Updated: 1/24/13

Gardenia: The Furry Roleplaying Game - "Brotherhood of Cordero"
(Nightshade)

Cat	Rhino	Panda	Dog	Scorpion	Bear
Fish	Duck	Walrus	Elephant	Bunny	Mouse
Pokeball	Leaf	Sun	Moon	Star	Slime
Crown	Key	Acorn	Shield	Walnut	Cheese
Jackelope	Alligator	Snake	Feather	Bird	Puffer Fish
Goomba	Clown Fish	Hamburger
BLACK	WHITE	BUG

     Ticivius leaned close to him, pointing at the symbols. "See those black and white squares that don't have anything in them? Those are color bets. You only get 10% from those and the dealer symbol, that black bug over there. The rest of them yield quite a bit, since the odds are greater. Go ahead and pick one for me."
     "Before you do," said a lispy voice. "I suggest you rub the belly of Riradema."
     Nightshade turned and saw the black rat sitting on a stool next to him. He was offering a porcelain statue of a bloated platypus creature. The image on the statue looked jolly, and it had a big fat bare belly. "It will bring you luck!" he said in a sing-song voice. "Completely free, my friend. No strings attached. Just rub Riradema's belly before each bet and you'll win every game you try. Want to give it a go?" He waved it in front of Nightshade. "Try it as an experiment. See if it really brings you luck."
     "You're just trying to get a percentage of the winnings!" Ticivius complained.
     Rodante seemed to be shocked. "Now why would I do that? Really, sir. I am but a simple merchant. I only wish to give your friend here a trial of this fine luck charm. After he wins a few games, he'll be begging me to buy it. No sir, you can keep your winnings. I have no right to take what is rightfully yours. You can rub the belly of Riradema all you want. I just want to prove to you that my statues and amulets really do bring you good fortune."
     With a quiet, sardonic growl, Nightshade turned toward the rat. "If I'm as lucky as you say, then I really don't need your charms, do I?"
     "Ah," said Rodante. "But that was beginner's luck. Judging from your friend's winnings, you need something to keep the fires of luck going."
     "Get out of my face, Dandy Kipper, or whatever your name is. And don't try anything funny, 'cause I'll know, and I can do worse to you. As for you," he added, shifting his gaze back to the squirrel, "There are two creatures in this town who need help, and who've traveled a good distance today, to find you specifically. I don't know why they did that; from what I've seen, you look to be more interested in playing backwater mind games. I intend to inform them of this disappointment." He paused to let that sink in. "Now, I don't know how far up or down you are at the moment from when you last started gambling, but the thought occurs that if you can't at least find out what kind of help my friends need, then you might need professional help." Stepping away from the table, the hybrid concluded his piece. "The three of us who came here looking for you have arranged to meet at the fountain outside when the sun turns red. If you decide to hear us out, that's where we'll be. This table will still be here when you get back." He left the casino, not even sparing Ticivius a backward glance on the way out.
     His empassioned speech had little effect. He waited at least ten minutes with no results.
     He stared out at the crowd, watching the animals wandering to and fro between merchants and the city gate. He saw a white mink in a black and white striped shirt talking to a lemur in front of a stand full of jewelry. He saw tiny points glittering on her nose, her lip, and her ears. After purchasing a bracelet, she went up somewhere around the tent.
     A frog dressed in buckskin turned the corner. Nightshade waved to him. "Dreamcloud!"
     The frog hurried over to him. "Did you find him?"
     Nightshade nodded. "He doesn't want to help us. All he wants to do is gamble."
     Dreamcloud shook his head. "I should have expected this. He has asked the elders repeatedly for a casino to be built on our land."
     "Then why are we asking him for help?"
     "I do not know who else to ask. I am hoping that Ticivius can lead us to someone who can help us re-establish our tribe." He sighed. "Or at least another tribe we can join until we can establish a clan large enough to reclaim our tribal lands. If we must build a casino on our land to accomplish this purpose, I will do it." His eyes went to the facade. "Where is he?"
     "He's at the roulette table in the back."
     Dreamcloud went through the entrance. Nightshade followed him in. The frog went straight to the roulette table, standing over the squirrel's shoulder with his arms crossed. He started talking to him. The two talked to one another for several minutes while the roulette wheel spun.
     Dreamcloud went up to the wheel, grabbed the silver ball, wound up and threw it across the room. Nightshade heard a shattering sound, and one of the statues crumbled into dust. There was a chorus of shouts. A mob of strong animals flocked around him, Dreamcloud and Ticivius, and they were all unceremoniously shoved out the door.
     "My winnings!" Ticivius cried. "You ruined everything!"
     "My apologies, but I needed to get your attention. I need your help, Ticivius."
     "What good could I possibly do? You told me yourself that you lost your entire tribe to the Huruts."
     "You're an expert trader, Ticivius. You know other tribes. I want to find them and talk to their elders. Tell me. Where is the nearest tribe?"
     "The Jogo used to live to the east, but they died out and farmers took over..." Ticivius paused, rubbing his chin, muttering to himself. "The Adebe are far in the north mountains, which is really too far for you to be going...maybe you could try the Mudepa. They're a tribe to the northeast. They do a lot of good trading. A little far, though. It was difficult getting to them..." He shrugged. "There really isn't anything closer."
     "Could you show us to this tribe?"
     Ticivius coughed and wheezed dramatically. "I really am too old and in no (cough) shape to be going (wheeze) much of anywhere. But I think I could (cough) manage to find you a map. Follow me." With an exaggerated limping walk, he led Dreamcloud to a small shop on the west side of town situated in between a fortune teller and some sort of magic shop. It was a shoddy wooden building with an awning. He unlocked a primitive looking padlock on the door, leading them into a shop full of bracelets, rugs and feathered dance costumes. He opened a cabinet, taking out a scroll. He unrolled it, showing it to dreamcloud.
     
     "This is a map of Alalart. Up north is the town of Horen, and past that, across the river, is the Mudepa tribe."
     "Is there a bridge, or are we just going to swim across?"
     Ticivius shrugged. "I'm not sure. I haven't been there in a long, long time. I have heard that flood waters washed out the bridge a few years ago. You may have to row over."
     Dreamcloud frowned. "If that is necessary, we will have to try."
     "I suggest you try crossing when the tide is low. Many have attempted to cross at that section and drowned."
     "No matter," said Dreamcloud. "I am the best swimmer in the Gaku tribe, and my two friends can fly."
     "That is good."
     "Alas, that is all the help I can give."
     Dreamcloud nodded. "That is enough." He went to the door.
     "May I suggest something?"
     "What?"
     "You may want to purchase some weapons and equipment for your travels. You may also want to find some allies. The woods to the east, I have heard, are very treacherous and full of deadly beasts that drop out of the trees. You'd best protect yourself. In fact, there is a strange creature in this town that calls himself an `army.' Perhaps you could inquire of his services. He lives in a bunker on the other side of the hedge."
     "We don't have any money," said Dreamcloud.
     Ticivius sighed. "First you get me kicked out of a casino, now you want money!" With a great deal of grumbling, he dug in the cabinet, taking out a small leather bag. He threw it to Dreamcloud.
     Dreamcloud took a look inside the bag and bowed gratefully. He went outside. Nightshade followed.
     They passed the large striped tent, staring at the goods being offered. Blacksmith goods. Produce. Bread. Firewood. Glass.
     "Tunics! Come and get your tunics!" A voice shouted. "Only three rupees!"
     Nightshade turned and saw the female mink. She was waving around old fashioned medieval tunics. She reminded him a lot of the clerk from Rot Topic.
     They kept going. Starflower was sitting on the edge of the fountain with his chin in his paws. He looked up. "Dreamcloud!"
     "Starflower. I found Ticivius. He says that we should go to the northeast to find the Mudepa. That seems to be the best plan."
     Starflower nodded. "That sounds like a good plan."
     "So where did you go?"
     "I went to the Eweniversity. They became upset when I asked about Ticivius. One of them tried to get me to buy archery and metalworking lessons. Then I went north and looked around." He paused. "I found something very strange. A little monster was living inside a dark room in the corner, and when I came in there, he started asking if I had any `bar codes.' He must be running a strange tavern!"
     Nightshade chuckled.
     "What?"
     "Nothing."
     "Well, now what should we do, Dreamcloud?"
     "We need to get prepared. Ticivius has given us 145 rupees. That should buy us something."
     "What should we get first?"
     "Will this be enough money for all of us?" Nightshade asked with a tone of concern. "I won't pretend to understand the economy here, but if our new course is as dangerous as it sounds, then each of us should find something that suits himself in battle. That'll take some experimenting, and some of the shops I've seen charge you for that, if they allow it at all."
     Dreamcloud shrugged. "It depends on the dealer, and whether or not we can haggle well with them."
     Nightshade looked around the market tent. He would have liked to have a pair of blade gauntlets, but he didn't see any there. A merchant was selling scimitars in the southwest corner. All of them were pretty much identical. Curved blades, roughly one foot and ten inches long, sharp, but none with any special cutting edges or ergonomically friendly handles. The only thing that made each blade different was the fact that none of them had been made in a factory.
     He walked around to the other side of the tent and found a vendor selling staffs and rods made of wood. They looked like tree branches carved into walking sticks. Some of them had images engraved in them, like the heads of birds and wizards, skulls and monsters. Some had jewels or glass spheres attached to their tops. They were crafted in sizes between three feet and four feet and ten inches. He decided to get a scimitar. He walked over to a rack, picking one up. The blade was solidly built. Not too light, not too heavy.
     "Thirty five rupees," said the merchant.
     Dreamcloud walked over to the merchant's table. "Thirty five?" he scoffed. "All of these blades look the same. I would only give you twenty five for any of them."
     "They're all hand crafted. Thirty five."
     "I know an elder that can craft swords twice as good as that. Twenty five."
     "If your elder is so good, you should be trying to buy from him. Thirty five."
     "If your scimitars were any good, you'd make them look different. I still stay twenty five."
     "Keep arguing with me and you won't get anything. Thirty five or no deal."
     Dreamcloud sighed. "Fine. Thirty five." He opened the pouch, handing him some rupees.
     "Thirty seven now. Haggling tax."
     "There is no such thing. You said the price was thirty five, and that's what I'm paying."
     "I'm glad you agree," the merchant smiled. He handed Nightshade a scabbard.
     "What about you, Starflower?" Dreamcloud asked. "Would you like one of those?"
     Starflower shook his head. "That's a faqigu weapon. I don't care much for it. Could I get a staff?"
     Dreamcloud frowned. "I could pick up a log from the forest and it would look no different."
     "You are right."
     They walked away from the scimitar vendor, looking at the other merchants' wares. Candles. Melons. Rugs and blankets. Hats. Fishing equipment.
     They found a merchant selling cloth items. Dreamcloud bought a durable looking cloth bag from him and they went on, coming to a merchant selling bows and arrows. Starflower marched up to a display rack, examining the weapons. He gave one of the bows an experimental bend and it snapped in half.
     "Hey!" shouted a lemur sitting behind the sales table. "You break it you buy it!"
     "This is an inferior bow," said Dreamcloud. "You obviously don't use Goleto wood to make them. The ones my tribe makes can withstand more than these can. I shudder to think what you made the bowstring from."
     The lemur frowned. "Get out of here, lousy Gaku! You make me sick!"
     "Gladly. It will help relieve me of the nausea I get when I'm around you." They walked away from the tent.
     "You seem to be interested in armaments," said a low, lispy sounding voice. "May I ask why you need such equipment?"
     Nightshade looked down and saw the black rat, Rodante.
     "We are going east," said Dreamcloud. "I have heard that it is dangerous."
     "The equipment in this village is no good," said Rodante. "If you go northeast to Horen, the weapons are much better. I have heard very good things about the...Moon Rod. Very...good things. They say it is magical."
     "I do not trust charms and spells," said Dreamcloud. "Magic is a very evil business."
     "Ah, true, true...if it is in the wrong hands. But if you...use magic for the right purposes...now what is wrong with that? If evil ones use it for evil...say, like the Huruts, for example...why can't a good, sensible `Gaku' like yourself, use it for the purposes of good?"
     Dreamcloud frowned. "Your words are as oily as a crushed Tokegelo."
     "Ah, you flatter us! You flatter us. Too kind. But think about what I said. In the right hands, what wrong can a little, how you say, white magic do?"
     "Go away. I do not wish to hear any more about this matter."
     "As you wish," Rodante shrugged. "But it's your loss." And as he was turning away, he muttered, "I suppose you don't want to hear about the mercenaries for hire, either."
     "What?" said Dreamcloud.
     "Oh, nothing, nothing. Forget I said anything."
     "What about mercenaries?"
     Rodante turned around, an expression of glee crossing his features. "Do you...really want to hear about them, these mercenaries, then?"
     Dreamcloud nodded. "What can you tell me about them?"
     "Oh, they are only the best mercenaries in the entire world. And they work for so very cheap! Very inexpensive. I have heard only good things about them."
     "Good things? Of what are you referring to?"
     "Excellent things. Amazing adventures. Successful forays into the depths of Hurut territories that reap tons of glittering treasure." The rat was on a roll now. Every line he spoke with accompanied by exaggerated gestures of theatrical quality. "Why, just the other day, Rofe the Meek hired a company of twelve of these mercenaries, voyaging into the mountainous wilderness to the north, crossing through the treacherous territory of the Tepitefi. There were beasts in those mountain passes that would turn your fur and whiskers white, so terrible and ferocious were they. But Rofe marched through there with his eyes set on finding treasure in the vaults of Cekeisa, and he found them, by Qaro. He fought his way through forests filled with brain sucking, stomach ripping Cytrons. He waded through streams and marched through mountain passes filled with fire breathing Amaries, and mischevious Corsas that turned their victims into tiny cakes, and suffered nothing but minor bruises and scrapes. This man, this coward named Rofe the Meek, who could barely defend himself against a wild Kahodi, was able to get all the way down into the caves of Cekeisa, and bring back huge chests of gold and silver and jewels, all thanks to these great mercenaries."
     Dreamcloud crossed his arms, staring at Rodante with suspicion. "They can hold their own against wild Amaries?"
     Rodante nodded.
     "And Curgots are no problem?"
     "Hah! As if a Curgot would have a chance against them!"
     "Show me to these `mercenaries.'"
     "With pleasure. Follow me." Rodante led them to the western side of the town, to a corner surrounded on all sides by tall hedges. Ahead of them was a wide staircase leading down. Rodante led them down the steps, into an underground structure resembling a mining tunnel.
     There wasn't much down there. A series of wooden benches, piles of linen cushions, and that was about it. Rodante led them to the back corner.
     A human boy, roughly ten years of age, sat on a cushion against the back wall. He was dressed in a pair of gray pajamas with padded feet. A teddy bear hung from a chain around his waist.
     There were teddy bears everywhere. All of them were brown, about two feet tall, with glass eyes, plastic noses, and sown mouths.
     Nightshade saw one of their arms move on its own accord. At first, he thought it was a trick of the light, but then another bear grabbed a spear and stood guard in front of the boy.
     The boy got up, looking at the visitors with an air of arrogance. "We are the strongest troopers. For 100 rupees, we will offer you a company of troops for your protection."
     Dreamcloud frowned. "Some mercenaries."
     "Looks can be deceiving," said Rodante. "Ted's troopers are the strongest in the land!"
     "Hmmm..."
     Nightshade didn't say anything. He just stared at the boy's `mercenaries.' There's just no sense in insulting the army of killer teddy bears.
