Something's watching us, Masklin thought. I can feel it.
The three nomes stood back-to-back. Masklin crouched down, slowly, and picked up a stone.
The grass moved.
"The Thing did say they don't all grow to twelve feet," said Angalo, in the silence.
"We were blundering around in the darkness!" said Gurder. "With things like that around!"
The grass moved again. It wasn't the wind that was moving it.
"Pull yourself together," muttered Angalo.
"If it is alligators," said Gurder, trying to look noble, "I shall show them how a nome can die with dignity."
"Please yourself," said Angalo, his eyes scanning the undergrowth. "I'm planning to show them how a nome can run away with speed."
The grasses parted.
A nome stepped out.
There was a crackle behind Masklin. His head spun around. Another nome stepped out.
And another.
And another.
Fifteen of them.
The three travelers swiveled like an animal with six legs and three heads.
It was the fire that I saw, Masklin told himself. We sat right down by the ashes of a fire, and I looked at them, and I didn't wonder who could have made them.
The strangers wore gray. They seemed to be all sizes. And every single one of them had a spear.
I wish I had mine, Masklin thought, trying to keep as many of the strangers as possible in his line of sight.
They weren't pointing their spears at him. The trouble was, they weren't exactly not pointing them, either.
Masklin told himself that it was very rare for a nome to kill another nome. In the Store it was considered bad manners, while Outside ...
well, there were so many other things that killed nomes in any case.
Besides, it was wrong. There didn't have to be any other reasons.
He just had to hope that these nomes felt the same way.
"Do you know these people?" said Angalo.
"Me?" said Masklin. "Of course not. How could I?"
"They're Outsiders. I dunno, I suppose I thought all Outsiders would know each other."
"Never seen them before in my life," said Masklin.
"I think," said Angalo, slowly and deliberately, "that the leader is that old guy with the big nose and the topknot with a feather in it. What do you think?"
Masklin looked at the tall, thin old nome who was scowling at the three of them.
"He doesn't look as if he likes us very much."
"I don't like the look of him at all," said Angalo.
"Have you got any suggestions, Thing?" said Masklin.
"They are probably as frightened of you as you are of them."
"I doubt it," said Angalo.
"Tell them you will not harm them."
"I'd much rather they told me they're not going to harm us."
Masklin stepped forward, and raised his hands.
"We are peaceful," he said. "We don't want anyone to be hurt."
"Including us," said Angalo. "We really mean it."
Several of the strangers backed away and raised their spears.
"I've got my hands raised," said Masklin over his shoulder, "Why should they be so upset?"
"Because you're holding a large rock," said Angalo flatly. "I don't know about them, but if you walked toward me holding something like that Pd be pretty scared."
"I'm not sure I want to let go of it," said Masklin.
"Perhaps they don't understand us."
Gurder moved.
He hadn't said a word since the arrival of the new nomes. He'd just gone very pale.
Now some sort of internal timer had gone off. He gave a snort, leapt forward, and he bore down on Topknot like an enraged balloon.
"How dare you accost us, you-you Outsider!" he screamed.
Angalo put his hands over his eyes. Masklin got a firm hold on his rock.
"Er, Gurder ..." he began.
Topknot backed away. The other nomes seemed puzzled by the smallexplosive figure that was suddenly among them. Gurder was in the gripof the kind of anger that is almost as good as armor.
Topknot screeched something back at Gurder.
"Don't you harangue me, you grubby heathen," said Gurder. "Do you thinkall these spears really frighten us?"
"Yes," whispered Angalo. He sidled closer to Masklin. "What's got intohim?" he said.
Topknot shouted something at his nomes. A couple of them raised theirspears, uncertainly. Several of the others appeared to argue.
"This is getting worse," said Angalo.
"Yes," said Masklin. "I think we should-"
A voice behind them snapped out a command. All the Floridians turned. Sodid Masklin.
Two nomes had come out of the grass. One was a boy. The other was asmall, dumpy woman, the sort you'd cheerfully accept an apple pie from.
Her hair was tied in a bun, and like Topknot's, it had a long grayfeather stuck through it.
The Floridians looked sheepish. Topknot spoke at length. The woman said acouple of words. Topknot spread his arms above him and muttered somethingat the sky.
The woman walked around Masklin and Angalo as if they were items ondisplay. When she looked Masklin up and down he caught her eye andthought: She looks like a little old lady, but she's in charge. If shedoesn't like us, we're in a lot of trouble.
She reached up and took the stone out of his hand. He didn't resist.
Then she touched the Thing.
It spoke. What it said sounded very much like the words the woman hadjust used. She pulled her hand away sharply, and looked at the Thing withher head on one side. Then she stood back.
At another command the Floridians formed, not a line, but a sort of Vshape with the woman at the tip of it and the travelers inside it.
"Are we prisoners?" said Gurder, who had cooled off a bit.
"I don't think so," said Masklin. "Not exactly prisoners, yet."
The meal was some sort of a lizard. Masklin quite enjoyed it; it remindedhim of his days as an Outsider. The other two ate it only because noteating it would be impolite, and it probably wasn't a good idea to beimpolite to people who had spears when you didn't.
The Floridians watched them solemnly.
There were at least thirty of them, all wearing identical gray clothes.
They looked quite like the Store nomes, except for being slightly darker and much skinnier. Many of them had large, impressive noses, which the Thing said was perfectly okay and all because of genetics.
The Thing was talking to them. Occasionally it would extend one of its sensors and use it to draw shapes in the dirt.
"Thing's probably telling them we-come-fromplace- bilong-far-on-big-bird-that-doesn't-go-flap," said Angalo.
A lot of the time the Thing was simply repeating the woman's own words back at her. Eventually Masklin couldn't stand it anymore.
"What's happening. Thing?" he said. "Why's the woman doing all the talking?"
"She is the leader of this group," said the Thing.
"A woman? Are you serious?"
"I am always serious. It's built in."
"Oh."
Angalo nudged Masklin. "If Grimma ever finds out, we're in real trouble," he said.
"Her name is Very-small-tree, or Shrub," the Thing went on.
"And you can understand her?" said Masklin.
"Gradually. Their language is very close to original nomish."
"What do you mean, original nomish?"
"The language your ancestors spoke."
Masklin shrugged. There was no point in trying to understand that now.
"Have you told her about us?" he said.
"Yes. She says-"
Topknot, who had been muttering to himself, stood up suddenly and spoke very sharply at great length, with a lot of pointing to the ground and to the sky.
The Thing flashed a few lights.
"He says you are trespassing on the land belonging to the Maker of Clouds. He says that is very bad. He said the Maker of Clouds will be very angry."
There was a general murmur of agreement from many of the nomes.
Shrub spoke to them sharply. Masklin stuck out a hand to stop Gurder from getting up.