"Wait till my father learns of this!" The girl was rubbing her elbows. "He'll call down the wrath of the Great Zipher on this—this ark of abominations! The grave will open to swallow you. Death and oblivion shall come, and everlasting torment—"
"Shut up!" Lodar pushed the girl away. "Why you people waste your time on Mutes—"
"They're not mute!" she stormed. "Woe to you, you—"
"Shut up!" Lodar bawled.
"Very well." She drew herself up to a full five feet, one. "I'll show you!" She went to the bars. "Emu! Emu! Tell this heathen what the Great Zipher says."
One of the Mutes shuffled forward, a man with blank face. He drew a breath and recited in singsong tones.
"The Great Zipher say, come unto me all ye who look for work, and I give."
"See!" The girl turned imperiously. "Now, let them loose!"
"A parrot!" Lodar snapped. "Come on above or do I drag you?"
For a moment she looked rebellious, then she shrugged the skin cloak about her slender shoulders and turned with them to the well stairs.