     Dreamcloud rubbed his chin. "Starflower, what do you think?"
     The owl chick shrugged. "They look like they might slow us down."
     "What do you think, Shade?"
     In a low mutter, Nightshade said, "Looks can be decieving. It could be well worth the expense. On the other hand, a true mercenary cannot be trusted. By definition, they're in it for the money. Even if their skills are worth their price, there's always the possibility that an enemy could pay them more to stand down."
     "My mercenaries cannot be bought at any price," said the boy. "I brought them to life with a stone from the river of Poladiqo. They do what I bid them."
     "And what about you?"
     The boy shrugged. "It depends on the enemy."
     "They would force us to slow our pace," said Starflower. "Unless they have a fast transport."
     "I have a Kahodi," said the boy. "Wildfire will be there before the battle starts."
     Dreamcloud narrowed his eyes. "I will buy one company. No more."
     The boy nodded. "Done. One hundred rupees, please."
     Dreamcloud opened the pouch, handing over a handful of coins.
     The boy counted them and bowed. "You won't regret it." He gestured to a stuffed animal with a wooden necklace around its stumpy neck. "Sunshine bear. Go with them."
     The teddy bear bobbed its head and moved to Dreamcloud's side.
     "I thought you said we'd get a company."
     "Not to worry. Sunshine bear has a mirror in that necklace that he can use to summon his friends. We will always be watching."
     Rodante rubbed his paws together unpleasantly. "See? I was telling the truth! These are great mercenaries, yes?"
     "The proof of the Sute is in the eating," Dreamcloud remarked, marching up the stairs.
     "Yes, yes. And with the riches you will gain with Ted's army on your side, you will be able to buy many, many, many bowls of it!"
     Dreamcloud just shook his head and kept walking. Starflower looked at him with disdain. Nightshade ignored him and followed the others. Sunshine bear brought up the rear.
     They walked to the gate of the city and walked out to their Kahodi.
     The sun was now setting, turning a bright red as it bordered on the horizon. While they had been gone, their mount had occupied itself with devouring every blade of grass surrounding the tree it had been tied to. It greeted them with an annoying braying sound.
     "It's thirsty," said Starflower.
     "Yes. It couldn't be helped. We will stop by the Redo and let it drink some."
     The teddy bear tugged on Dreamcloud's leg.
     "What is it."
     It said nothing. It just tried to climb up the frog's body. Dreamcloud shook his head in frustration, picking it up. The stuffed toy climbed onto his shoulders.
     "This is no better than throwing the money down a hole," Dreamcloud muttered, stowing their possessions in the bag.
     They all got on the Kahodi's back. Starflower took the bag, and Nightshade carried the weapons. They left one of the fire pokers behind, since it was far too much to be carrying at this point.
     The Kahodi jackrabbited over to a vast lake beyond a meadow on the edge of the town. Dreamcloud brought the creature to its muddy banks and it drank like it had been running through a desert all day. Once its thirst had been slaked, they were bunny hopping across a wide prairie.
     It became dusk. The land beneath them became bald in patches, interspersed with giant brown pellets peppered with straw. A series of fat eggplant shaped bodies could be seen hopping around in the distance.
     "We are in Kahodi country," said Starflower.
     "Yes," said Dreamcloud. "Let us stop for the night. Before it becomes too dark to see."
     They staked out a spot in the open grassland and started clearing away rocks to make sleeping spots. Dreamcloud gathered a large quantity of dried Kahodi dung, and a few minutes later a fire was going. Sunshine bear laid flat on the ground like a discarded toy.
     "I'm hungry," said Starflower.
     "I know. I am too. But it is too late. We must wait until tomorrow."
     They stared silently at the fire.
     "Shade. You spoke to me about something called a Cordero earlier. What caused you to ask me about this?"
     Nightshade shrugged. "I...saw something this morning. Something came to me and called me by my name. It said it was named Cordero."
     Dreamcloud stared at him, not saying anything. The crackling fire was the only sound for several minutes.
     "I think we're in a movie," said Nightshade. "I keep having dreams about movie producers and actors and special effects production."
     There was a blank expression on the frog's face.
     Starflower looked at him. "I think he's talking about plays. They're...like the corn festival Nomahebi."
     Dreamcloud still looked like he were trying to wrap his mind around the subject, and failing to do so.
     "Elder Speckled Kahodi once told me that life is like the shadows that the fire makes on our tipis during Council Fire, and death is like when the sun rises and we go out beyond the village..." The owl chick shrugged. "Speckled was always confusing when he talked."
     "Indeed, he was confusing." He shook his head.
     They stared at each other, not saying anything for a minute.
     "Tell me, `Shade,'" said Starflower. "What does your name mean?"
     Nightshade stared at him.
     "I was named after a constellation. In the sky, there is a great flower..."
     "And nightshade is a venomous berry," the hybrid said. "You can work out for yourself what that means."
     Dreamcloud nodded. "We have a similar berry that grows at the edge of the north forest."
     Silence.
     Nightshade heard a loud howling sound. A pair of glowing red embers appeared in the dark. A burst of flame shot out of the air, illuminating a large scaly body. It was shaped like a shark, with tail fins and a mouth full of sharp teeth. Its arms were narrow, ending with a set of claws. The flame died, and it became a pair of disembodied red coals again.
     Dreamcloud took out his bow and arrow, preparing himself. Starflower armed himself with a fire poker.
     "Where are our mercenaries?" said Starflower.
     Dreamcloud looked around. The teddy bear was nowhere to be seen. "I knew that was a waste of money."
     "Is that thing intelligent?" said Nightshade. "Can we talk to it?"
     "No. And it's hungry."
     "Well, here's my chance to prove that I'm not totally useless." Nightshade drew his scimitar, folded his wings across his chest, and opened his mouth, emitting a high pitched sound. His sensitive ears picked up two large shapes to the northwest, the fire breather, and something else. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a glimmer of light. He emitted another sound that way and detected a lumpy, diminutive shape, like a tree stump or a rock. It didn't appear to be moving.
     One of the creatures made a howling sound. Starflower let out a startled yell as something slashed his chest. To defend himself, he stabbed in the dark with his fire poker.
     The creature roared, and the owl was unarmed.
     "Starflower! Are you all right?"
     "Yes, Dreamcloud. I am bleeding, but it is not life threatening."
     The frog nocked an arrow and fired. There was a soft thud, but no sign that it did anything.
     "You just shot an arrow in the field, Dreamcloud. Can you see them?"
     "No. And I cannot make a useful torch out of Kahodi dung."
     "Then I will help you." He moved to the edge of the fire, pointing into the dark. "Fire there. Now."
     Dreamcloud pulled back an arrow. "Is it still there?"
     "No. It moved...there." The feathery finger moved to a slightly different area. Dreamcloud fired.
     "No good."
     The frog sighed. "Remember how I taught you to use the bow?"
     Starflower swallowed. "Yes, Dreamcloud."
     The frog thrust the weaponry into the owl's hands. "Remember. Thin edge near the bow. And be careful. There's only five left."
     Starflower fumbled with the arrow a bit, nocked it, and fired. "Ow!"
     "Did you get it?"
     "Yes, but it bounced off...and I hurt my arm."
     Dreamcloud sighed. "Silly child! You've forgotten how to hold the bow!" He pulled the wrist brace off his arm, handing it to Starflower. "Quick. Put this on."
     "But Dreamcloud! It bounced off!"
     "Try it again. Aim somewhere else. We have no other options. And do hold your bow correctly! It loses speed when it scrapes against your arm!"
     Starflower nodded, strapping on the wrist brace. He pulled back another arrow. He fired. "I hit it!"
     "Great! Is it still alive?"
     "...Yes."
     "Damn. Aim for a different spot."
     Starflower put another arrow in the bow, preparing to fire. The creature let out a roar. He stopped.
     "What's going on?"
     "I...see something..."
     "What is it? What?"
     "Ah...I...don't know."
     There was a burst of flame. A burning squatty object went flying through the air, landing a few feet away from the dung fire.
     Nightshade stared at it. It looked like a fried marshmallow in the shape of a teddy bear. The monster roared again. A second burning shape went flying past him.
    So much for these 'grand warrior' mercenaries, Nightshade thought. Giving his scimitar a half-turn in his hand, the hybrid speared a teddy bear on the point of the blade. He let out another burst of soudwaves to discern the location of the creature, then launched the burning bear back at it.
    The flaming glob of melted polyester fibers stuck to the creature like a glob of glue. For a split second, fire illuminated the dark and one could see the scaly red body with its tiny arms and fish-like tail, seemingly floating a foot above the ground. The fire went out. There was a deafening roar.
    Nightshade could sense the air being disturbed. A second later, he felt the creature's hot breath pouring down on him. It seemed to be alive, and angry.
    Nightshade swung his sword around, turned toward the beast's breath and jumped up, accidentally impaling the creature through its upper palate. He felt the creature's upper teeth bearing down into the meat of his furry arm, then something sticky and wet gushing over his hand.
    The great mouth closed around his forearm and elbow. For a minute, he felt searing pain, but then the mouth stopped and he felt the weight of the creature pressing down on him. The hot breath came out in smaller gusts, then not at all.
    After a bit of struggling and prying, Nightshade freed his arm from the creature's mouth. He got his arm out, but the sword was stuck fast.
    He heard a triumphant cheer coming from the other side of the fire. Nightshade looked around and saw Dreamcloud and Starflower at the edge of the fire ring, standing over something big, dark and lumpy. He approached them. "What happened? Did you kill it?"
    Dreamcloud nodded. "Yes, friend. We lost all our arrows, and many mercenaries, but the beast is dead." He touched Starflower's shoulder. "Here. Let me tend to your wounds." The two went by the fire, and Dreamcloud went about applying a salve and plant leaves to the owl chick's cuts and injuries. Once finished, he said, "There. Now rest, child. Your wounds need to heal."
    "I am hungry, Dreamcloud."
    Dreamcloud sighed. "I know. So am I. I will see if there is anything edible on these dead creatures. If not, I shall hunt up some Kahodi meat when it is light." He turned to the hybrid. "Shade. May I use your knife?"
    Nightshade shrugged and handed it to him.
    Dreamcloud bent over the dead creatures for several minutes. Nightshade could see his outline moving as he jabbed and sawed at the creature's frame. After some time, he came away from the dark, bringing out an irregularly cut chunk of something black and bloody. He impaled it on a spear, roasting it over the fire.
    The odor was unpleasant. It smelled of skunk and old tuna. At first, Starflower begged Dreamcloud to stop cooking, but the smells eventually gave way to a slightly more tolerable sausagey odor. The other scents were still present, but not as strong as before.
    Dreamcloud set the meat down on the dirt, divided it, and distributed it to his friends.
    "This will make us sick for sure," said Starflower, picking at the scales.
    "I have a stomach cure in my pouch," said Dreamcloud. "And a cure for poisons. If this creature can be used for meat, we need not harm the Kahodi. Pepuki was scared badly enough by what we did last winter."
    Starflower nodded. "Yes, Mima was a good Kahodi. It was a shame we had to eat her." He bit into the meat.
    Nightshade sniffed the meat and took a bite. It was oily and extremely tough. The flavor was like salmon and beef jerky. He spent a great deal of time chewing and trying to digest it.
    The meal ended, and they sat staring at the fire in silence. Starflower went to sleep, then Dreamcloud. Nightshade stayed awake, grooming his claws. The sun came up, then he also fell asleep.
    Nightshade saw a flash, then a giant sized image of a bandit faced film director. "Nightshade begins as a paper pusher at the GRS. He starts reading this book, and he gets pulled into another world. Once there, he gets trained in battle by a group of Gaku tribesmen and then he's sort of sucked into this wild adventure that he's not quite sure he can escape."
    The fox in the Hawaiian shirt appeared on the screen. "I had a lot of fun with this project. The directors were really great to work with. I learned a lot."
    The camera showed a scene of the fox in a fencing outfit, practicing swordfighting with another figure in a fencing outfit.
    "Rocky Spyker spent six weeks training for this film," said a narrator. "This included rigorous sword training sessions with master swordsman Harron Skonk LePew."
    "Action!"
    The camera showed a movie set made to look like Rudoria's city walls. A bloodhound sat on a moving camera stand, flying over the shrubs, to a tree containing a crow and a familiar looking fox.
    The stage lights, the camera and boom mike disappeared and the camera displayed a scene from up in the tree branches.
    "You're bluffing," said the crow. "I'd sooner eat you!"
    "Are you sure?"
    The crow laughed. "Your teeth are far too dull to even make the attempt!"
    Not dropping his hungry expression, the fox said, "If you're really willing to take that chance, then shut up and get on with it."
    The drew out a rapier, lunging at the fox. The fox pulled back a branch, releasing it so that it recoiled upward into the crow's chin. The crow let out a shrieking sound, swinging at him with his sword. The fox jumped backward off the branch, grabbed it in mid-fall, and swung under it, kicking the crow from beneath. The crow squawked and fell off the tree with an exaggerated thudding sound one only hears in kung fu movies and Peanuts cartoons.
    The next scene showed the fox facing a giant scaly beast. Drawing a sword, he turned toward the beast and leapt into the air with a fierce yell, bringing the blade of his sword down toward the head of the beast.
    "Cut! Perfect!"
    The fox relaxed, dropping his stern expression. He laughed, possibly at some joke that only he and the director was in on.
    The camera cut to a scene inside the Rudoria casino. Dreamcloud was at the roulette table, trying to convince Ticivius to leave the game and help him. The frog grabbed the silver ball from the wheel, hurling it across the room. It hit an oil lamp, knocking it to the floor.
    A puddle of liquid spread on the floor and ignited. The burning puddle spread wider and wider. A table caught fire, then a purple satin curtain, then everything else was ablaze. Dreamcloud grabbed Ticivius, pulling him away from the table. The squirrel managed to scoop several baubles into his robe before he found himself stumbling backwards to the door. The next scene showed them running out the city gates as everything in Rudoria burst into flame.
    "`The Rudoria Fire: Behind the Scenes,' when our special on the making of the Brotherhood of Cordero continues!"
    There was a bright flash, and Nightshade found himself lying on dirt in front of the dung fire. Beyond the ashes he saw Dreamcloud and Starflower, cooking pieces of meat over the flames. The corpses of two ugly, scaly monstrosities with mouths full of shark teeth lay on the ground a few feet away.
    Nightshade sat up and stretched. What a weird dream!
    The frog leaned over him. "Good. You are awake. Let us eat and continue our journey."
    The two Gaku placed the chunks of meat on the plates from Dreamcloud's bag. They handed one to Nightshade. They sang a song, then began to eat.
    Starflower opened a pouch hanging from his waist, bringing out a small stone carving of a bird of prey. "Dreamcloud, what is this?"
    The frog stared at it. "Where did you find this?"
    Starflower shrugged. "It was on the ground, covered in dirt."
    "I...do not know."
    Nightshade stared at it. "Can I see that?"
    Starflower shrugged and handed it over.
    The hybrid squinted at the sculpture. The material was something like quartz or onyx. There was a a foreign symbol etched into the outstretched wing.
    Nightshade stared at the stone in pure shock. "Where did this..? How did this..? This was my mother's!"
    Dreamcloud and Starflower stared at each other.
    "I found this on the ground," said the owl chick. "I do not know from whence it came."
    "Did you live in this land before?"
    Nightshade shook his head. "I don't think so."
    "Perhaps it is merely something that resembles something from your world."
    "At any rate, I only found it on the ground," said Starflower. "There is nothing special about the soil I found it on. It was among the grass and dung. No special landmarks. Nothing."
