neetha Napew - Spellsinger

alive and breathing, the musk-rat felt very dead to the worried Jon-Tom.

That was now a major concern. He thought he might be able to talk his way out of

being in the same wagon with a couple of robbery victims, but if either one of

them died and they were stopped by the police he doubted even Clothahump would

be able to help him.

Talea was rapidly pulling a thick blanket of some woven gray material over the

bodies. Then the three of them were running around to the front seat of the

wagon.

There wasn't enough room there for all of them on the down-sized platform. Talea

had grabbed the reins and Mudge had already mounted alongside her, so Jon-Tom

had no choice but to vault the wagon rail and sit in the bed behind them.

" 'Tis best anyway, mate." Mudge smiled sympathetically. "I know the wood's

'ard, but as big as you are we don't want to draw any more attention than we can

get away with. Snuggle yourself down low and we won't."

Talea gave a flip of the reins and shouted a soft "Hup!" and they were on their

way. Just in time, too. As they rumbled down the street another rider passed

them close.

Despite his exhaustion and confusion Jon-Tom's interest was aroused. He barely

had time for a glance at the mist-shrouded rider.

A white-faced, leather-clad rabbit was mounted on a slim lizard traveling on all

fours. The reptile had a long snout with two short tusks protruding upward from

just back of the nostrils. Its eyes were searchlight bright and yellow with

black slit pupils.

The rider sat in a saddle that was securely attached by multiple straps to the

lizard's neck and belly, the extra ties necessary because of the animal's

peculiar twisting, side-to-side method of travel. It gave a snakelike appearance

to the motion. The long tail was curled up in a spiral and fastened to the

reptilian rear with a decorative silver scroll. Blunt claws appeared to have

been trimmed close to the quick.

As he watched them vanish down the street, he thought that the rider must be

getting a smoother ride than any horse could provide, since all the movement was

from side to side instead of up and down.

That inspired him to inspect their own team. Shifting around on the wood and

trying to avoid kicking the terribly still forms beneath the gray blanket, he

peered ahead beneath the raised wagon seat.

The pair of creatures pulling the wagon were also reptilian, but as different

from the rabbit's mount as he was from Mudge. Harnessed in tandem to the wagon,

they were shorter and bulkier than the single mount he'd just seen. They had

blunt muzzles and less intelligent appearances, though that evaluation was

probably due more to his unfamiliarity with the local reptilian life than to any

actual physiologic difference.

They trudged more slowly over the cobblestones. Their stride was deliberate and

straightforward instead of the unusual twisting, side-to-side movement of the

other. Stumpy legs also covered less ground, and leathery stomach folds almost

scraped the pavement. Obviously they were intended for pulling heavy loads

rather than for comfort or speed.

Despite their bovine expressions they were intelligent enough to respond to

Talea's occasional tugs on the reins. He studied the process of steering with

interest, for there was no telling when such knowledge might prove useful. He

was a good observer, one of the hallmarks of both lawyer and musician, and

despite his discouragement about his surroundings he instinctively continued to

soak up local information.

The reins, for example, were not attached to bits set in the lizard's mouths.

Those thick jaws could have bitten through steel. Instead, they were joined to

rings punched through each nostril. Gentle tugs at these sensitive areas were

sufficient to guide the course of the lumbering dray.

His attention shifted to a much closer and more intriguing figure. From his

slouched position he could see only flaming curls and the silver-threaded shape

of her blouse and pants, the latter curving deli-ciously over the back edge of

the wooden seat.

Whether she felt his eyes or not he couldn't tell, but once she glanced sharply

back down at him. Instead of turning embarrassedly away he met her stare. For a

moment they were eye to eye. That was all. No insults this time. When he stepped

further with a slight smile, more from instinct than intent, she simply turned

away. She had not smiled back, but neither had that acid tongue heaped further

abuse on him.

He settled back against the wooden side of the wagon, trying to rest. She was

under a lot of pressure, he told himself. Enough to make anyone edgy and

impolite. No doubt in less dangerous surroundings she was considerably less

antagonistic.

He wondered whether that was likely or if he was simply rationalizing away

behavior that upset him. It was admittedly difficult to attribute such

bellicosity to such a beautiful lady. Not to mention the fact that it was bad

for a delicate male ego.

Shut up, he told himself. You've got more important things to worry about. Think

with your head instead of your gonads. What are you going to tell Clothahump

when you see him again? It might be best to...

He wondered how old she actually was. Her diminutive size was the norm among

local humans and hinted at nothing. He already knew her age to be close to his

own because she hadn't contradicted his earlier comment about it. She seemed

quite mature, but that could be a normal consequence of a life clearly somewhat

tougher than his own. He also wondered what she would look like naked, and had

reason to question his own maturity.

Think of your surroundings, Meriweather. You're trapped, tired, alone, and in

real danger.

Alone... well, he would try his best to be friends with her, if she'd permit it.

It was absurd to deny he found her attractive, though every time she opened her

mouth she succeeded in stifling any serious thoughts he might be developing

about extending that hoped-for friendship.

They had to become friends. She was human, and that in itself was enough to make

him homesick and desperate. Maybe when they'd deposited the bodies at whatever

location they were rolling toward she would relax a little.

That prompted him to wonder and worry about just where they were taking their

injured cargo, and what was going to be done with it when they got there.

A moan came from beneath the blanket behind him, light and hesitant. He thought

it came from the squirrelquette, though he couldn't be certain.

"There's a doctor out on the edge of town," Talea said in response to his

expression of concern.

"Glad to hear it." So there was at least a shred of soul to complement the

beauty. Good. He watched in silence as a delicately wrought two-wheeled buggy

clop-clopped past their wagon. The two moon-eyed wallabies in the cab were far

too engrossed in each other to so much as glance at the occupants of the wagon,

much less at the lumpy cargo it carried.

Half conscious now, the little squirrel was beginning to kick and roll in

counterpoint to her low moans. If she reawakened fully, things would become

awkward. He resolved that in spite of his desire to make friends with Talea, he

would bolt from the wagon rather than help her inflict any more harm. But after

several minutes the movement subsided, and the unfortunate victim relapsed into

silence.

They'd been traveling for half an hour and were still among buildings. Despite