neetha Napew - Spellsinger

filthy local jail, puking your lunch all over yourself because the local cops

don't play by the rules. As you surely will if you don't listen to Mudge and

help this lovely lady.

"I'm all right now," he muttered softly. "We'll take things easy, pursue the

internal logic. Just like researching a test case for class."

"Wot's that, mate?"

"Nothing." The otter eyed him a moment longer, then turned back to the door.

Life is a series of tests, Jon-Tom reminded himself. Where had read that? Not in

the laws of ancient Peru, or in Basic Torts or California Contracts. But he was

ready for it now, for whatever sudden turns and twists life might throw at him.

Feeling considerably more at peace with himself and the universe, he stood

facing the entrance and waited to be told what to do next.

The stubborn knob finally turned. A shape stood inside, staring back at them.

Once it had been massively proportioned, but the flesh had sagged with age. The

arms were nearly as long as the otter's whole body. One held a lantern high

enough to shower light down even on Jon-Tom's head.

The old orangutan's whiskers shaded from russet to gray. His glasses were round

and familiar, with golden metal rims. Jon-Tom decided that either wizardly

spells for improving eyesight were unknown or else local magic had not

progressed that far.

A flowing nightgown of silk and lace and a decidedly feminine cast clad that

simian shape. Jon-Tom was careful not to snicker. Nothing surprised him anymore.

"Weel, what ees eet at thees howar?" He had a voice like a rusty lawnmower. Then

he was squinting over the top rims of the glasses at Talea. "You. Don't I know

you?"

"You should," she replied quickly. "Talea of the High Winds and Moonflame. I did

a favor for you once."

Nilanthos continued to stare at her, then nodded slowly. "Ah yes, I reemeember

you now. Taleea off thee poleece records and thee dubeeous reeputation,'" he

said with a mocking smile.

Talea was not upset. "Then along with my reputation you'll recall those six

vials of drugs I got for you. The ones whose possession is frowned upon by the

sorceral societies, an exclusion extended even to," she coughed delicately,

"physicians."

"Yees, yees, off course I reemeember." He sighed resignedly. "A deebt ees a

deebt. What ees your probleem that you must call mee op from sleep so late?"

"We have two problems, actually." She started for the wagon. "Keep the door

open."

Jon-Tom and Mudge joined her. Hastily they threw aside the blanket and wrestled

out the two unlucky victims of Talea's nighttime activities. The muskrat was now

snoring noisily and healthily, much to Jon-Tom's relief.

Nilanthos stood aside, holding the lamp aloft while the grisly delivery was

hauled inside. He peered anxiously out into the street.

"Surgeree ees een back."

"I... remember." Talea grunted under her half of squirrel-quette burden. Blood

dripped occasionally onto the tiled floor. "You offered me a free 'examination,'

remember?"

The doctor closed and locked the door, made nervous quieting motions. "Sssh,

pleese. If you wakeen thee wife, I weel not bee able to canceel my half off thee

deebt. And no talk off exameenations."

"Quit trembling. I just like to see you sweat a little, that's all."

Nilanthos followed them, his attention now on the limp form slung over Jon-Tom's

shoulders. "Eef eether off theese pair are dead, wee weel all sweat a leetle."

Then his eyes widened as he apparently recognized the blubbering muskrat.

"Good God, eet's Counceelman Avelleeum! Couldn't you have peeked a leess

dangerous veecteem? He could have us all drawn and quarteered."

"He won't," she insisted. "I'm depending on you to see to that."

"You and your good nature." Nilanthos closed the door behind them, moved to

spark the oil lamps lining the surgery. "You might have been beetter off leeting

theem die."

"And what if they hadn't? What if they'd lived and remembered who attacked them?

It was dark, but I can't be sure they'd never recognize me again."

"Yees, yees, I see what you mean," he said thoughtfully. He stood at a nearby

sink and was washing long-fingered hands carefully.

"Weel then, what story should I geeve theem wheen they are brought around?" He

was pulling on gloves and returning to the large central table on which the two

patients had been deposited.

Jon-Tom leaned back against a wall and watched with interest. Mudge paced the

surgery and looked bored. Actually, he was keeping one eye on Nilanthos while

searching for anything he might be able to swipe undetected.

With a more personal interest in the welfare of the two victims, Talea stood

close to the table as Nilanthos commenced his preliminary examination.

"Tell them they had an accident," she instructed him.

"What kind off acceedent?"

"They ran into something." He looked over at her skeptically and she shrugged.

"My fist. And the iron chain I had wrapped around it. And maybe a wall. Look,

you're a doctor. Think of something reasonable, convince them. Some passersby

found them and brought them to you."

He shook his head dolefully. "Why a primate as attracteeve as yourseelf would

eendulge een such neefarious doings ees more than I can fathom, Taleea."

She moved back from the table. "You fix them up, and let me take care of me."

Several minutes passed and the examination continued. "Thee Counceelman weel bee

fine. Hee has onlee a mild concussion and minor cuts and bruises. I know. I weel

make arrangements to have heem deeposited on hees front doorstep by a couple off

rats I know who weel do that sort off work weethout letting cureeosity get een

their way." He turned his gaze on the squirrelquette, long fingers moving

carefully through her hair.

"Theese one ees not as good. There ees a chance off a skull fracture." He looked

up at Talea. "That means posseeble eenternal een-juries." The subject of the

examination moaned softly.

"She seems lively enough," Talea commented.

"Appeerances can deeceive, eespecially weeth head eenjuriees." He was applying

disinfectant and then bandaging to the wound. The bandage promptly began to show

a dark stain. "I'll just have to watch her carefullee. Do you by any chance know

her?" Talea shook her head.

"Neither do I. The Counceelman's lady for thee evening. Probably lady off thee

eevening, too. Shee'll bee angry when shee regains consciousness, but no

dangeer. I'll see to that, too."

"Good." Talea started for the exit, hesitated, put a hand on the orang's broad

shoulder. "Thanks, Nilanthos. You've more than canceled out our debt. Now I owe

you. Call on me if you need my services."

The physician replied with a wide simian leer.

"Professionally, I mean." The leer broadened. "You are impossible, Nilanthos!"

She feigned a swing at him.

"Do not strike thee doctor while hee ees een thee process off performing hees

heeling duties."

"That's a laugh! But I still owe you."

"Honor among theeves, ees that eet?" He looked seriously down at the

squirrelquette and the now badly stained bandage wrapped around her skull.

"Veree weel. For now eet's best eef you all geet out off heer." He said it while

staring at Mudge.

The otter nodded, moved away from the slipcatch-latched drug-and-narcotics case

where he'd been idling the past several minutes.

"What's the hurry?" Jon-Tom wanted to know.

Mudge put a hand on his arm, pulled him along. "Be you daft, mate? We've got t'