    Nightshade stared at the object. "This is amazing. I've been looking at this thing for years."
    Starflower shrugged.
    "We should get moving," said Dreamcloud. "We need to get to Horen."
    "Dreamcloud! I see something!"
    The frog stood up, walking out in the field a few paces. "What is it, Starflower? What do you see?"
    "It..." The owl chick went over to where he stood, squinting. He pointed to a small shape in the distance. "There!"
    "Gacodo!" Dreamcloud shouted. "Who goes there?"
    No response.
    Nightshade got up to look.
    The shape became larger and larger, then they could see it plainly as it strolled through the grass and weeds.
    "It is another one of those bears," said Starflower.
    "Yes. They fight bravely, but are not the best."
    The shape approached them, a rounded fuzzy toy fashioned in the shape of a bear, its unmoving glass eyes staring blankly ahead as it waddled. Its rounded paw held a rolled up piece of parchment. It approached Dreamcloud, offering it to him.
    The frog opened the wax seal on the outside, examining the contents. A baffled look crossed his features. He handed the paper to Starflower.
    The small gray beak poked over the parchment, eyes narrowing as it read the lines. "They say their contract has expired. They say that if you give them some more money, they'll offer another company for our protection."
    Dreamcloud sighed. "Some protection." He looked down at the bear. "Tell that boy that we don't need your kind of mercenary."
    The bear's head bowed down low. It turned and walked away into the field.
    "We should get going now."
    "Dreamcloud. Kepuqu is dead."
    Dreamcloud nodded. "Yes. These...creatures killed her. We must find another mount."
    Starflower flapped up into the air, circling the area. "There!" he cried. "To the northeast!" He settled back down on the ground. "I found a pair sleeping. We may be able to get one of them."
    "We must be quiet."
    Nightshade followed the two as they rushed silently along through a section of tall grass. They slowed their pace as they approached a pair of speckled brown-gray Kahodi asleep beneath a spreading mushroom shaped tree.
    Dreamcloud approached one of the creatures, gently stroking its fur. It sniffed, then awoke with a start, acting as if it were to rise and bolt away. Dreamcloud took something out of his pouch, passing it under the Kahodi's nose. Its vast mouth opened and its tongue came out, licking the frog's hand. The other Kahodi sniffed and awoke, staring at them.
    Dreamcloud petted the creature, locking eyes with it. They sat still, motionless, staring at one another for what seemed like hours.
    At long last, Dreamcloud climbed on the creature's back, taking hold of its large, floppy ears. He gestured to Starflower and Dreamcloud to get on.
    The creature moved with uncertainty at first, but then rode as the other one had previously. Dreamcloud took it back to their camp, loaded up their possessions, and set off toward the north. They passed the bloodied corpse of their previous mount, but decided to leave the saddle where it lay. The material was stained and torn to begin with.
    They rode across another vast meadow, coming to another rural landscape occupied by farms. The plants there were slightly different. There was milo and tobacco and fenced in enclosures containing Kahodi of a tamer sort.
    Another town came into view. It had an Arabesque style like Rudoria, but no temple could be seen above the wall. As they came nearer to the gate, they encountered a crowd of figures in robes and cowls and pointy hats. They were short and tall, fat and thin, of all kinds of species and races.
    "So this is where we will supposedly find the best weapons," said Dreamcloud. "Let us hope this is not a pitiful deception like the mercenaries were."
    They dismounted and tied the Kahodi at a tree outside the gate. They passed through the crowd and came to a packed marketplace filled with vendors of various types. Quite a few were selling items advertised as being magical. Magic cures for wounds and diseases, some allegedly curing death itself. Rods, rings, amulets, shields, weapons, all with some purported magical property or another. Potions, herbs, herbal teas, herbal remedies, a veritable flea market of curio standing side by side next to items of a more mundane type. There were a good quantity of sturdy bows, food and drink, helmets, livestock, breastplates, swords and such, fruit, vegetables and other produce, pipes, clothing, and seedy looking money lenders. They wandered the stands, the displays, the tents, examining the wares. Smells of baked goods wafted through the air.
    MAP OF HOREN
    "Well," said Dreamcloud. "We're here. And we have eight rupees left."
    "And what are we going to get with that?"
    "I do not know. Not much, I suppose. I regret having hired those mercenaries."
    "Well this is a fair mess!" said Starflower. "We should have just kept on going east and forgotten about the town!"
    Dreamcloud rubbed his chin. "Well, let's see what we can get."
    "When this episode is over, I imagine we'll all have regrets of one sort or the next," Nightshade said, thinking of his sword. "For myself, it wouldn't be the first time. But all we can do at the moment is push forward with what we have. There's no harm in looking around, and if we keep an eye open for bargains, we might be able to find something we can use. If nothing else, we should at least be able to buy a meal."
    Dreamcloud nodded. "Then let's look around and see what we can find."
    They wandered around the large tent in the center of the town square, passing stalls full of Kahodi and other animals. They came to a place containing games of chance, beyond which a building with a sign reading `Messenger' could be seen.
    "Life insurance!" a familiar sounding voice cried.
    Nightshade turned his head and saw a gray rat dressed in a white doublet and black breeches. He stood in front of a small card table, waving around a booklet of papers. A large brown gorilla sat behind the table, making monkeyshines at passers-by.
    "Life insurance!" The rat walked up to a two legged deer, tugging on its robe. "You sir! Did you know there's a five hundred pound gorilla in the room?"
    The deer looked back and forth. "Excuse me?"
    "Ungh! Ungh!" said the gorilla.
    "Oh, don't mind him. He just wants to know if your family is ensured. You know, not being insured is like having that five hundred pound gorilla hanging over your shoulder sometimes!"
    "I'm sorry, I'm not interested," said the deer, quickly walking away.
    The rat dashed up to Dreamcloud. "You sir!" He squinted at him. "Do I know you from somewhere?" He paused, staring at Starflower. "You look very..." His eyes moved to Nightshade. His mouth fell open. "Well I'll be swizzled! Nightshade! I've been looking all over the place for you! Where have you been?"
    "Oh, here, there and everywhere," Nightshade replied casually. "I didn't think I'd run into you again."
    The rat smiled. "It's good to see you, friend. Good to see you." He gestured to his clothes. "Do you like my outfit? That girl in Rudoria set me up with it. You remember Melissa, right? That cashier from Rot Topik? Well, she's working at a clothing shop in Rudoria now. She asked me about you."
    "Ungh, ungh."
    "Oh right. We've been lugging your things around. We figured you might need some of that stuff you gave us, so we decided to bring some of it back. We had to sell a few things just to get by while we were here, but we kept most of it."
    "Oop, ungh."
    "Well, I guess I should explain that some of the objects...looked kinda funny when we brought them through the movie screen, but maybe that's an improvement." He shrugged. "So how have you been doing?"
    "Fairly well, or so I'd like to think," Nightshade responded. "Aside from being a stranger in a strange land, I've been in my element: Living wild, sleeping rough. I could get used to this, except that...never mind."
    "Well, okay." Templeton paused. "Hey, you know, I'm kinda stuck here. I'm guessing you probably are too. I thought we might, I don't know, set up some kind of shop and try to sell stuff. I'm not having much luck with this insurance thing, but maybe we could brainstorm on something. We've got a fair amount of rupees right now. We've got a place in that inn back there. I'm thinking we could try farming or cobbling shoes or something. And maybe if we make enough money, we can buy a house outside town or whatever. Hey, Melissa might even drop by from time to time. She says she moves around a lot. What do you think? Does that sound like a good idea?"
    Dreamcloud crossed his arms, staring down at the rat, saying nothing.
    Templeton glanced at Nightshade's eyes, then looked away. "Okay, so maybe those aren't the best ideas. They're only ideas." He shrugged, looking at him again. "If you don't like that idea we can do something else. Whatever you think is a good idea. I'm open to suggestions."
    "Excuse me for interrupting," said Dreamcloud. "But I have something I wish to say."
    Nightshade looked at the frog. "Okay?"
    A look of bafflement briefly crossed Dreamcloud's face.
    "Um...go ahead?"
    Dreamcloud nodded, clearing his throat. "Shade? You have been a worthy ally. I understand that this is your friend from the...scream, and I do not wish force you to separate..." He sighed. "But Starflower and I cannot stay here long. We are Gaku, and we must bring honor back to our tribe. We must be going east soon."
    For a while, Nightshade looked from Dreamcloud to Templeton, saying nothing, knowing that this would be the hardest decision he'd ever make in his life. "I... I can't forget that I owe Templeton and Bongo my life," he told Dreamcloud. "If not for these two, I wouldn't even be standing here right now. But on the other hand," he said, turning to Templeton, "I've never goldbricked anything. I knew when I stepped into this that I'd be seeing it through to its end, just like everything else I've done. So I hope you understand that I have to ask both of you; is there any specific reason why we can't all go together?"
    "He wants to settle down here," said Dreamcloud. "And I do not. We are in search of the Mudepa."
    "I do not like this town," said Starflower. "It is full of useless objects and phonies."
    Templeton looked up at the sky for a minute, rubbing his head. "Well, um, that is..." He looked at Nightshade. "It's not like I belong in this strange place anyway." Sigh. "But it's dangerous out there. There's all sorts of beasties and ghouls creeping about."
    "Ipple sopp opple!" the gorilla grunted, slamming a fist into its palm. "Kungle. Glup!"
    Templeton shook his head. "You may be ready, Bongo, but I'm not."
    "Guck umble pugug!" said Bongo.
    The rat bowed his head, nodding. His tail lay flat on the ground.
    "Gip gimble bum umble gig uggle."
    Sigh. "You're right, Bongo. You're absolutely right."
    "Smugg ig. Ging imp ingle gump ump bumble!"
    Templeton's mouth fell open. "You really think so?"
    "Ging! Gobble sop!"
    A grin appeared beneath the rodent's whiskers. "That's inspiring!" He wiped away a tear.
    The gorilla patted him on the back.
    "All right. I'll go with you guys."
    "Migg gig. Googelek."
    "Of course we'll give that to him. It's only right." Taking a key off a chain hanging around his neck, Templeton led Nightshade over to a wooden chest situated next to the card table. He unlocked it, revealing its contents.
    NIGHTSHADE'S STUFF
    "So...what do you want to do with this stuff?"
    "All right," Nightshade said. "As of this moment, we're working as a team. That means if there's something in this box that any of you know how to use, and can easily carry, then we're taking it with us. After we've grabbed what we need here, we sell the rest and buy new equipment to augment what we have. Templeton and Bongo, you're with me. Starflower goes with Dreamcloud.
    "Remember," the hybrid admonished. "We don't know how long we'll need this money to last us, so don't buy anything on a whim. Play to your strengths. If you can fight, then find your optimum weapon. If you're best with your fists, then look for a pair of battle gauntlets. If you can't fight, then focus on armor. Once we're done with that, we'll meet back here and consider what else we'll need. Any objections?"
    "Yes," said Dreamcloud. "Which chieftain died and made you the leader?"
    "Dreamcloud!" Starflower hissed. "I do not think he intended to be rude. He is merely offering us gifts. It is not necessary to obey him. He is a foreigner, after all."
    The frog nodded. After a long pause, he said, "Thank you, Shade. I will make use of these gifts."
    Templeton scratched his head. "Well, if you insist on using this stuff up, I know a few places we could sell some of these items at." He knelt down and dug a cluster of certificates framed in gold foil out of the chest. "These furniture vouchers won't do us much good if we're going to be moving around a lot, right?"
    Nightshade shrugged. "I guess not."
    "So we can sell this courtyard table, this old chair, and these beds." He frowned as he read one of them. "Except this cabin bed voucher. I tried selling that at Droog's and he looked at me like I were a Martian. Maybe it's not good in this time period." He stood up. "I'm going to Droog's for a minute. Watch the chest."
    Starflower reached in the chest, taking out a creepy looking skull. "What are we going to do with this?"
    A glowing green light came out of the skull's eye sockets. It let out an eerie chuckle, its jaw flapping like it were alive. Starflower was so surprised that he dropped it. The jaw broke off. A tiny speaker and wires fell out.
    Nightshade could see LED lights dangling out the eye holes. He chuckled.
    Starflower still looked pale and frightened. He backed away. "What horrid magic is this?"
    "It's just a cheap gimmick," said Nightshade. "It's not magic. See the wires? You just broke it."
    "So...the spell is broken now?"
    "Uh, yeah. Yeah. The spell is broken. It's okay. It's not going to hurt you."
    Starflower sighed in relief, going back to the box. He brought out a small, antique looking book, cracking open the cover. He flipped through the pages, squinting at the block letters.
    "What is that?" said Dreamcloud.
    Starflower shrugged. "It is a book. There is something called a `printing press' that allows animals to print large quantities of written things at once."
    "And what is in this one?"
    "It's called The Hand of Lady Redtail." Starflower turned to the first page and began reading. "Helen Redtail was considered by many to be a most interesting individual, and quite noteworthy in many respects. Descended from the highly esteemed Von Lepus and Northern Redtail families, Helen was an inheritor of a large estate, studied in the realms of law and governmental politics, and had a refined appetite for the arts..."
    "That's...that's enough," said Nightshade. "Don't read any more."
    "Are you sure?" said the owl. "It could be interesting."
    "No. That's okay. No thank you."
    Dreamcloud shrugged and put the book back. He took out a black box with a cord. "What's this?"
    "It's a digital alarm clock," said Nightshade.
    "What's it for?"
    "For telling time."
    "Isn't that what the sun is for?"
    "Well, sometimes you have to be somewhere at nine o'clock and..."
    "Nine o'clock? Is that at sunrise?"
    "Sort of."
    "That doesn't sound very useful."
    "Well, I suppose it wouldn't be for you. And it does need electricity."
    "What's that?"
    "Never mind."
    "Perhaps we can use it like a sling," Dreamcloud offered. "Or a bolo."
    Starflower picked the clock up by the cord, giving the box a few practice twirls. "You may be right, Dreamcloud."
    The gray rat came back with a small bag of money. "I got rid of a bed and a piece of courtyard furniture, but they don't want the other tickets. At least we have some more money now."
    They dug through the chest, seeing what else could be sold. They pulled out a few cures for petrification, bottle rockets, food packets, a first semester waiver for Gardenia College, casino chips and a hunter's horn. The items were either unsellable or things that could be useful in battle, so they put them back in the box.
    "Well," said Templeton. "I suppose now we should go equipment shopping like Nightshade suggested."
    They wandered the market. Nightshade went around the various stalls and booths, checking to see if anyone had flexible armor his size, battle gauntlets, or a scimitar. He passed the bow shop, then took a glance in the armor shop. He bought a pair of metal gauntlets, but couldn't see any other armor that was very good for winged individuals, so he went on, strolling past the pipe shop, an art shop, and a place that sold shields. He saw a thin looking wooden shield and a steel shield that looked a bit too heavy to carry, so he wandered some more. Loans. Rings. Maps. Candles. Rods. Baker. Jewelry. Gambling. He looked in the shield shop again. There was copper shield molded in the shape of a lion's head. He thought it looked useful, but a bit thin, so he passed on it. He went on. Trader. Outfitter. Tea. He noticed Dreamcloud was spending a great deal of time in the bow shop. He shrugged and let him continue browsing.
    The others came to him, telling him about a number of items they wanted to buy. They seemed to believe that they were all absolutely necessary. They picked up a great deal of weapons, food, and other items, and Nightshade had to convince them that they didn't need to get all of it. Since he was the guy with the money, he forced them to make a decision and leave the other things behind. They still ended up spending a large sum at the various merchants.
