Pog seemed to think so, but then Pog was terrified of his own
shadow.
Clothahump's strength had returned. He slid off the bed,
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started for the doorway. "We must consult the rest of our
party."
"They may not all be in a condition to understand,"
Jon-Tom warned him. "We have generous hosts, you know."
"A night of harmless pleasure is good for the soul now and
then, my boy. Though it should never descend to unconscious-
ness. I am pleased to see that you have retained control of
yourself."
"So far," said Jon-Tom fervently, "but after what you've
just proposed, I may change my mind."
"It will not be so bad," said the wizard, clapping him on
the waist as they swung aside the concealing curtain and
moved out into the tunnel. "There will be some danger, but
we have survived that several times over."
"Yeah, but it's not like an innoculation," Jon-Tom muttered.
"We haven't become immune. We keep taking risks and
sooner or later they've got to catch up with us." He ducked to
avoid a low section of iron ceiling.
"We shall do our best, my boy, to see that it is later."
Pog remained behind, hanging quietly from the oil lamp in
the now empty room. He considered remaining behind
permanently. The Ironclouders would shelter him, he was
sure.
That would mean no transformation, of course. All that
he'd suffered at the wizard's hands, and mouth, would
have been for naught. Also, as the only arboreal of the
group, he knew how they depended on him for reconnaisance
and such.
Besides, better death than life cursed by unrequited love.
He let free of the lamp, dipped in the air, and soared oin
into the tunnel after the two wizards.
There was the anticipated debate and argument the nexl
morning. One by one, as before, the various members of the
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THE HOUR OF THE GATE
little group were won over by Clothahump's assurances,
obstinacy, and veiled threats.
Their course decided, it was time to ascertain the position
taken during the night by the inhabitants of Ironcloud. Five of
the great owls faced Ihe travelers on the plateau below the
cave city. Two were homed, two pale bam, and one a tiny
hoot, who was smaller than Pog but equal in dignity to his
massive feathered brothers. With them were five lemurs. The
sun was not yet up.
"We do not doubt your seriousness nor the truth you tell,"
Tolafay was saying, "nor the worth of your mission, but still
we doubted whether it was worth breaking a rule of hundreds
of years of noninvolvement in the arguments of others." He
gestured at Ananthos.
"Yet we share such feelings with the inhabitants of the
Scuttleteau and they have nonetheless agreed to help you. So
we will help, too." Murmurs of agreement came from his
companions.
"That's settled, then," said a satisfied Clothahump. "You
will be valuable allies in the coming war and—"
"A moment, please." One of the lemurs stepped forward.
He had a high, stiff collar and light vest above billowing
pantaloons of bright yellow. "We did not say that we'd be
your allies. We said we'd help.
"You asked us to give the Weavers permission to travel
through our country and to provide a route southward through
the mountains so they can reach the Swordsward and then
make their way to the Jo-Troom Gate you speak of. That's
what we'll do. We'll also try and find you a way to the
Greendowns. But we won't fight."
"But I thought—" Jon-Tom began.
"No!" snapped one of the other owls. "Absolutely no. We
simply can't do any more for yooooo. Don't ask it of us."
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"But surely—" A restraining hand touched Talea and she
quieted.
"It is more than we'd hoped for, friends. It will suffice."
Clothahump turned to face Ananthos. "We have the allies we
came to find."
"so you do," said the spider at last, "provided the army
can be assembled in time to make the march."
"I can only hope that it does," the wizard told him
solemnly, "because the fate of several worlds may depend on
it."
"Not Ironctoud," said another of the owls smugly. "Ironcloud
is impregnable to assault by land or air."
"So it is," agreed Caz casually, "but not by magic."
"We'll take our chances," said Tolafay firmly.
"Then there's nothing more to be said." Clothahump
nodded.
Wordlessly the Ironclouders departed, owl and primate
soaring to join their brethren high in the night sky. Great
wings and glowing eyes shone as the night hunters returned in
twos and threes to their black home. They filled the air
between earth and moon.
Another pair lifted from the plateau, heading for interior
darkness and a good, warm day's sleep. Jon-Tom could
only hope those homes would be as invulnerable as their
inhabitants believed from the eventual attacks of the Plated
Polk.
The last of the lemurs stared at them curiously while her
companion owl kicked impatiently at the ground. The sun had
peeked over the eastern crags and those great eyes were
three-quarters closed in half sleep.
"There's one tiling I'd like to know. How do you warmlanders
expect to penetrate Cugluch?"
"Disguise," Clothahump told her confidently.
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THE HOOK OF THE GATE
"You do not look much like Plated Folk," replied the
lemur doubtfully.
Clothahump shook a finger at her, spoke knowingly. "The
greatest disguise is assurance. We will be protected because
no Plated One would believe our presence. And where
assurance operates, magic is not far behind."
The lemur shrugged. "I think you are all fools, brave
fools, and soon-to-be-dead fools. But we will show the
Weavers the path they require and you the path to your
Deaths." She looked upward. "Your guides come."
.Two owls descended to join them. One motioned to the
waiting Ananthos. The Weaver trembled slightly as he made
his farewells.
"we shall meet at the gate," he told them. "that is, if I
survive this journey, i am not afraid of heights, but I have
never been in a high place where i could not break a fall by
attaching silk to some solid object, you cannot spin from a
cloud."
He climbed on the owl's back, waved legs at them. The
owl took a few steps, flapping mighty wings, and then soared
into the air of morning. He wore dark shades to protect him
from the sunlight.
They watched until the wings became a black line on the
horizon. Then the pair faded even from Caz's view.
The small hoot owl stood muttering to herself nearby. Her
kilt was black, purple, and yellow. "I'm Imanooo," she
informed them brusquely. "Let's get on with this. I'll point
you the way for two days, but that's all. Then you're on
your own."
The remaining lemur mounted his saddle. "I still think
you're all fools, but," he smiled broadly, "many a brave fool
has succeeded where a cautious genius has failed. Fly well."
He saluted with an arm wave as he and his friend rose
skyward.
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Alone in their cold-weather garb, the travelers watched
until the last pairing vanished into the hematite. Then Imanooo
rose and started off to the south, and they followed.
The path where there was no path carried them steadily
lower. The unvarying downhill hike was a welcome change
from the tortuous march to Ironcloud. The day after Imanooo
left them they began to discard their heavy clothing. Soon