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"I'm sorry. You know how I feel about this."

"I sure do. But I'd appreciate it if you'd be a little less forthcoming with those two children. I'm talking about 'need to know'. The less they know, the better for them if things go wrong. You aren't doing them any favors by talking about Crius and his loyalty or lack of it. If that got to the wrong ears, if one of them made an innocent remark, it could start certain thoughts that I'd just as soon were not thought. I wish I hadn't brought them down here."

"You're right, I guess," Gaby said. "I'll be more careful."

Cirocco sighed and touched Gaby's shoulder.

"Just keep on doing what you've been doing. Be a tour guide. Point out the marvels. Tell them funny stories, and keep them entertained, and remember they're along to learn things that will keep them out of trouble, not to get them into anything we're doing."

"Do you think you might be able to open up a little more? There are a lot of things you could teach them."

Cirocco looked thoughtful. "I could tell them a thing or two about drinking."

"Don't be so hard on yourself."

"I don't know, Gaby. I thought I was doing better. But now there's Inglesina."

Gaby winced. She took Cirocco's hand and squeezed it.

Just beyond the line of vertical cables Ophion began a series of wide loops. The land was flat and so nearly level that the river slowed to a crawl.

Robin used the time to improve her skills with the oar. She rowed all day, with Hautbois instructing her in the finer points of boat handling. She would set Robin the task of turning the craft by herself, guiding it through tight circles or figure eights in the shortest possible time. Then the two of them would put their backs into it to catch up with the others. Her shoulders grew strong, and she developed blisters and then calluses on the palms of her hands. At the end of the day she was exhausted, but a little less so each morning.

They were in no hurry. Groups of Titanides appeared on the shore, singing for the Wizard. Gaby or Cirocco would shout one word at them, and they would gallop away in high excitement. The word was "Inglesina." Robin learned it was the name of a large island in Ophion. Like Grandioso, it was named for one of the Titanides' beloved marches and was the site of the Crian Purple Carnival.

The Carnival was to be held 120 revs from the time of the first meeting with the Crians. It had to be so to give the local Titanides time to gather. They camped early and arose late. Robin began to feel more comfortable in the sleeping bag, to listen less to the thousand sounds of Gaea. She even came to enjoy the murmuring river as she relaxed and waited for sleep to come. It was not so very different from the purring of the air system she had heard all her life.

There were no further mishaps with the food, nor did they have any visits from unknown creatures. But at one camp, when Robin was feeling particularly bored, she took Chris on a snipe hunt. She judged, correctly, that he would not question her assertion that the Titanides wanted a brace of snipe for the evening meal, nor would he think the approved method of catching them in the least odd. After all, what in Gaea was not odd?

So she took him a good distance from the camp and showed him how to hold the sack, cautioned him to tie it tightly when the little creatures had run inside, and went off over a low hill to drive them from the underbrush and into his waiting arms. Then she went back to camp and waited for him.

She felt a little guilty about it. He had been so easy to fool that a lot of the enjoyment had gone out of it. And she wondered, not for the first time, if it was ethical to prank her comrades on what everyone kept saying was a dangerous journey. The trouble was that it had not looked very dangerous so far, and-she might as well admit it-she was unable to resist.

He stayed away for nearly two hours. She was about ready to go bring him back when he appeared on his own, looking forlorn. Everyone was sitting around the fire, finishing another superb meal. Gaby and Cirocco looked up in surprise as he sat down and reached for the pot.

"I thought you were in your tent," Cirocco said. "So did I," Gaby said, then looked thoughtfully at Robin. "Now that I think of it, though, Robin didn't actually say that. She just led me to believe you were."

"I'm sorry," Robin said, directing it to Chris. He shrugged, then managed to grin. "You sure did get me. I just happened to remember something you said. About the witches appreciating tellers of lies." She was happy to see he was not bitter. There was the inevitable chagrin, but apparently Earth humans as well as witches felt an obligation not to be angry at a friendly con. Or at least Chris did.

The story came out gradually since Robin could not honorably boast of it, nor was Chris eager to admit his gullibility. As it unfolded, Hautbois caught Robin's eye and made a warning sign. The Titanide was watching Cirocco intently. Suddenly, she signaled, and Robin leaped over the rock she had been sitting on and began to run.

"Giant chicken!" Cirocco roared. "Giant chicken? I'll give you a giant chicken. You won't sit down for a month!"

Cirocco had the longer stride; Robin, the quicker moves. It was never established if the Wizard could catch her, however, as the whole party joined in the chase and Robin was soon cornered, laughing hysterically. She struggled hard, but they had no trouble throwing her in the river.

The next day they picked up a hitchhiker. He was the first human they had seen since leaving Hyperion. A small naked man with a flowing black beard, he stood on the riverbank and hailed them, then swam out to climb into Cirocco's canoe when she granted permission. Chris maneuvered his boat close to get a look at him. From the looseness of his pale, weathered skin, he must have been in his sixties. He spoke a clipped, slangy version of English, with a Titanide singsong flavor. He invited them to eat at the settlement where he lived, and Cirocco accepted for the group.

The place was called Brazelton and consisted of several domes set in an area of plowed fields. As they docked, Chris caught sight of a naked man following a plow drawn by a team of Titanides.

There were about twenty Brazeltonians. They were nudists by religion. Everyone had a beard, men and women alike. On Earth, female facial hair was a fad which had come and gone several times in the twenty-first century. Now it was rare, but seeing the bearded women reminded Chris of his own childhood, when his mother had worn a neat goatee. He rather liked it.

Gaby did not know a great deal about the settlement but told him that the group practiced incest. The man they had picked up was known as Gramps, and it was not a nickname. Others were called things like Mother and Son3. There was a Great Gra'mama, but no male of her generation. As children were born, everyone moved up into a different name.

Robin thought the arrangement very strange, and Chris heard her say so to Gaby.

"I agree," Gaby said. "But they're no loonier than a lot of other little groups of exiles scattered through Gaea. And you'd do well to remember that your own Coven probably looked pretty odd when it got started. Hell, it still would, if anybody on Earth was asked about it. Your mothers went to Sargasso Point; these days the fringe groups come here if they're small enough to get Gaea's permission."

The customs were not the only strange thing about the group. There were some odd individuals. Chris saw his first human-Titanide hybrids. One woman, otherwise unremarkable, had the long ears of a Titanide and a naked tail that reached to her knees. There were two Titanides with human legs and feet. By the time he saw them Chris was sufficiently accustomed to Titanide legs that it was the hybrids who seemed misshapen.

He spoke to Cirocco about it, but his knowledge of genetics was not sufficient to understand what she was saying. He suspected she might not know as much about it as she claimed. The fact was that Gaea had allowed no human studies of Titanide genes, nor had any hybrid ever left Gaea. It remained mysterious how two such dissimilar animals could be cross-fertile.