    The group met back up at Templeton's table.
    "I still think that dance shield would have been a benefit to the Dance of Sunshine," said Dreamcloud.
    "We can only carry so much," said Nightshade. "And it doesn't protect you in battle."
    Dreamcloud frowned. "Perhaps I can get it at a later date."
    "And what was wrong with the wine?"
    "It has been difficult enough in battle as it is," said Nightshade. "We don't need you dulling your senses."
    "I can function normally, even with a few drinks."
    "Still, I'd prefer if you didn't."
    "Ki low, bongo po lee oh," said Bongo.
    "No, no, no," Templeton replied. "Now what would you have done with a hand blender?"
    "Kibong kilow, google geegle gimp ig bumple."
    "No, the butter churn was really heavy. We're not trudging that around with us."
    "Gick ick ock oock gek ek!"
    "Well I don't care if you could carry it. It's too much stuff to be carrying around."
    "Ig gog giggle."
    "Well I suppose so, but what would we do with all that food?"
    "Gick ock."
    "But then you'd get a stomach ache."
    "Glawp giggoo."
    "Now, now. You heard what he said about the wine. No mead for you, my friend."
    "Ih ip ig ungh gig gumple."
    "I don't care if it makes you look like Mr. T. It was gold and it cost a lot of money. And that diamond bracelet didn't look good on you."
    "Ungh, ungh." Bongo walked on his knuckles, away from the rat.
    "Well," said Dreamcloud. "I suppose we are adequately prepared now. We should start traveling before it gets dark."
    "Before we go," said Templeton. "I would like to send a message to Melissa. I think she'd like to know where we went."
    Nightshade nodded. "That's fine."
    "Gib ib ubble blop!"
    "Oh nonsense," said Templeton. "Quiverwing is just a story. There isn't anybody on this planet with that name."
    "Goo awk goom ma gow."
    "Well it's probably a scam. Send him or her a message if you want, but it's probably a waste."
    "Go ahead," said Nightshade. "If it's not a scam, we can always use more allies." He handed them some money and the two walked off.
    "It is good that you are able to meet your friends once again," Dreamcloud muttered. "I admit I may have been a bit...harsh with you before."
    "It's okay. No harm done. They're here with me now."
    The three sat down, watching the odd characters walking past the table, robed figures with hoods concealing their faces, pygmies in loincloths and painted or tattooed bodies juggling knives, rings and axes, fire breathers, contortionists and strolling minstrels.
    Bongo and Templeton returned to the group. "Okay. All done. Where to next?"
    "The new tribe is to the east," said Dreamcloud. "We should go now."
    Everyone gathered their possessions up, stowing the excess in the wooden chest. Once the wooden box was closed and locked, Bongo picked it up and carried it under his armpit like a football.
    Nightshade followed Dreamcloud as he led the others through the market, pushing through the crowd, to the front gate. They went out.
    "Now!"
    A large net fell from the top of the city wall, trapping Nightshade and the others underneath a thick mesh of interwoven hemp fibers. A group of creatures in dark clothing started securing the net with hammers and stakes.
    "At last! I have caught you!" The fox in the pirate outfit jumped out in front of the group, leering at them. "I told you I was getting a blanket! Not so tough without your wings, are you?" He leaned in closer, peeking in. "Oh! You've brought me gifts! Splendid!" He gestured to Bongo and Templeton. "Are these your friends?" He laughed.
    A crow in a doublet flapped down next to the net, mocking them with braying squawks. "We've got you good this time! Now who's going to get roasted on a spit?"
    "Hey, Bongo," Nightshade said derisively, "Have you ever seen such a cowardly bunch? It's so pathetic that it's almost endearing. I mean, you could probably tear this net in two with no trouble, and then where would these guys be?"
    The gorilla shook its head. "Ki lo bo ko."
    "He doesn't think he can do it," Templeton whispered to the hybrid. "This is tough rope."
    "What about that power charm we bought?"
    The rat shrugged. "You think that thing actually works?"
    "Goo awk goom ma gow."
    "Well I suppose so," said Templeton in low tones. "But it would take some time to saw through this, even with that axe."
    "Gimmel iggle ip soggle opp sog!"
    "Now, now. Let's not give up hope so soon, Bongo!"
    "It's one thing thing to think you can't do it, Bongo," Nightshade hissed. "It's quite another to not try when your life depends on it."
    "Guk uk ig gig gumble!"
    "He says you didn't ask," said Templeton.
    Nightshade frowned and shook his head. "Okay? Um, Bongo...could you do something about this net?"
    Bongo nodded and grunted. "Eegle gump se mook!" With a roar, the gorilla reached down, grabbed the bottom of the net, and pulled. The stakes came out of the ground and the net came free. Bongo threw the net aside, flinging dirt everywhere in the process.
    "Ask and ye shall receive!" Templeton said with a smirk. "He did the same exact thing at the McDonalds Playland last week."
    The crow squawked in fright, flying over the city wall.
    An alligator in a merchant's suit drew out a scimitar, stepping toward Dreamcloud. "I've got dibs on their goods."
    "Not if I whip them before you do," said a big crocodile standing next to him. It wrung its hands, giving Starflower a nasty smile. "I can crush their heads like peanuts."
    Dreamcloud took out the hunter's axe he'd purchased, holding it out in front of him. Starflower brought out a musket.
    There was a fluttering sound. Nightshade turned and saw the crow fly down, accompanied by a hard faced hawk in leather armor.
    A cat in robber's clothing cracked his knuckles and approached Nightshade, slamming his fist into his palm. "I've been waiting a long time for this!" He lunged forward, swinging at the hybrid's head.
    Nightshade stepped to the side and slammed a gauntleted fist into the cat's skull. It fell to the ground, unconscious.
    "All right, bar fighter," the fox said, tossing his weapon aside. "Let's have a bar fight. Mano y mano. Fold your wings, throw aside those gauntlets, and show me how tough you really are." He raised his fists up, curling them towards his muzzle in an old-timey boxer's position.
    "One thing you should know about me, Mr. Fluffypants," the hybrid said, folding his wings across his chest. Lunging foward into a crouch at the fox's feet, Nightshade straightened up, pushing his armored knuckles up beneath his foe's elbows and into his stomach. "I never face anyone on their terms alone!"
    As the fox doubled over in pain, he opened his mouth and buried his teeth in the Nightshade's arm. He raised both arms, slamming his fists into the hybrid's sides, knocking the wind out of him. Opening a bloody mouth, he coughed, "Neither do I." He reached in his belt, drawing out a stiletto.
    "Fine." Ignoring the pain in his arm, Nightshade leapt sideways, snatching up the fox's fallen sword from the ground with his good hand. Turning back toward his foe, he stepped forward, holding the blade in front of him. "Bring it on."
    The fox threw a clod of dirt in the hybrid's face, then kicked his legs out from under him. He stomped on a gauntlet, prying the sword out of his hand. "Mine!"
    Bang. There was a loud cracking sound, then a gurgling roar as the crocodile fell to the ground.
    The fox was so startled by the commotion that he turned his head to look. "Gloomp! What is happening!"
    Nightshade swung his legs toward the fox's feet, knocking his foe to the ground. Wasting no time, the hybrid launched himself onto the fox, punching and pounding at every inch of the canid that he could reach. The fox growled and snapped his teeth at him, but as the gauntleted fists slammed into his skull, he became subdued, then unconscious.
    Nightshade stood up and looked around.
    The crocodile was on the ground with its chest blown open, bits of shrapnel stuck everywhere.
    Starflower was swinging his musket around like a club. The alligator slashed at him with its scimitar. The owl chick blocked it with the musket barrel, then rammed the creature's jaw with the handle. He swung the weapon around, clocking the alligator on the side of the head. It fell to the ground.
    Bongo had the crow by the neck, using him like a weapon. He kept swinging it through the air, trying to hit the hawk, but the hawk kept flapping away.
    The gray rat had a small gun-like device in his paw, aiming it at the bird. A blue ray shot out of the weapon, going off into the sky somewhere. "Oops!"
    There was a low whooshing sound. Seconds later, the hawk let out a dismayed screech as a digital alarm clock slammed into his head, shattering to bits in the process. He fell to the ground, knocked out cold.
    "We must go now," said Dreamcloud.
    They went out to the Kahodi. After feeding and watering it, Dreamcloud put the new saddle on it. He looked at the saddle, then looked at Nightshade's companions. He frowned. "This isn't going to work. It was awkward when we had three riding."
    "Well how do you propose we solve the situation?" said Templeton.
    "That is the question of the day. How."
    "I... I don't know how to say this, Templeton," Nightshade said. "Inspiring speeches aside, before you come with us, you need to know that the wilderness is a world without borders or bounderies, where just about anything can happen to you, but almost nothing happens for you. You understand? If you come with us, you'll have to fight for what you get. Sometimes you'll have to fight to keep it. Are you sure you can handle that? Fighting to survive, day in and day out?"
    Templeton swallowed. "Wow. That sounds seriously scary!"
    "Guk uk ig gig gumble," said Bongo.
    "Well, yes, we do have some nice weapons. I suppose we could hold them off."
    "Geebly eeg geegle."
    "Yes, but you're heavy. They might be able to fly and carry me for awhile, but you're too big for that."
    "Mump ump bump."
    "You're not seriously considering riding on the back of that thing, are you?"
    "Beeble imp sok oogle koloma."
    "Well, I guess if Nightshade and the owl decide to fly, there would be a bit of room on there for you. But I'm not sure if they want to do that."
    "Ig snaggle ob kibble."
    "You're talking about taming a wild beast. How are we supposed to do that?"
    "Google ig snaggle ob."
    "Buy one?" Templeton paused. "Maybe we should ask Nightshade. He's the fur with the money." He approached the hybrid. "We're thinking about tagging along. We have to get home somehow. Maybe we could help each other out."
    "Then I'll make damn sure you live through it. I always repay my debts."
    Templeton nodded. "Bongo has some ideas. He's thinking that maybe we could either find someone who is selling a tame version of one of those riding beasts or something. Either that, or you make use of those wings on your back."
    Nightshade stared at him.
    "We were thinking that if you and the owl fly, we could either ride on the creature, or one of you could carry me, or something like that."
    "Blump ubble ingle stung."
    "But if you can't do that, could you possibly leave something like a trail of bread crumbs or go really slowly or something so we can catch up?"
    "Ibble umph mumble."
    "Or maybe send up smoke signals when you camp so we know where you are?" He shrugged. "We're just trying to figure out how to catch up with you. I've seen how fast those things move. What do you think? Do any of those ideas sound good to you?"
    "You're asking the wrong guy, Templeton." Nightshade turned to the frog. "What do you think, Dreamcloud? You're the expert here on the ways of Kahodi-tamers."
    Dreamcloud crossed his arms, staring at the rat. He looked like he were fighting down a laugh.
    "They wouldn't last-"
    Dreamcloud elbowed the owl chick, then whispered into the side of his head.
    Starflower giggled, then sighed. "We are out of Kahodi country. There is no way we can find him a suitable ride."
    "I saw some Kahodi for sale," said Templeton.
    "Those are broken beasts," said Starflower.
    "Do you even know how to ride one?"
    Templeton swallowed. "Not really?"
    "Then it would dishonor the spirit of the creature."
    "Can't I go somewhere and get Kahodi lessons?"
    Starflower shook his head. "I am not carrying a gorilla."
    "Ungh oop."
    "What?"
    "He says he's not going to be carried by a puny owl." The rat shrugged. "I apologize. Bongo can be rude sometimes."
    "Goomba poop."
    "Of course, Bongo. He says you should be carrying me instead."
    Starflower frowned, staring at him. He grabbed the rat under the armpits, flapping his wings. The two went up in the air a few yards. Templeton looked frightened. He started gasping and screaming until Starflower flapped down to the ground again.
    "You are the one who made the suggestion. If you do not wish to be carried this way, you should not have suggested the idea."
    Templeton sighed. "Maybe I can close my eyes."
    "You must eat many things. You make my wings tired with your heaviness."
    The rat squeezed his belly, frowning. "Well excuse me!"
    "He could do well with some exercise," said Dreamcloud. "We should make them run alongside us."
    "Look, mister owl. I think I can handle being carried if you want to do that."
    "I think you could handle losing some weight!"
    Bongo growled angrily, beating his chest. "Booga oop ip!" He roared.
    "Now, now, settle down, Bongo. I'm sure we'll figure something out." He shook his head. "How hard is it to ride a Kahodi? I mean, you guys obviously know something about them. Couldn't you, I don't know, give me a lesson or something?"
    Dreamcloud sighed. "A broken beast would not be able to keep up with ours."
    "It's better than walking, though, right?"
    Starflower shook his head.
    "You have a point. It would be swifter."
    "Perhaps it would also give the Kahodi the kind of life it deserves, Dreamcloud."
    "Indeed."
    "And he is heavy, Dreamcloud."
    The slimy green face scrunched up. "Very well. Let us go and find one." He tied the Kahodi to a tree. "Rest easy, Cono," he said, petting it. "We will return." He looked at Templeton. "Where did you see this Kahodi, rat?"
    Templeton paused. "It was outside the town. I think, two or so cabins down on the left side of the road.
    "Bunga num numba?"
    "Do you think those thugs will be giving us any more problems?"
    "I certainly hope not. But I would not mind giving them a second lesson." He dug out his weapons. "Let us go."
    They crossed a grassy field, coming to the dirt road. They maneuvered around squatty druid-like figures in robes, coming to the left side of the path. A couple young calico cats were kissing under a tree. The group passed them, walking past a corn field and a log cabin with a long wooden fence.
    "Is it here?"
    "No. I think it was further on."
    They passed a field of milo and then a field of weeds. Smoke could be seen rising up from it. The group traveled on, past a shed, a cotton field, then another cabin.
    "Where is the Kahodi?"
    Templeton stopped. "I thought it was around here somewhere."
    "Maybe I should just bite something off you and see if I can carry you then." The owl licked his beak.
    Templeton gasped and jumped back.
    Starflower laughed.
    A fat Canada goose in overalls waddled out of the cabin. "Can I help you fellers with something?"
    "What happened to that Kahodi you were selling?"
    "Oh. Tillie, you mean?" The goose rubbed its beak. "I just sold her a few hours ago. But I got another one, if you're interested."
    "Oh yes. We're definitely interested. Let's see what you've got."
    The goose tottered its way down a path leading around the cabin, cutting between a field of ragweed and crabgrass. They came to a muddy wooden enclosure containing a rotund animal with very dull eyes. Its coat was speckled brown and white. A rope dangled from its neck. It gnawed on a fence post, taking a huge chunk out of it.
    "Five thousand rupees and it's yours."
    "That Kahodi doesn't look fit for the plow or the race course. One thousand."
    "It's a breeder. It's male. You could do well with a breeder like this. Three thousand, and that's my final offer."
    "I wouldn't breed this one if it were the only Kahodi left in Alalart. One thousand."
    The goose sighed. "Mister, I have a family to feed. This farm is going downhill rapidly. The ground here is lifeless and dead. I can't keep up with the Wingulls or the Browns. You're taking food out of my family's mouth."
    "I only have a thousand to spend, so if you won't let me buy it for a thousand, I won't buy it."
    "You can always get a loan from Rodante or Glamfeather or Scythe," said the goose. "Why don't you go into town and get one?"
    Dreamcloud gestured to the weeds. "Why don't you take our thousand rupees and plant some Lukemou on this side? With a little work, you could bring in at least a hundred basketfuls of good crop before winter."
