neetha Napew - Spellsinger

attractive."

"I'd by lying if I said otherwise."

"Well then? Close enough quarters we've been living in these past few days and I

'aven't seen you so much as lean close t' 'er. Me she knows and won't let near,

but you're a new factor."

"You've got to be kidding." He watched that mane of red hair bob and weave its

way among the herd. "If I so much as touched her she'd split me from brain to

belly."

"Don't be so sure, mate. You've already confessed your ignorance, you know."

"And you're the expert, I suppose?"

"I get by on experience, yes. Not much time for that now. But think on what I've

said."

"I will. Mudge, what she said about us having no place to go, are we that

desperate?"

" 'Ard to say, mate. Depends on whether anyone reported our late-night doin's in

Lynchbany. But we'd best move on t' somewhere else for a while."

"I know where I want to go." He looked longingly skyward, though he knew that

his world was beyond even the stars that lay hidden behind the sunlight.

Something stung the side of his face. He turned and looked in shock at Mudge.

"A long way to reach with an open palm," the otter said tightly. "Now you listen

well, mate. I've told you before and I don't aim to waste time on it again.

These maudlin sorrowings for yourself 'ave to stop. You're 'ere. We can't get

you back where you belong. Clothahump can't or won't get you back t' where you

belong. That's bloody well it, and the sooner you get used t' it, the better

it'll go for you. Or do you expect me t' wet-nurse you through your next sixty

years?"

Jon-Tom, still stunned, didn't reply. Sixty years... odd how he hadn't thought

of his stay here in terms of years, much less decades. There was always the

thought that he could be going home tomorrow, or the next day.

But if Clothahump's genius was as erratic as Mudge insisted, he might never be

going home. The wizard could die tomorrow. That night in Lynchbany outside Dr.

Nilanthos' he'd reached a temporary accommodation with his situation. Maybe

Mudge was right, and it was time he made that accommodation permanent.

Try to regard it like negative thinking for an exam. That way you're only

satisfied if you fail, happy with a fifty, and ecstatic with a hundred. That's

how you're going to have to start thinking of your life. Right now he was living

a zero. The sooner he got used to it, the less disappointed he'd be if

Clothahump proved unable to send him back. Back to the lazy mental meanderings

of school, the casual tripe mumbled by directionless friends, the day-to-day

humdrum existence he'd been leading that inaccessibility now made so tempting.

Zero, he told himself firmly. Remember the zero.

"Goddam rotten son-of-a-bitch! Shit-holes, all of 'em!"

The cry came from the other side of the corral. He and Mudge hurried through the

packed animals. But Talea was not in danger. Instead she sat tiredly on a smooth

rock while riding lizards of varying size and shape milled nervously around her.

"Stinking sneaky bastards," she rumbled. Jon-Tom started to say something but

turned at a touch on his arm. Mudge put a finger to his whiskers, shook his head

slowly.

They waited while the bile burned itself up. She finally looked up and seemed to

take notice of them. Then she rose and swept an arm around the corral.

"Our wagon's gone. I've been through the whole glade and it's not here.

Neither's our team. Do you know what I went through to steal that team?"

"Mossul's friends might have slipped out and run it off to help him cover 'is

losses. Or it might 'ave been done as punishment for the insult we did the

she-wolf," Mudge said thoughtfully, caressing his whiskers.

"I'll fry the gizzards of whoever's responsible!" She started back toward the

hall. Mudge intercepted her quickly. She pushed at him, tried to dodge around,

but he was as heavy as she and far faster. Eventually she just stood there,

glaring at him.

"Be reasonable, luv. We barely slipped out of there without 'avin' to cut

anyone. We can't go back in. Anger's no substitute for another sword. Even if we

did get back in clear and free we're just guessin' as to who's responsible. We

can't be sure it's Mossul or 'is friends."

The glare softened to a look of resignation. "You're right, otter. As usual."

She slumped down on the mossy earth and leaned back against a fence rail. "So

much, then, for 'honor among thieves.' "

"I'm sorry." Jon-Tom sat down next to her. "It was my fault. If it means

anything, I'll be happy to pay you back for the cart." He jiggled the clinking

hem of his cape meaningfully.

"Don't be ridiculous. I stole it. You needn't worry about paying back what you

don't owe."

They considered their situation. "We could buy someone else's cart," he

suggested.

Mudge looked doubtful. "Good transportation's dearer to a thief than any amount

o' money. We could buy such in town, but not 'ere."

"Well then, why don't we steal some of these?"

"Now that's not a bad idea, mate. You're startin' to adapt. Save for one little

complication." He looked to his right. At first Jon-Tom saw nothing. Then he

noticed the little knot of figures that had appeared outside the Hall entrance.

Puffs of smoke rose from the small crowd, and he could see an occasional glance

in their direction.

"But they don't know which cart or steeds are ours," Jon-Tom protested. "If we

acted like we knew what we were doing, they couldn't tell we were up to

anything."

Mudge smiled slightly. "On the other 'and, we don't know that we might not pick

on one o' their mounts. A single shout could bring the whole o' Thieves' 'All

out on us."

"A pox on this!" said Talea abruptly, springing to her feet. "So we walk, but

we're going back to see this wizard of yours. He's bound to put us up for a few

days. Might even be safer than the Hall. And we can even pay him." She indicated

Jon-Tom's winnings.

"Now 'old on a minim, luv." Mudge looked worried. "If we return there so soon,

I'll 'ave t' admit I've run into some difficulties in educatin' this lad."

"Difficulties!" Jon-Tom laughed aloud. "You've already managed to involve me in

a local tavern brawl, a police matter, and you," he looked at Talea, "in a

mugging and robbery. Two robberies. I suppose I have to count in the cart and

team, now."

"Count it any way you like, Jon-Tom." She gestured to the west. "But we can't go

to town just yet, and we can't use the hall. I'm not about to strike off into

the forest toward somewhere distant like Fife-over or Timswitty. Besides, they

cooperate with the Lynchbany cops."

"Be that as it may," said Mudge, folding his arms, "I'm not goin' back t'

Clothahump's. The old bugger's too unpredictable for my comfort."

"Suit yourself." She looked up at Jon-Tom. "I think you know the way. You afraid

of Clothahump, too?"

"You bet your ass I am," he replied promptly, "but I don't think he's the

vengeful type, and I can't think of anything else to do."

She gestured expansively. "After you, Jon-Tom."

He turned and started out of the corral, heading south and hoping his sense of

direction wasn't too badly distorted by the time they'd spent riding the night.

Mudge hesitated until they were nearly out of sight. Then he dropped a few

choice words to the indifferent lizards and sprinted anxiously after the

retreating humans....

IX

Thieves' Hall was southeast of Lynchbany Towne. They had to cross the local