look like some bizarre living creature.
     He shook his head and resumed walking no wonder grandfather seemed irritated, his great uncles had been among the warriors who fought the demons push from the north years before he was born. His brothers died to keep these creatures off our shores and now the council just invites them in! More irksome still to the old man since he was on the council and was not heeded.
     The Medicine People and the Elders said that the demons were not demons, and not spirit-folk like the Sasquatch but men. Ugly hairy men to be sure and taller than had any need to be, which was why people had first mistaken them for Sasquatch dwarves. But no Sasquatch would do the things that these creatures did.  There were other reasons people called them demons.
     Things had been quiet lately, so quiet that some trade with known individuals had been permitted, so long as someone vouched for them and they paid a heavy bond against future misdeeds. But the wealth they brought in trade goods was too much to resist; steel that didn’t come from the flint-skinned Cahokians, a fine cloth like moth wings called silk, and alcohol. Oh, alcohol had been wildly popular and the Elders had quickly seen to limiting its accessibility. An age limit was one of those restrictions; one had to be a full year past their actual adult birthday to drink alcohol. I received my adult name at fourteen only to be told I wasn’t really an adult until I was sixteen. When I turned sixteen and I was finally an adult did anything change? I was and am still told what to do like a little child.
     He paused where the road forked; one fork of the road edged along the beach before curving back into town, the other led to the wooden pier and the shacks built along it. A cold wind from the ocean blew his hair around his face. He unfolded his blanket and wrapped it around himself and his bag. There is no one here to impress.
     Laughing Coyote stepped a bit cautiously onto the wooden path; it was wide and strong enough to carry heavy-leaden horses and full carts and built on huge tree trunks that had been pounded deeply and securely into place, but he still felt it was unnatural to walk over rushing waves. The place he was looking for was supposed to be at the end of the pier. It was right next to where the ship of the demons-who-weren’t was tied up.
     His steps slowed as he approached the described building. A dragon-headed shadow fell menacingly across the door and he almost turned back. But the sound of his steps ringing hollowly on the wooden dock caused a head to pop up over the ship’s tall edge. Hair like straw stood stiff atop a young demon’s head and icy blue eyes glared at him out of a face pale as a snowbank. A second demon popped up next to the first. He had a great wild mane of hair like sedge grass that grew not only from his head but down to engulf his lower face as well. He looked altogether like someone wearing a fur hood tied too tight.
     With two pairs of baleful blue eyes on him there was no turning around. He pushed open the door to the drinking house which was painted with red and white stripes and shut it quickly behind him. It was dark inside and smoky from candles, sweetleaf, and tobacco. It was also full of demons.
     Or it so it seemed to Laughing Coyote, there were actually only five of them taking up the big table in the middle of the room. Two men stood at the counter that divided the public side of the room from the proprietor and the barrels of drink he was only allowed to sell by the cup. The two men spoke in low voices to each other and cast suspicious glances at the boisterous demons. Who aren’t demons actually, just annoying. One other man huddled in his robes in the corner paying attention only to his cups.
     Laughing Coyote kept his blanket pulled close and tried to edge quietly around the rough hewn table and occupants. One leaned over as he tried to pass and reached out a thick pasty arm painted with blue designs and placed a meaty palm on the wall blocking his way. This was the closest he’d ever been to one of these creatures and he didn’t think much of him so far. This one had long stringy pale hair like cornsilk and hair under his nose that hung down each side of his mouth. He smiled hugely revealing yellowed teeth that were missing a few in the front.
     “Skraeling!” Breath indescribably foul wafted over his face and he took a half step back. “Skraeling come! Drink!” The one with cornsilk hair waved his cup expansively towards the middle of the table where there were several more full mugs waiting.
     “I’m waiting for my friends.” He smiled and edged back a little more but there was another close behind him, a huge monster as wide as he was tall and dressed in bright scarlet.
     “Ja! We friends. Come, us drink skraeling.” The scarlet demon had the darkest hair he’d seen yet on a northerner, light brown like dried leaves. Still, he had the unnatural blue demon eyes, although on him they were more like the grey winter sky outside then the bright blue of the others. Or maybe his eyes only looked grey because they were so bloodshot. He held a fat roll of sweetleaf wrapped in tobacco in one hand. The other he clapped on Laughing Coyote’s shoulder and grinned like he was his best friend in the world.
     “I suppose one wouldn’t hurt.” He replied smiling nervously. I might as well enjoy a free drink while I wait for Yellow Horse and Tall Otter to get here. The one in scarlet gave a wild howl of delighted laughter after a few moments to mentally work out the sentence.
     “No hurt no one!” He cried gleefully and pushed him down onto the bench; squashing him and cornsilk-hair together. The scarlet demon then drew a deep lungful of smoke from the rollup and grabbed a two-handled cup from the center of the table and plunked it down in front of him.
     The giant scarlet demon blew smoke down over him in a great cloud like a red dragon. “Drink skraeling.” There was something not quite so jovial about him now, some coldness in the grey eyes.
     Laughing Coyote seized a handle in each hand and lifted the cup and took a big sip then set it back on the table and forced himself to swallow the horrible stuff he’d just put in his mouth. He managed to not grimace but couldn’t suppress a shudder as the alcohol burned from his throat to his stomach.
     The scarlet demon pulled on the hair growing out of his face and groaned and rolled his eyes while the others laughed. “Drink! No taste. Drink!”
     “Yes skraeling, show us how a man drinks.” This demon didn’t sound as drunk as the others and he spoke Tsalagi much more fluently; he looked older too and wore a lot more gold and honey-stone jewelry than the others.
     Laughing Coyote seized the cup’s handles again took a deep breath then gulped the contents as quickly as he could. He slammed the cup back onto the table and belched hugely to wild cheers from his new friends. He felt suddenly very dizzy and a little queasy, why isn’t this drinking as great as I was led to believe?
     Scarlet thumped him heartily on the back while jabbering something at the others in a harsh growly language and laughing. The older one replied in the same tongue and they all laughed some more. Maybe it’s the company.  He carefully selected another cup and set it down in front of the two-handled mug.
     The second taste didn’t seem nearly so bad as the first. Perhaps it was a better cup, this one was red clay glazed blue on the outside. Blue is my favorite color. A few more sips and it didn’t taste that bad at all. He scarcely noticed when the two men who’d been standing by the counter left.
     Everyone was singing, and he loved to sing so he sang along. It was a strange song in their strange grumbly language that he didn’t understand so he just made up his own words. They seemed to like it all the same and encouraged him to sing more. The older fellow seemed especially pleased and smiled at him a lot.
     On his third or fourth try he picked up his mug again and was surprised to see it was black. There was a handle where he didn’t remember one. He looked for the blue mug, but it sat empty next to a plain clay one he didn’t recall at all.
     He tried to take a drink but this proved to be rather tricky. He seemed to be having trouble getting his mouth to kiss the lips of the cup in his hands. He tried imagining it was the mouth of a girl he wanted to kiss and leaned back; back and further back until he fell, and fell, and didn’t stop falling for a long time.
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