    The goose scowled at him. "Lukemou is useless. No one wants to buy it. You can't give it away."
    "Then you know nothing about the soil you're farming. The ground is dry. You are killing the soil with your Macuku and corn. If you plant some Lukemou, you will put life back in the soil, and you can plant Macuku and possibly some other plants and reap a good harvest again."
    The goose stared at him. "This is madness. You are telling me a fool thing. Lukemou takes too long to harvest."
    "You can weave rope out of Lukemou. One cannot get enough rope. And then you can harvest the others later, when the soil is good once more."
    "It's true that I spend a lot on rope." The goose frowned. "Okay. A thousand rupees."
    Nightshade handed over the money. The goose opened the pen and led the Kahodi out.
    Templeton sucked in his breath, cautiously approaching the creature. The Kahodi lifted its leg and peed on him. The rat grimaced.
    Bongo broke into grunting laughter. Dreamcloud and the others joined in.
    "Oh great," Templeton moaned, staring down at his soggy outfit. "This is just terrific." Shaking his head, he approached the obese creature, attempting to climb up. The Kahodi didn't protest, but the great shaggy body was just a little too big for the rat to handle.
    Bongo grabbed Templeton, throwing him onto the Kahodi's back. He swung his arms over the speckled coat and was up top with him.
    The gorilla's nose wrinkled. He grunted something, then hurled Templeton into a water trough.
    The rat climbed out, shaking off the water. Everyone laughed at him.
    "Yeah, yeah. Real funny." The rat tried to climb back up on the beast. Bongo reached down and lifted him up top again.
    The Kahodi stood on its hind legs, and the two fell to the ground. It jumped to the side of the cabin.
    Dreamcloud laughed. "Excellent. This Kahodi is not completely broken." He hurried to the side of the creature, staring it down until it became settled. He took the rope, leading it away from the farm.
    "A pleasure doing business with you," said the goose.
    "Indeed," said Dreamcloud. "If we meet again, I shall show you how to weave rope."
    The goose nodded. "I'd be much obliged."
    They walked the Kahodi back up the road.
    "Now we have a friend for Cono," said Starflower.
    "Yes. We should give this one a name. Shade, you are the one who has purchased this one. What name will you give it?"
    "I'll call it Anoroc."
    Dreamcloud nodded. "That sounds like a good name. Is there any particular significance to that name?"
    "No, I just like the sound of it."
    The fat one immediately tried to mount the other, dragging Dreamcloud behind. Cono gave it a great kick with its hind leg and it backed away.
    Dreamcloud gave Templeton a short riding lesson. After this, he, Nightshade and Starflower got on Cono's back. Bongo and the rat got on the other. Cono started hopping. Anoroc followed her.
    There was a sound like the needle of a record player touching a groove in a vinyl record. Everything lost its color. The scenery was converted to shades of black and white. Nightshade saw his comrades in grayscale. Dreamcloud was near black, with white highlights around the bumpy parts of his skin.
    "Did you see that?"
    "See what?" Starflower asked.
    "Everything turned black and white."
    "I do not understand."
    "Oho!" Templeton shouted. "I feel like we are in a Bogart movie!"
    Nightshade shrugged. "Whoever that is."
    "If we ever get out of this place, remind me to buy you a video."
    They rode onwards, traveling through a wooded area. Anoroc's temperment was disagreeable. It tended to veer towards tree branches and thorn bushes, trying to knock its riders off.
    The set. It looked strange in black and white. It became dark.
    There was a rustling noise in the bushes. Anoroc's eyes got really big. It bolted, speeding ahead of Cono, through a patch of brush. Templeton screamed.
    The Kahodi leapt over a thorn bush, dashing down a hill.
    "Where are they going?" said Starflower.
    "I do not know."
    "We've got to help them," said Nightshade. "Can we catch up to them?"
    "Doubtless. Anoroc is out of shape. It should not be difficult." He squeezed a floppy ear and the Kahodi made a mad dash down the hill. They bounded across a dusty field, through a stretch of wildflowers, then something snapped. There was a gurgling, strangled mewling sound, and Cono flipped tail over head, throwing her riders. Nightshade hurtled through the dark, falling on his back with a painful thud. As he moaned and tried to sit up, someone pointed a spear at his neck. He looked up and saw an army of ugly figures with torches standing around him. The Kahodi was sprawled in the dirt, its guts lacerated into a bloody pulp by some barbaric trapping device. Dreamcloud and Starflower were hog tied on the ground, with spears pointed at them. A big lumpy shape lay a few feet from there, tied up in so many ropes that it looked like a mummy. A rodent head could be seen poking out to one side of it.
    The creatures jabbered to one another and laughed.
    Taking hold of the spear, Nightshade rolled forward over his own arms, wrenching the weapon from his assailant's hands. Then, using his own momentum, the hybrid sprang up and hit his foe over the head with the spear handle. The creature let out a grunt, then fell to the ground.
    Something hit him in the back of the head. He felt something heavy land on him, pinning his arms and legs down. They tied him up with cords and kicked him a few times, laughing and making mocking sounds. Nightshade squirmed, but he couldn't get free.
    "Damned Huruts," Dreamcloud muttered.
    Nightshade squirmed inside the ropes, trying to get free. They were thick and unyielding. It would be a pain to chew through them. He exhaled as far as he could, tightening his muscles to make himself thinner, but he couldn't shimmy out of them. They were just bound too tightly. He was on the ground, not fastened to anything. There were no posts to throw himself between. He couldn't reach his knife. His gauntlets had been confiscated. He rolled over, surveying his surroundings. It was a crude looking camp, basically a circle in the dirt. Mats and straw beds lay scattered about, animal skins stretched over poles here and there to serve as tents. Nothing appeared to be terribly useful. He saw many wooden clubs and rocks. He could see a knife glinting in one of the crude tents, but there wasn't much of any way for him to rub against it without making it roll all over the place, and he was being watched.
    It was then that he noticed a sharp curving piece of rusted iron sticking out of the ground. He scooted towards it carefully, an inch at a time, trying not to draw attention to himself. White lines streaked through the air, like he was looking at grainy film. He shook his head and kept going.
    One of the grunts stared at him. He laid still until it looked away, then resumed his inchworm routine. It was exhausting work, and the blade wasn't as close as he thought. He laid still and played possum again, catching his breath.
    He got a suspicious glance from a thug with lopsided eyeballs. He remained still, waiting for it to get bored. Once it lost interest, Nightshade wiggled up to the blade, rubbing his bonds against it.
    The lazy eyed creature sniffed and looked his way. Nightshade stopped, trying to look innocent. Lazy eye seemed to be suspicious. It grinned at him, looking exactly like Marty Feldman. In other circumstances, it would have been comical. The hybrid shut his eyes, pretending to sleep for a few minutes. He heard footsteps come close to him, then go away. He cracked his eyes open a fraction. Seeing the creature gone, he started sawing on his bonds again. Soon his arms were free.
    Marty turned and looked at him. Nightshade sucked in his breath, pretending to be asleep again. He heard a low growl, then a loud scream.
    Nightshade waited, then checked to see if he was being watched. Thinking that he was safe, he worked on the ropes some more. He took out his knife, cutting himself free. He got to his feet, his blood rushing to his head. He growled, clenching his fists. No one traps me! No one!
    Suddenly he heard the sound of guitar music. It came out of nowhere, accompanied by a flute. It was chilling, mournful music with a slow, plodding beat. It was like music from an old western. The cymbals clanked like spurs on a cowboy boot.
    Nightshade blinked in surprise. He looked around in confusion, wondering what was going on. None of the Huruts seemed to notice. The music swelled into a crescendo with full orchestral accompaniment. Somber Mexican sounding trumpet music blared in his ears.
    No. He stared at the mob of monsters surrounding him. There's no way I can fight all of them. He searched for a means of escape. He used his sonar to scan the darkness for an opening. There was a clear area next to a group of tents. He turned that way and ran.
    Marty let out a shout, reporting to its allies. A big muscular beast with short ears and bulldog jowls came charging at him with a wooden club in its fists. Marty ran behind it with a torch.
    Sensing dangerous motion behind him, Nightshade took to wing.
    Something whistled through the air. A pair of heavy objects slammed into his calves. He dropped from the air and fell on his face. Groaning, he pushed himself up, feeling around his legs. He'd been hit by a bolo. He cut the ropes with his knife, standing up just in time to see a weapon with long metal spikes flying at him.
    Nightshade went berserk. He let out a high pitched scream, causing the creature to wince in pain. As the beast came closer, his pitch increased to the level of microphone feedback, then to an ultrasonic whine that only a dog could hear. Still screaming, he leapt at the Hurut with his fangs bared, his fingers bent into claws. There was a solid thud as he made contact with the body. The club went flying through the air, landing somewhere in the dark. The Hurut screamed, then exploded like a water balloon, its blood splashing all over the place in monochrome.
    Nightshade got up from the mess, drawing his knife. Marty came running at him with the torch, trying to burn him. Nightshade screamed and slashed at its chest. The Hurut roared and fell over.
    The hybrid tried to fly away, but he was struck by a large rock, and a pair of muscular arms brought him down. The creatures had apparently been hiding in some sort of underground burrow holes, lying in wait for some unfortunate prey to come by. He hadn't noticed their movements on account of the wind and the leaves rustling all around him.
    A group of the creatures leapt out of the darkness, surrounding him, raising their clubs. A pair of them pinned his arms behind his back, and then the beatings came.
    They clubbed him, kicked him and pounded him with their fists until bones were broken and he lay in a bleeding heap on the ground. Not satisfied, they continued the assault, kicking him, clubbing him, stomping on him until he stopped moving. They moved away from him, laughing and jabbering to one another.
    Nightshade moaned, lifting himself up with his aching muscles. His face and body was covered in bruises. His wings were broken. His left eye swelled and watered from where they pounded him. Three of his teeth were missing. He lifted a weak hand up to his mouth, wiggled a fang, and it came out. He spat out blood.
    Using the last bit of strength he had left, he pushed his trembling body into a standing position. He scanned the darkness for another escape route, but he found himself surrounded. He screamed. The beasts held their ears, wincing in pain.
    Nightshade decided to take advantage of the situation. With a scream, he ran toward one of the Huruts, trying to shove past. The creature caught his arm.
    He charged at the beast, driving his teeth and claws into its flesh. The Hurut elbowed him, slamming a backfist into his face. Something slammed into the hybrid's skull and he fell to the ground.
    He sprawled on his stomach, uttering a weak moan as he received a second beating. They kicked, clubbed and pounded him until he lay motionless, his eyes staring dully into the darkness.
    The orchestra became silent. A jaunty western tune began playing on a twangy guitar. Nightshade's eyes closed. The music stopped.
    The beasts dragged the limp bat-like body into the camp.
    "Shade?" said a voice.
    No response.
    "Shade!"
    Nothing.
    "Shade!" the voice screamed.
    "N-nightshade?" a timid voice said. Its next words were choked with grief, coming out in a pathetic croak. "Nightshade! No! Please no!" It began sobbing.
    "He's dead!" Starflower cried. "He...he's really dead!"
    "His death will be avenged."
    More weeping.
    Something made a series of piteous grunting sounds, then let out a roar so loud that it shook the trees.
    Sobbing.
    Nightshade's body was dragged across the dirt and dropped next to the gorilla. They left him there. The hybrid's companions fell into a tearful silence. The beastly creatures laughed like it was funny, blabbering to themselves in their harsh sounding tongue.
    A soft pattering sound cut through the air.
    The Huruts let out a surprised shout. They became silent.
    The pattering became louder. The hybrid's dull eyes registered a series of dark feathery shapes. They stood around his field of vision, saying nothing. His ear perked up for a minute, then fell limp on his battered skull.
    Native American flute music began to play. The twangy guitar came in, sounding muffled and tinny like it were being played on an old record.
    Nightshade's eyelids closed. Fade to black.
    ***
    Waves from a river rushed up on a bright beach in Alalart, the sun casting a warm glow on the sand, the clean clear water, the trees, the half submerged rocks surrounded by streams of churning froth. A gentle breeze blew through the green grass and leafy foliage at the opposite edge of the sand. All was silent for a moment, then the sounds of clashing metal and laughter rang through the air, scaring away the odd animals braving the edge of the forest.
    "Watch your back, Hadrian! I almost got you good that time!"
    Clang! "Take that, Cephas!"
    Clank!
    Two feathery figures flew down from the treetops, flapping their wings as they swung dull looking swords at one another. They laughed gleefully, dancing along the edge of the sand, their feet bouncing merrily through the surf. Their bodies had a human-like shape, but they looked more like owls. One was a short eared prairie owl with brown feathers sticking out of a whitish-gray mass, the other a brown-black horned owl. The swords continued their clashing. They danced in various fighting poses, blocking and parrying, jabbing and thrusting at one another. A scaly foot tripped over something in the water. The prairie owl fell over backwards.
    The horned one charged after the first owl, but stopped once its foot bumped into the object. It looked down. "What in qokele?"
    The prairie owl sat up, gawking at the object it had just tripped over.
    It was a brown fuzzy creature, dressed in tattered sailor's clothing.
    The two of them poked at it, checking to see if it were alive and breathing. It appeared to be unconscious.
    "Hullo? Are you all right?"
    No response.
    "What should we do with it?"
    The brown-white one sighed. "I dunno. You think Trajan would mind if we brought this poor guy home?"
    The horned owl scratched its head. "Yehorah tells us to show hospitality, for in doing so, we will have unknowingly shown it to Yehorah himself. Trajan taught me that."
    "But he yelled at us when we took in that Hurut spy a month ago."
    "How was I to know he was a spy?"
    "You always think the best of everyone. Sometimes that isn't a good thing."
    Sigh. "Let's take him to Trajan and ask him what he thinks."
    "Trajan is out on a scouting expedition. What will we do with him until then?"
    "Perhaps we could place him in the jail for safekeeping."
    The prairie owl shrugged. "Sounds like a plan."
    "Well, let's go and see how we can help this fellow."
    The two grabbed the limp, hairy, dripping wet body with their hands and clawed feet, flapping their wings. They rose into the air, flying up through the treetops. They climbed, banked, and shot between the trees, coming to a large cluster of wooden buildings spreading beneath the forest canopy. The structures had a quasi-European style to them, though somewhat rounded so that they would go around the trees, and they were all connected by a vast spreading wooden platform.
    They dove, coming closer to the edge of the complex. They drifted lower and lower, touching down on the oaken planks.
    They slung the unconscious body over their shoulders, walking toward a wide brown building next to a barrel. They opened the door, entering a room filled with hammocks and straw beds. One end of the room was completely enclosed in a cages made of iron bars. They opened one of them, laying the wet creature in a hammock at its opposite end. They closed the cell, locked it, then went out. They returned a few minutes later with a pile of clothing in their paws. They opened the cell, placed the items on the floor, then took seats outside the bars, chatting amongst themselves. A fire was built, and the chattering continued.
    "Uunngghh..." Sitting up, the otter put a paw to his forehead, rubbing at his skull. Looking around with a pained expression, he noted the bars and the creatures beyond. What is this place?
    The two owls turned and looked at their captive, their mouths hanging open.
    "It's awake!"
    The horned owl frowned. "Great. Now what are we going to do with it?"
    The prairie owl waved at the otter. "Hi. My name is Cephas."
    "Hadrian," said the other, raising a brown-black hand.
    "What's your name?"
    The otter glanced at Cephas for a few minutes, trying to remember. "I...I...I...don't know."
