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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

their plodding pace, it hinted that Lynchbany was a good-sized community. In

fact, it might be even larger than he supposed, since he didn't know if they'd

started from the city center or its outskirts.

A two-story thatched-roof structure of stone and crisscrossed wooden support

beams loomed off to their left. It leaned as if for support up against a much

larger brooding stone building. Several smaller structures that had to be

individual homes stretched off into the distance. A few showed lamps over their

doorways, but most slept peacefully in the clinging mist.

No light showed in the two thick windows of the thatched building as Talea edged

their wagon over close to it and brought it to a halt. The street was quite

empty. The only movement was from the mouths and nostrils of lizards and

passengers, where the increasing chill turned their exhalations to momentarily

thicker, tired fog. He wondered again at the reptiles. Maybe they were hybrids

with warm blood; if not, they were being extremely active for cold-blooded

creatures on such a cold night.

He climbed out of the back of the wagon and looked at the doorway close by. An

engraved sign hung from two hooks over the portal. Letters painted in white

declaimed:

NILANTHOS-PHYSICIAN AND APOTHECARY

A smaller sign in the near window listed the ailments that could be treated by

the doctor. Some of them were unfamiliar to Jon-Tom, who knew a little of common

disease but nothing whatsoever of veterinary medicine.

Mudge and Talea were both whispering urgently at him. He moved out of the street

and joined them by the door.

It was recessed into the building, roofed over and concealed from the street.

They were hidden from casual view as Talea knocked onee, twice, and then harder

a third time on the milky bubble-glass set into the upper part of the door. She

ignored the louder bellpull.

They waited nervously but no one answered. At least no one passed them in the

street, but an occasional distinct groan was now issuing from the back of the

wagon.

" 'E's not in, 'e ain't." Mudge looked worried. "I know a Doctor Paleetha. 'E's

clear across town, though, and I can't say 'ow trustworthy 'e be, but if we've

no one else t' turn t'..."

There were sounds of movement inside and a low complaining voice coming closer.

It was at that point that Jon-Tom became really scared for the first time since

he'd materialized in this world. His first reactions had been more disbelief and

confusion than fear, and later ones were tied to homesickness and terror of the

unknown.

But now, standing in an alien darkened street, accomplice to assault and battery

and so utterly, totally alone, he started to shake. It was the kind of real,

gut-chilling fear that doesn't frighten as much as it numbs all reality. The

whole soul and body just turn stone cold--cold as the water at the bottom of a

country well--and thoughts are fixated on a single, simple, all-consuming

thought.

I'm never going to get out of this alive.