    The birds stared at each other, their huge eyes widening.
    "He doesn't know?"
    "How could you not know your own name?"
    Hadrian shook his head. "Maybe he's been eating dijaka berries. Or maybe he hit his noggin on something."
    Cephas leaned over the bars. "Where are you from?"
    "I...don't know."
    "Well," said Hadrian. "What do you know?"
    Clenching his eyes, the otter concentrated on the fragments of his past. "I remember...a storm. A powerful tempest, attacking my ship. I remember...roaring winds and hard thunder. And voices; someone calling out...something. I remember...darkness and rain, all around me. I remember...falling. I fell forever. And then...oblivion." The otter opened his eyes and smiled. "But enough about that; it's over and done with. Exactly why am I here? And on the same note, where exactly is here?"
    The two creatures squinted at him, extending their necks like only owls can.
    Hadrian glanced at his companion. "Sounds like dijaka berries."
    "Oh I don't know. He's wearing sailor clothing."
    Cephas scratched his head. "Um, okay...well...sir, um, whatever your name is..."
    "We found you on a riverbank. We thought you needed help, so we brought you here."
    "We're lousy doctors. We were going to get Nateela to treat you, but she's out with Trajan right now."
    Hadrian shook his beak and chuckled. "Those two are going to have an egg one day, mark my words."
    Cephas crossed his gray-white arms, staring at the captive. "What else can we tell him? He's not even supposed to be here."
    "What harm could it do? I doubt he can even find his way out of a box."
    "Still, I don't want to tell him more than I have to."
    Hadrian sighed. "You're in a place called The Roost."
    "What else can we tell him?"
    "You can begin by explaining exactly why you put him in a jail cell. I'd like to know that bit of information myself!"
    The otter looked up and saw a horned gray shape standing behind the two. Its feathers were speckled with black, with streaks of brown in it.
    Cephas' eyes widened. He turned his head around 360 degrees, looking at him. "Trajan!"
    Hadrian's head spun around, looking over his back. "Just the owl we wanted to see!"
    "We found this otter on the beach. He was out like a light. We don't know what to do with him."
    "Let him go. He seems healthy enough."
    Shrugging, Hadrian spun his head back around and unlocked the cell. The door swung open.
    "Are you sure this is safe, uncle?"
    Trajan nodded. "Cordero told me to practice hospitality. I will not disobey him."
    "But what if he attacks us?"
    "He does not look dangerous."
    "But neither did the Hurut spy!"
    Trajan bowed his head, not speaking. He looked troubled. He stared at the slats in the wood floor.
    "What is it, uncle?"
    "What's the matter?"
    "The...Cordero. He...told me...that...compassion...is the most powerful weapon of all. I...do not know what this means, but I an trying to be more compassionate." He moved to the entrance of the cell, giving the otter a slight bow. "Greetings. I am Trajan. Welcome to The Roost." He gestured to the room. "You are free to go. You can stay here, or we can return you to the ground, and you can go wherever you came from. The choice is yours."
    "Well, first off," the otter replied, looking himself over, "I think I should like to change out of these wet rags. Do you mind?"
    The owls agreed and stepped out of the structure.
    The otter picked up the pile of dry clothing, examining it. It was standard Renaissance Festival material. A tunic, a vest and tights. He put the outfit on and called the owls back in.
    "So," said Hadrian. "Are you planning to stay with us?"
    The otter shook his head. "Actually, I'd like to be returned to where you found me, so I can look for anyone that survived the shipwreck."
    Cephas shrugged. "Okay. No problem. It is getting a bit dark, though. Perhaps you'd prefer to wait until dawn?"
    "A nearby tree contains a guest house," Trajan offered. "You are welcome to stay until it is light."
    "Are you talking about Swordbeak's old place?"
    Trajan nodded. "Is there something wrong with that?"
    "No." Hadrian sighed. "I was just using it as a fort."
    "I thought you built a fort."
    "It's not very good. I like Swordbeak's place better."
    "Well if our guest decides to stay longer, you'll have to take it up with him."
    "Is supper ready?" Cephas asked.
    Hadrian made a face. "You're always thinking about food."
    "Preparations will be finished within the hour."
    "What are we having?"
    "Buttered mushrooms, Silagucu wings and Narehuri." Trajan looked at the otter. "Sir, you are welcome to stay for the meal if you wish."
    "I am feeling a little hungry," the otter replied. "Thank you very much."
    "Well," said Trajan. "It will be awhile. In the meantime, allow me to show you around our home." He led the otter out the door, out to the wide platform beneath the trees. The smells of roasted meat and fresh bread wafted through the air. "This is the Roost. We're at the meeting pad." He gestured to a rope bridge set between a primitive looking pulley elevator and a bench. A cluster of tree houses could be seen in the distance. "Hadrian, Cephas and I stay over there." He pointed to a tree house beyond a rope bridge framed with ornately carved wooden posts. "That's where we take care of our sick and injured." He turned around. "Of course you know where the jail is." He waved a hand at a cluster of wooden cages filled with strange looking animals. "Those are Siligucu and Narehuri. They are very delicious when basted with the right sauces and seasonings." He moved his hand upwards, indicating a treehouse beyond a bridge. "That is our guest house. Cordero is staying there." He bowed his head, touching his chest. He glanced at the otter. "Let's see if Torgo is here."
    The otter followed Trajan down a bridge set between the jail and the Cordero place. The ropes swung and wiggled as their feet shifted on the boards. Gentle gusts of wind gave the bridge slight trembles every few steps. All the rocking and swaying made him feel at home.
    "I never asked you your name."
    "I...don't remember my name."
    Trajan sighed. "Well, then. What would you like to be called?"
    "Call me-" The otter put a hand to his head as an old image pushed its way through his mind.
    The deck of a boat. The sounds of waves crashing. An old gray...rodent, sitting on a barrel, speaking to him. "Remember, my young friend," it had said. "It's an honor to be allowed to have a shore-name. It's a mark of trustworthiness and reliability. We each choose our own, and that's the name we use every time we step off the boat. Have you chosen yours?"
    The otter shook his head. The memory was gone as soon as it had come. He looked at Trajan and said, "Call me River."
    Trajan chuckled. "Old man river..." he began singing.
    The otter blinked.
    "Sorry. Let's go see Torgo." Trajan led River up the bridge. Faint strains of music could be heard, becoming louder as they approached a small cabin with a thatched roof. The owl pushed the door open.
    They entered a small, plain looking room with a hammock and a scattered assortment of chests. A lute hung on the wall. A brown rabbit sat on the floor, playing a jaunty, medieval sounding tune with a wooden flute. His eyes were closed, his attention lost in the music he played. He had large floppy ears, giant feet, and a big fluffy ball for a tail, and they all twitched in time with the music. Hazy memories of evenings spent playing music for crewmates tickled his consciousness, then vanished like the notes themselves. Bits of melodies came to him, then went as soon as the next note came in a different pitch than he was expecting.
    Trajan gestured to the rabbit. "River, meet Torgo."
    The merry, lilting melody danced through the otter's eardrums. His whiskers twitched.
    After a few measures, the rabbit stopped, opening his eyes. He looked up. "Oh! Hello!" He set the flute aside, introducing himself to River.
    "Call him `Go' for short."
    The rabbit gave him a light jab. "Enough with the short jokes, Trajan!"
    The owl chuckled.
    "Trajan and I have been working on a little tune for some time now. It's called Wayfarer's Kilnfest. Would you like to hear it?"
    The otter smiled. "I'd like that very much."
    Trajan took the lute off the wall, and the two had a little jam session. The otter sat down and listened. He rather got caught up in it.
    "I thought I'd find you here," said a female voice.
    The music stopped. Both musicians looked up. River turned around and saw a tall snowy owl standing in the doorway. "Dinner's ready." She looked down at the otter. "Who's this?"
    "This is River," said Trajan. "He's staying for dinner."
    "Oh he is, is he?" she put her paws on her hips.
    The otter suddenly felt very uncomfortable. "If I am being a burden, I can leave, maam."
    The female laughed. "That's okay, dear," she said, rubbing the fuzz on the otter's head. "I was only giving Trajan a hard time." She cocked a head towards the door. "If any of you have an objection to eating Silagucu and Narehuri, you're in the wrong Roost."
    "No objections here!" said Trajan.
    "None here, either!" said Go. "Just as long as your recipe hasn't changed!"
    The three of them got up and followed the female down the bridge to the center platform. They went across the deck, going across a sturdy looking bridge between the jail and the medic. They came to a big rounded cabin with a cone shaped roof. They passed through its wide archway and came into a room containing two long tables filled with a motley assortment of fuzzy creatures. A room to the rear appeared to contain counters and an oven. Trajan and Go pulled up a pair of stools at the end of the table near the entrance, offering the seat across from them to River.
    River sat down, looking around the room. The walls were decorated with quilts and colorful flags. Hadrian sat on a stool two seats across from him, with Cephas seated on the opposite side. The otter turned around in his seat, looking behind him. The other table contained a hairy koala with big wide ears and something canine-like with a hat. There was a white cat, and a red-brown squirrel with a fat bushy tail. He turned around. The room was abuzz with chatter as plates were set out by a short spotty white barn owl. Some of the creatures were more voicterous than others. He could hear someone talking about the peculiarities of a farmer in Meshudo, and it was loud enough for him to get the precise details. Hadrian and Cephas broke into a rousing chanty. Something about a knight who disagreed with the dragon that ate him. The table behind him broke out in the chorus.
    The room became abruptly silent. River heard someone whispering, "Cordero."
    Everyone in the room turned to look at a robed figure standing in the doorway.
    It was a sheep with a face framed in a carpet of white wool. His eyes were big and brown, with black minus signs for retinas. "Greetings, everyone," he said. He nodded to the otter. "Hello, River. My name is Cordero. Welcome to the Roost."
    "Did you say something to him?" Trajan asked Go.
    "No."
    "Then how does he know that guy's name?"
    Cordero just smiled. He moved to the center of the room. All the other creatures' heads bowed, their eyes closing. The tall white owl stepped into the room, bowing her head. The sheep said a prayer.
    The heads went back up, eyes opening. The room returned to its normal noise level.
    "Sometimes you don't even have to say anything," said Go. "He just knows."
    Trajan nodded.
    Cordero began speaking with the cat in low tones. The cat swallowed and nodded.
    River stared at him. The name he had been called a few minutes ago wasn't River. He distinctly heard him saying something else. Something older. A name that sounded suspiciously like something he had been called all of his life. He didn't know what it was, but it wasn't River. It gave him a chill.
    The tall snowy owl brought out plates loaded with roasted meat, passing them around. One type of meat resembled chicken, but smaller. The other was like fish. There were mushrooms, piles of carrots and something like giant spinach leaves. The repast was distributed across the tables. As the female was placing a pitcher of water at the end of the table, she smiled at River and said, "I never introduced myself. My name is Nateela."
    "Hi."
    "I hope you like the food. It's a family recipe." She smiled and went into the back room again.
    Cordero sat down next to River. The tall female owl seated herself on the stool next to him.
    The food was passed to their end of the table. River took one of each thing, placing it on his plate.
    Everyone started eating. The otter stared at the sheep as it started devouring a piece of the chicken stuff. The woolen muzzle turned toward him. "You have questions. I have answers, if you ask me for them."
    "Well, there's one thing I won't need to ask," River said, smiling. "I've already figured it out. This fish is incredible."
    "Thanks," said Nateela. "It's a recipe my mother taught me."
    Cordero chuckled.
    "So, `River'..." the female said. "What's your story?"
    "Well," the otter replied. "I know I was a musician, working on a ship. Only it wasn't just work. I enjoyed it very much. I know that the ship I was on was caught in a storm. I know that I fell from a great height, and that I blacked out, probably on impact. I woke up here. I don't remember my birth name. I do remember my on-shore alias, River...although I don't know why I needed it. And...that's about all I can tell you at the moment. But Cephas and Hadrian have agreed to lead me back to where I was found in the morning, to look for other survivors," he added. "I may be able to find out more then."
    Nateela looked worried. "I hope everything works out well for you. And I hope you'll remember something." She turned and looked at Cordero. "Can you help him any, master?"
    The sheep nodded. "If he wishes me to come along, I shall accompany him. But only if I do not make him uncomfortable."
    "It's not that you make me uncomfortable," River interjected. "I just think it's better to learn the value of truth by finding it for yourself."
    "Ah," said Cordero. "Choose what you wish, but if you earnestly seek the truth, or a companion, you will always find me close at hand."
    The conversations in the room ceased for some time. One could only hear the sounds of munching and dishes rattling.
    "Hey Cordero," said Go. "If you count yourself, do you fall asleep?"
    Cordero chuckled, but didn't reply.
    "What are we having tomorrow, Nateela?" Go asked.
    "I'm making a bean soup."
    "Again?" The rabbit made a face. "There's not enough meat in that. Too many beans. And you know what beans do to me."
    "C'mon, Go! With the amount of Silagucu after you and the others finish eating, all we'll have left is enough to make bean soup!" She smiled at River. "But it's good bean soup. You'll like it."
    Trajan and Go glanced at each other with wincing expressions on their faces. The rabbit stuck out his tongue.
    Trajan chuckled. "Beans, beans, the musical fruit-"
    "No fart jokes, please."
    The horned owl shut his beak and smirked.
    "So," said Nateela. "How is the music coming along?"
    "Good. I think this new song we came up with is the best yet." He sighed, looking at Cordero. "Master, will Trajan and I ever get famous for our music? You think we'll ever play in the palace of Kasimeel?"
    The sheep's face became expressionless. "If I tell you that you will succeed, you will become overconfident and fail. If I tell you that you will fail, you will stop trying." He said nothing else.
    Go bit his lip.
    Trajan stared at the table.
    The group became quiet, eating in silence.
    "Why make work out of music anyway?" River asked. "Why not just enjoy it for what it is? That's what I do. And so will anyone who listens to your music, whether or not you become famous."
    "That is fine advice for the tinker, the casual strummer, the idle singer, but I have ambitions. I want to be remembered for something. I do not wish to be a failure like my father."
    "In Lutamura, your father is a great ruler," said Cordero. "If you honor me, you will also be great there."
    Go stared at the table, looking disappointed.
    "What is Lutamura?" said River.
    Go sighed. "It is where the righteous go when they die." He put his chin in his palms, staring at the wall.
    "Are you tired yet, River?" Nateela asked.
    "Not particularly," the otter replied. "Why, did you need me for something? Because I'd be willing to help if you asked."
    Nateela shrugged. "I just thought you were tired from your journeys. You are not an owl, after all, and it is getting late. But if you wish, you can help with the chores. We can always use an extra set of paws."
    "Well, to be fair, you're right. This does qualify as 'staying up late' for me," River chuckled. "But I did have a nap earlier, and I did just finish eating, so I should still have a couple of hours left in me tonight before I need to turn in. Where do you need me?"
    Nateela smiled and nodded. "I sure could use some help in the kitchen, cleaning all these dishes."
    "Lead the way."
    The snowy owl got up, leading river into a small room at the end of the dining hall. It was a plain looking structure filled with simple wooden cabinets and shelves, lit by candles and oil lamps. The dishes were stacked in large piles on the oak counters. The short female owl was standing on a stool, washing a few of them in a wooden bucket. Buckets of steaming water were set on a counter nearby. At the end of the room was a fire with a kettle of boiling water on it. No plumbing could be seen.
    Nateela brought River up to the dish washer. "Amo, we have another volunteer to help us."
    The short owl turned around. "Oh hi! You're our new guest, aren't you? Welcome!" She shook river's hand. "You wanna dry or wash? Of course you wanna wash. I'll let you do it. Go right ahead." She hopped off the stool, grabbing a towel from a rack.
    River went up to the bucket. Amo was only a head shorter than he, so he had no problem reaching in without a stool. He grabbed the sea sponge that was being used to clean the dishes, and set to work, humming a cheery tune as he cleaned the mugs, pots, plates and various silverware items. The water was a bit scalding at first, but he got used to it.
    For a few minutes, Nateela supervised, checking to make sure that he used a brush to scour away the caked on bits, and that the water remained properly hot while he worked. Once satisfied, she stepped away and began painting designs on the wall.
    "`Sis," Amo said, wiping a plate dry. "Do you think Hadrian likes me?"
    Nateela painted a flowery design across a section of the wall, then dipped her brush in a container. "Of course he likes you, Amo. We're all friends here in the Roost."
    "That's not what I meant." Amo put the plate on a shelf, drying a cup. "What I meant was, do you think he really, really likes me? Like, enough to want to, you know, marry or become nest mates?"
    Nateela stopped painting, staring at her.
    "You see, `sis, I'm worried that he thinks I'm only a hatchling on account of me being so short." She put the cup away, drying another plate.
    "I..." Nateela stammered. "I...there's plenty of time for...I mean, you two are so young...you shouldn't worry about that just yet. I'm sure, when you get older, and he gets older, he'll notice-"
    "-He'll notice other females and dismiss me as a hatchling."
    "I...I'm sure that won't happen, sweetie. You're a very pretty owl and once you begin to mature..."
    "You think he'll notice me, then?"
    Nateela nodded, though she looked uncertain. She began working on a vine-like curlicue, patching in roses and leaves and thorns. "Sometimes males are a bit shy. I knew Trajan for quite some time before he finally opened up and told me that he `kinda, sorta' thought I was pretty and attractive and that he `wouldn't mind' if we could be together `a really, really long time.' I..." Her beak clamped shut, and she began spreading her design to the corner of the room.
    Amo dried off a skillet. "He hasn't asked you to marry him yet, has he?"
    Nateela's shoulders slumped. She didn't reply, continuing to paint flowery designs around the slabs of wood.
    "He didn't, did he?"
    "No," Nateela said in a tiny voice. "But maybe someday he might."
    Amo chuckled, drying off a handful of silverware.
    Silence.
    Feeling awkward, the otter began singing. "Sailing, sailing, over the bounding main!"
    "How good are you at cooking, River?" Amo asked. "I'm sure you picked up something while you were sailing around the world, right? I bet you know some good pirate recipes, don't you? I bet you were a big swashbuckling pirate and you cooked a wild Kubaju every night for dinner, didn't you? Or did your shipmates do that for you?"
    "Amo," said Nateela. "We don't know very much about Mr. River. He could have been a merchant. There are a number of safe trade routes out there that don't involve pirates at all. But," she smirked. "You'd think, along those routes, somewhere, he may have picked up at least one good recipe. Isn't that right, Mr. River?"
    A wave of dizziness hit River over the head like an iron skillet, almost making him drop the plate in his paws, as another memory pushed its way through his mind.
    An ornately decorated dining room spread out around him, gently rocking in time with the currents of the oceans. The scent of fear lay heavy in the air, as an imperious voice boomed out with practiced ease. `Y'all want to be looking very intently at your own belly buttons; those o' you don't have 'em, just stare at that general area. I see a head start to rise, violence is going to ensue. You've probably guessed we mean to be thievin' here, but you can afford to replace what we take, and we'll make sure to leave you enough to get where you're going. So... let's have no undue fussing.'
    The memory faded. The otter snapped back to reality. "Off the top of my head, I couldn't tell you about good recipes, pirate or otherwise." He tapped the side of his head. "Memory problems, you know. And for the record, Miss Nateela, it's just 'River.'" A wide grin crossed his muzzle. "The only time anyone calls me 'mister' is when I've done something wrong."
    Nateela nodded. "I was just being respectful. If you wish me to simply call you River, I will do that." She went back to painting.
    Amo wiped a bowl clean. "Do you have a girlfriend, River?"
    "Don't ask him that."
    "I'm not asking him out. He's not even my type. I just want to know if he has a girlfriend or not."
    "I wouldn't know," River replied, pointedly giving his head another tap. "But I think I can figure on my mind comin' back to me soon enough. It doesn't seem like it takes much to bring somethin' back that I'd forgotten. Half o' what I told Miss Nateela at the table, I only remembered this evenin', so I'm not too worried about it. Just now, in fact, while you were repeatin' the word 'pirate', I got another look at an old encounter with a pirate raidin' party. I imagine more'll crop up when I search the wreck o' me old ship; that's assumin' the sea didn't take it back." He went back to scrubbing pots.
    "Oh," said Amo, putting away another dish.
    Nateela changed the water and put some more hot water in the wash bucket.
    The dishes were becoming fewer. Amo dried up the last cup, working on the plates. "So, um, River...you're a male, right? I mean, of course you are." She looked flustered. "I, uh...that is, do you know any way that I can, you know, get Hadrian's attention? I mean, do you know how I can get him to kinda notice me or something?...Or is it completely hopeless?"
    "Well, seein' as how I didn't share an upbringing with either you or Hadrian, I can only give general advice, you understand?" River took a moment to think about it. "But I think the best way to be noticed is to be a little spontaneous. If it were me, I'd find out what he likes and surprise him with it."
    Amo's eyes widened, listening intently.
    "But don't just leave it somewhere for him to find, don't assume he'll know it's from you just by the item in question, and don't tell him why you gave it to him; let him draw his own conclusions first."
    She nodded, the corners of her beak turning up in a grin.
    "Repeat as necessary, but don't overdo it. That's important. And above all else, make sure he has a friendly ear when he needs one. Nothin' defines a relationship like a shoulder to cry on after a bad day."
    She bobbed her head, grinning wider. "Thanks mister!" She paused. "I mean, thanks, River!" She gave him a hug, then dashed out of the room.
    Nateela chuckled.
    River came to the last of the dishes. With a wry smile, he said, "Where is my drying assistant?"
    "I think she's abandoned you." She laughed, picking up a towel. "Here. Let me help you."
    They finished up the dishes. Nateela gestured to the painting she'd made on the wall. "What do you think?"
    River stared at it. The design was ornate, full of flowers and rainbows and there was a picture of an owl's face in it, framed by hearts. "It's nice. I like the colors."
    She nodded. "Maybe I'll make a painting for you sometime." She shrugged. "So, are you tired, or do you feel up to squishing grapes?"
    "Well, I still don't feel tired," River said, stifling a yawn. "But maybe I should head for bed anyway. If I don't get to sleep, I'll be no good to anyone tomorrow."
    Nateela nodded. "Let me show you to the guest tree." She led him out of the dining hall. It was rather dark now, the Roost lit up by oil lamps on posts. They went on down the long bridge to the meeting pad. From there, they went up a rope bridge to one side of the pulley elevator.
    "My Sulaji ancestors built this place," said Nateela. "It is very old."
    "What's a Sulaji?"
    "Oh, we're a race of owls from Sulaj. It's a country." They marched on. A cool breeze blew through the tree branches. "This is an amazing place with a lot of history. I've heard the chicks speaking about secret trapdoors and hidden monuments and vaults around here. We know where a few are, but many of them remain undiscovered."
    "That sounds neat! Might be fun to explore!"
    Nateela chuckled. "You and Cephas have a lot in common."
    They came up to a wooden hut with an assortment of scientific junk scattered around it. Beakers, bottles, skulls, bones, skeletons, and strange metallic objects surrounded the structure and hung from its walls.
    "Is that the place, miss? It looks sort of creepy."
    "No, this is Fide's place. The guest tree is behind it."
    They crossed a short, sturdy bridge, coming to a small, plain looking hut.
    "It's not much, I admit. We've been meaning to spruce it up a bit."
    "It's a nice place, madam. I kindly thank you for your hospitality."
    She opened the front hatch, leading him inside. The room contained a fireplace, a dresser, and a hammock. "Here you go, River. Is there anything else I can do for you tonight?"
    "Thank you, but no," the otter replied, yawning again. "I think it would be better right now to just let myself sail into the silver mist."
    He paused, blinking in confusion. "Did I just say that?"
    Nateela shrugged. "Good night, River."
    River climbed in the hammock and closed his eyes. He had only slept an hour when he started hearing noises outside his hut. At first it was a repetitive thudding sound, like someone were trying to kick the wall down. It was followed by shouting and hooting noises. He got up and opened the door, trying to see what was the matter.
    No one was there.
    "Hello? Nateela? Go? Hadrian?" He walked around the hut, but didn't see anyone. Well, there's one way to get to the bottom of this. He crossed a bridge framed in strong linen rope, coming up to a green hut decorated with leaves and tree branches like some kind of camouflage. A sign outside the door said `keep out.' He moved a branch away, pounding at the door. When no one responded, he cracked the door open, peeking his head in.
    Snap. Before he could jump back, something wet pelted him in the face. He reached up, touched his cheek, then stared at his hand. Yellow paint. He shook his head, peering around the interior. The hut was empty. He closed the door again, marching down a bridge constructed out of driftwood.
    He got halfway down it and heard a crunch as one of the boards gave way. He fell. With a horrified shout, he made a desperate grab at the ropes. He hung that way for a second, then tested the adjacent board for soundness. Not confident, he pulled himself up, creeping the rest of the way along the sides with his feet on the bottom ropes. He had a brief flashback of a time he fell off the rigging on a ship, but couldn't remember anything else associated with the memory.
    When he got to the other side, he saw a large sign reading `bridge out of order.'
    "Now how was I supposed to see that from way over there?" He sighed and shook his head. "If this is a surprise party, I'm going to have a heart attack."
    A cabin lay ahead, decorated with flags and shields. A wooden sign read `Sir Cephas.' He banged on the entrance. No response. Standing far back from the door, he shoved it open with his foot and waited for the next booby trap. After waiting a bit, he checked the room. Nothing. Just a bed, a dresser, a sword and bows and arrows.
    He cautiously crossed the bridge beyond. It appeared to be sturdier than the last. The cabin on the other side was unoccupied, so he went on to the platform in the center of the complex.
    Cordero was seated on a log, staring directly at him.
    "Hi," said River.
    "Shalom," came the reply. "Don't trouble yourself looking. Nearly everyone has left the Roost. You may speak to Amo and Bekal if you wish. They are below, making fabric." The sheep gestured to the pulley elevator. "You will know where they are by the smell."
    "Smell?" River made a face. He went to the elevator, staring at it.
    "Have no fear. It is safe. The ropes will remain strong for two more years before they will fray and fall apart."
    River's eyes got big. "Two...years?"
    "Two years from this date."
    "Well," he said with caution. "As long as they don't break now, I guess it's fine." He got in, fiddling with the mechanism. He wheeled the platform the wrong way and it bumped against a board. He had a sudden flashback. Brief fragments of memory popped into his head. He remembered doing this action before. In his mind's eye, he saw big iron wheels turning as thick linen ropes brought a giant sail up to a masthead. He saw himself wheeling up to the crow's nest on a pulley, staring out over the water with a spyglass. The memory faded.
    He wheeled the elevator down. Beneath was a wide platform with seven bridges radiating out from it. His nose immediately caught the strong smell of ammonia. He followed the odor down a bridge, coming to a platform filled with barrels and buckets.
    "I still don't see why I can't join Hadrian and the others in battle!" said a nasal female voice. "I know how to fight, too!"
    "Trajan doesn't want you to get hurt," a nasal male voice replied.
    "But that's just it! I won't get hurt! I can take care of myself! I'm not a hatchling! I know how to shoot a bow! I can take a few Huruts! Ugh, this stuff is so disgusting!"
    River came closer. Amo was standing in a bucket, squishing something. The dog stood next to her, stirring something in another bucket.
    The otter wrinkled his nose. "Yuck! Something smells like a chamber pot over here! What is that awful smell?"
    "It's urine," said the dog. "We use it to remove the fat from the Fameci wool so it becomes tough and strong and won't have gaps in it."
    Amo grimaced. "And I'm the one who has to stick my feet in it!" She stuck out her tongue.
    "Stop whining. You only have to do this today, and then someone else will be rotated to wool duty."
    "Someone else!" She spat. "Like, I don't know, Cephas, who was really the one who was supposed to be doing wool duty today!"
    "I'm sorry, Amo, but some animals were in trouble! Trajan needed Cephas by his side so he could rescue them!"
    "And why can't I fight by Trajan's side? I did wool duty yesterday!"
    "One day you will, Amo. One day you will. But it's no use complaining about it now. Keep stomping. The sooner we get done, the sooner we can stop messing with piss."
    River strolled up to them.
    "Hi, River," Amo said with a giggle. "What happened to your face?"
    River explained.
    Amo laughed. "I'm so sorry. My boyfriend has a unique sense of humor." She grinned. "I guess that's why I like him."
    The dog chuckled and shook his head. He gestured to a barrel to one side of the platform. "There's clean water in there if you want to wash up."
    River nodded and scrubbed his face. He turned around. "Is it all gone?"
    "Pretty much," said the dog.
    "Thanks."
    "I don't believe we've met," the dog said. "My name is Jad.
    River introduced himself. "Someone was banging on my door awhile ago. Do you have any idea of what that was about?"
    "Go was probably being overzealous about getting people to assist in fighting the Huruts." Jad shrugged. "I'm sorry we can't be more entertaining right now. We have a lot of Fameci wool to prepare."
    "If you want, you can grab a nose or beak plug and help us," said Amo.
    "But you don't have to. It's up to you. I'm sorry, but I really don't know when everyone is going to get back. Huruts are dangerous foes, but I trust Trajan can handle them."
    "Cordero doesn't seem too worried about it," Amo said as she resumed stomping. "I think he trusts him, too."
    "At any rate, it's just us and Cordero right now. If you feel like getting your paws and feet dirty, you could help stomp the urine into the wool, or help me rinse and hang it."
    "I can't stand idle while my friends throw themselves into battle," River decided. "Which way did they go?"
    Jad frowned. "You're a little late. They're probably already there by now. I believe...they may be a few miles down from the river."
    "Better late than never, I always say," the otter quipped. "How do I get to the ground?"
    The dog sighed and shook his head. "If your heart is set on it, go to the south tree. The pulley will take you to the ground."
    Amo stopped stomping. "Do you remember what they said about the mission, Jad?"
    "I seem to recall the phrase `snatch and grab' being part of the conversation. I don't think they planned on taking on the whole army."
    River furrowed his brow. With a shrug, he hurried down to the center platform and down the south bridge. He approached a wooden cage with a pulley near the back of the compartment. He climbed in, rolled the wheels, and the cage went downwards.
    The air became filled with pattering sounds. River squinted in the dark and saw a group of large lumpy black shapes fluttering up through the trees. He stared, but still couldn't make out what he was looking at. He got out of the cage, leaning over the rail. He heard wheels turning as the cage began lowering. It dropped out of view before he could stop it. A few minutes later, it came back up with a cargo of furry creatures inside. They stepped out on the platform.
    "Hi, River," said Go. He started marching onward.
    River followed him. "What's going on?"
    "You missed all the excitement," Go said as they crossed the swaying bridge. "A group of animals were trapped in a Hurut encampment and we rescued them." He paused. "Well, most of them, anyway. One of them was pretty beat up. I'm not sure he'll pull through." The group hurried into the upper elevator. It was a tight fit, but they all got in, wheeling up top.
    They stepped out in the center of the Roost. A group of feathery shapes were gathered on the floor, huddling around a cluster of bodies bound in rope. Cephas knelt over a limp rodent, cutting its bonds with his sword. Hadrian and an imposing looking black owl were sawing on the ropes on a green creature. A grey owl chick stood over their shoulders, watching them. Nateela and Trajan were a few feet away, staring down at a black bat-like creature with worried looks of concern on their faces. The thing was all bruised and bloody. It wasn't moving. The two shook their heads.
    "Great seas of thunder," River muttered, stepping toward the black creature. "What did you get yourself into, matey?"
    No response came from the black shape.
    "He fought back against the Huruts alone," said Trajan. "It's a wonder he is still in one piece."
    Nateela gently poked the creature's body. "Perhaps some herbs would help it."
    "I don't know. Atheleas could have been helpful earlier, but he almost looks too far gone at this point."
    The otter's whiskers twitched. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
    "Not that I'm aware of."
    "Move aside," said a voice. It was Cordero. The sheep knelt beside the body, placing a paw on the body. He closed his eyes for a minute.
    Something made a loud squeaking sound. River watched as an extra large pulley elevator arrived at the platform, bearing a large gorilla. The ape plodded out on the wood on its knuckles. It sniffed the air, began to beat its chest, then stopped itself, sniffing again. Seeing the rat standing up and untied, it loped over to it and gave it a big hug that nearly crushed the air out of the poor thing. It found the frog, gave it a monkeyshine, then patted it on the head hard enough to knock it off balance. It did the same for the owl chick.
    The sheep's eyes opened. He removed his hand from the body. "Place him in a guest bed."
    Nateela and Trajan nodded. They went across the bridge to the north, going in a hut. They came out with a linen stretcher. They hurried down to the body, rolled it in the stretcher, and picked it up.
    "Need any help with that?"
    "No, that's all right, River," said Nateela. "Compared to air lifting this guy, this is simple."
    The two carried the body off to a hut to the north.
    River saw the black owl look around and stand up. It flew away into the dark.
    The rat, the owl chick, and the frog creature stood in a huddle, talking to one another. The gorilla towered over their shoulders, silently listening.
    River sighed and stretched. "Well, it looks like everything is in order. Better get some shut-eye." He waddled up a bridge, his thoughts returning to sifting through the wreck of his ship in the morning. He went into the guest hut and curled up in the hammock.
    ***
    Seeing light on his eyelids, the hybrid cracked his eyes open. He was seeing color again. He was in a large brown hut made of logs with a thatched ceiling. Along the walls were shelves of bottles containing herbs and liquids of various colors. He lay face down in a bed made of straw, with a blanket made of some sort of woolen material covering him. He ached all over. His wounds and injuries had been dressed. There were cloth bandages covering his arms, his wings, his chest, his neck, and parts of his head. It seemed that his legs had been bandaged too. He had on pants, but they felt strange and baggy. He looked to his side and saw a robed figure sitting on a stool. It looked like a sheep.
    Okay, where am I this time? Nightshade thought.
    The figure got up, kneeling at the head of the bed. A soft white face of a sheep gazed back at him. The black slot shaped pupils in its brown eyes seemed to bore straight into his mind.
    "Good morning, Tyrone," the sheep said. "Welcome to the Roost." It was silent for a minute. "You are safe now. At this place, you are among caring friends. I give you my peace."
    Nightshade pushed himself onto his knees and looked away from the sheep. "If you know me as well as you think you do," he said with a fierce tone, "you should know better than to call me by that name. I'm not him anymore." The hybrid looked back toward Cordero. "He died years ago, and he'll stay dead."
    Cordero bowed his head. "As you wish." He stood up. "I mean you no harm. If you wish to discuss anything with me, anything at all, I will be at the meeting tree." He opened a door on the wall and went out.
    The door opened again. Templeton and a rabbit stepped in.
    "You guys really need to put some better toilets in this place," he said to the rabbit. "Because going down an elevator and across a bridge is too long a distance when your bladder is about to explode. And what's with these chamber pots, anyway? Isn't there some kind of way you can pump some running water up here? A siphon system? Something?"
    The rabbit shrugged. "You come from a strange world. We don't have `flush toilets.'"
    Templeton sighed. He glanced at the bed and his mouth fell open. "Nightshade! You're awake!" He ran over and gave the hybrid a great big hug.
    "Owwww," Nightshade groaned.
    The rat quickly let go. "Buddy! I was so worried! I thought they had killed you!" A tear rolled down his fuzzy cheek. "I stayed by your side all night. I didn't take my eyes off you for a second." He paused, looking ashamed. 'Well, actually I did catch myself nodding off a few times. But still, I was really worried! I didn't even go to the bathroom once." Pause. "Until just now. But only because they served me that tea with the leaves and tree bark in it." He gave Nightshade an embarrassed grin. "But I'm glad you're alive and awake!" He hugged the hybrid again.
    "Ow!"
    Templeton jerked back and let go. "Oops. Sorry, buddy."
    Bongo came loping in the door. When he saw Nightshade, he grinned and began grunting excitedly, stomping across the room.
    "No!" Templeton shouted. "You'll hurt him!"
    "Ungh." Bongo stopped. His shoulders slumped. Slowly, he scraped his knuckles up to the bed, gently caressing the hybrid's head with his fat leathery fingers.
    "Remove the hand," Nightshade said coldly. "Before I do it for you."
    Templeton's eyes widened in shock. "Yikes!"
    Bongo jerked his hand back, grunting angrily. He growled and beat his chest.
    "Settle it, Bongo!" The rat shouted. "Our friend has been through a lot lately. I'm sure he didn't mean it."
    "I'm perfectly capable of speaking for myself, thank you very much," Nightshade retorted.
    Bongo roared in anger. He stomped over to the door, slamming it with his fist. The cheap hinges broke, and the door fell to the ground with a noisy crunch. He growled, banging his way outside.
    "This is awkward," said the rabbit. "If you don't mind, I'll excuse myself now."
    Templeton leaned over the bed. "I'm sorry, Nightshade. He was only trying to be nice. That's how gorillas say hello when they can't give you a rib cracking hug." He sighed, staring at the hybrid in silence for a minute. "What's wrong, Nightshade? You seem kinda...grouchy."
    "Oh my, do I really?" the hybrid growled. "News flash, rodent! I was just beaten half to death for the second time in a week. 'Grouchy' doesn't even come close."
    The rat sighed. "I know. I just thought that maybe you'd be happy to be alive, at least." He gave Nightshade a sad look. "You know, I wasn't having fun out there, either. They beat me pretty bad when I tried chewing my way out of those ropes." He lifted up his tunic, showing him a nasty looking scar. "Look at that. They tried to burn me with a torch."
    Nightshade's expression softened slightly. "Congratulations Templeton. You've won your first trophy." He lifted his hand, revealing a string of puncture scars extending halfway across his palm before looping back to the edge of his hand. "Cherish that scar, pal, and be proud of yourself for having it. It's incontestable proof that, for the moment, you've beaten the odds."
    The rat stared at him, his whiskers drooping. "I'm not some macho tough guy that gets scars all the time. Except if you count my attempts at skateboarding." He wrung his tail in his paws. Nightshade noticed there was a scar running up along its length. "I'm just saying that I could've died out there, too, but I'm not sitting around acting all grumpy about it." He shook his head. "I tried to help you. Bongo tried to help, too. But after he snapped the ropes the first time, a whole gang tackled him and put chains around his wrists and ankles." He sat on the edge of the bed. "Look. I know it was a bad experience, but at least we're alive and safe now." Sigh. "Are you hungry at all?"
    Nightshade looked down at his stomach as it rumbled. "It would seem so." He patted his hip. "Just let me...hold on." The hybrid frisked both his hips repeatedly, growing more frantic as he did so. "No. No, no, no. I know I had it right here."
    "Did you lose something?" Templeton asked.
    "Yes. I had a little statue that my mother gave me. I can't seem to find it."
    "Is it in the bed?"
    Nightshade shrugged.
    Templeton began digging through the straw bed. He and Nightshade spent several minutes in fruitless searching. The rat sighed. "Where did you see it last?"
    "I...it was in my pocket before we got attacked."
    Templeton frowned. "We lost of a lot of stuff when we got attacked. I hate to say it, but one of those monsters might have walked off with it." Sigh. "Sorry, buddy." He stood up. "Well, let's go eat. I think the dining area is somewhere at the opposite end of this place."
    They walked through the doorway, stepping out onto an irregularly shaped platform cobbled out of mismatched pieces of wood. A few yards away, he could see the sheep.
    The frog sat on a log near the doorway. The owl chick knelt on the floor next to him.
    The green one quickly rose to his feet.
    Whap. His fist thudded against his breast, giving Nightshade a kind of salute.
    He bowed his head respectfully.
    Looking flustered, the owl chick followed his lead, saluting and bowing.
    "It is well that you are alive," said the frog.
    "I wanted to go in and see you," said Starflower. "But after the hairy brute destroyed the door, Dreamcloud thought it would be unwise."
    "I was not prepared for the ambush," said the frog. "It was like the death of Firebuilder Thistle last year."
    Starflower stared at the floor. "Thistle..."
    "This is why it is not a good idea to face the Hurut army alone." He scratched a spot on his right arm, fingers edging towards a long line of stitches running down his bicep.
    "Don't do that, Dreamcloud!" said Starflower. "Nateela said not to or you'll pull them out."
    Dreamcloud put his hand to his side.
    "Have they finished cooking yet?" Templeton asked.
    "I do not know."
    "It sure smells good, though."
    The rat shrugged and walked ahead. The others followed.
    The sheep waved to them as they passed by.
    They crossed the swaying bridge at the far end, coming to a large round cabin encircled by a railing.
    They went in.
    Nightshade stared at his surroundings, eyes traveling over the quilts hanging on the plank walls. Although the colors were a bit dingy, the designs were creative abstractions of birds and plants and letters. The banners that hung next to it overshadowed them in brightness. In the center of the room, two tables, apparently hewn out of whole trees, held groups of animals seated on stools.
    The air full of sound, a brown-black owl leading the group in a tongue twisting patter song reminiscent of Green Grow the Rushes, Oh.
    For a brief second, Nightshade's gaze locked with an otter seated near the doorway.
    He looked away.
    The song ended and the animals cheered.
    The room fell silent. All eyes fell on the newcomers.
    The rabbit got up from a table, leading Nightshade and his friends to the center of the room.
    "Everyone, meet our new guests! I think some of you have met them, but this is Templeton, Dreamcloud, Starflower, and..." He stared at the hybrid. "I never caught your name."
    "That's because I didn't give it," he said with a rather cold tone.
    "It's Nightshade," Templeton hissed, giving the hybrid and uncomfortable glance.
    "And this is Nightshade! Let's be as hospitable and welcoming as we possibly can to our new guests!"
    The animals cheered.
    "Now let's find you a place to sit down."
    The rabbit lead them to the end of a table, offering them stools. "Take a seat, please. Nateela should be done in a little while."
    The newcomers took seats, the rabbit seating himself next to Templeton. "By the way, my name's Torgo. `Go' for short."
    "It is an honor to make your acquaintance," said Dreamcloud.
    Starflower nodded.
    "You should be safe up here, folks," said Go. "The Huruts don't know how to climb trees, or use or pullies."
    "I would not underestimate our enemy," said Dreamcloud.
    "True, true. They are a vicious bunch. Why, I recall, just a month ago, when we found one of their encampments by the roost..."
    "Are you bragging again?" said a voice.
    The rabbit turned his head. The song leader was standing behind him. "Of course not, Hadrian. I was just telling him about what happened to us a month ago."
    "About how you singlehandedly took out their entire encampment by driving a herd of smelly Ganarocs into the leader's tent?"
    "Placing the eggs in the tent wasn't that easy, you know? You had to find their nest and avoid being attacked and sprayed by the mother."
    Hadrian chuckled and shook his head.
    "So there I was, out in the middle of the woods, late at night, just watching this nest, waiting for the mother to sneak out for her nightly foraging..."
    Dishes began clattering, and plates of food were brought out by a pair of snowy owls.
    "Ah!" Hadrian interrupted. "Breakfast is ready."
    Go stopped talking, looking around. "I hope it's not Silagucu and Narehuri again. We had that last night."
    The snowy owls passed around plates and dishes. One settled in front of Nightshade.
    "Well. Leftovers again."
    The room fell quiet.
    The sheep entered the room. He raised his paws, led the group in prayer, then the conversations resumed.
    The animals started digging in.
    Templeton held his fork up to his eye, grinning at Nightshade. "You're behind bars!" He frowned. "Darn. It's only got two tines."
    Nightshade grunted, eating in sullen silence.
    Go took a bite of fish, then swallowed. He looked at the creature next to him. "So...How'd you get the name `Nightshade?'"
    "I earned it. By being just as deadly. If you want a demo, feel free to keep asking stupid questions."
    The rabbit sighed and shook his head, muttering something about Justinian.
    A squirrel leaned over Nightshade's shoulder. "I don't believe we've made the acquaintance. My name is Fide. What's your name?"
    Nightshade just grunted.
    Templeton gave Fide an apologetic shrug.
    The squirrel smirked. "At any rate, we're all glad that your friend pulled through." He went back to his table.
    A white cat put its paw on the rat's shoulder. "Well it looks like your friend is doing better!"
    "Yes, thank you for the company last night, Cara. And thanks for not eating me."
    The cat chuckled, walking away.
    The rat cut his piece of fish. "Say, Starflower, have you ever thought about using Beak-On?"
    The owl stared at him. "What's that?"
    "It's sort of a...putty. You can use it to cover blemishes, heal scratches, and...scars."
    Blank stare.
    "`Apply directly to the beak?'"
    Starflower shrugged.
    Nightshade looked up, glancing at Starflower's beak. A jagged knife gouge ran down the left side, traveling up to connect with a line of stitches on the owl chick's face. He quickly returned his gaze to the whiskered, clownfish patterned thing on his plate.
    "We have a similar medicine. It is a shame that our elders are not alive to tell us its secret."
    The hybrid sawed off a few chunks of Narehuri and ate. It tasted like whitefish and tuna with a slight tinge of chocolate. Not all together unpleasant.
    "So," said Go. "What were you folks doing around Gulobacu?"
    "We are on a quest," said Dreamcloud. "We seek the tribe of Mudepa. Our tribe was attacked by Huruts and we seek allies and companions that wish to rebuild our great tribe."
    The rabbit sighed. "Gee." His floppy ears drooped. "I don't know how to break this to you. The Mudepa are gone."
    "What!" Dreamcloud slammed his knife deep into the table. He bolted into a standing position. His chair toppled over backwards.
    Go swallowed, cowering in fear. "I'm sorry. The Huruts got to them. The tribe is no more."
    "No!" the frog screamed. He stomped out of the room.
    A tear rolled down Starflower's cheek. He stood up and hurried after Dreamcloud.
    Templeton sighed and resumed eating.
    Awkward silence.
    "So, uh..." Go leaned over the table, looking at the rat.
    "Templeton."
    "Templeton. Were you...also...in search of the Mudepa?"
    The rodent shrugged. "My friends were. Me, I just want to get myself and my friends back home."
    "And where is home?"
    "Um, it's...sort of complicated. We came through a movie screen."
    Go looked baffled. "And where is this moving loom?"
    Templeton stared at him, scrunching his eyebrows. "Loom?"
    "The loom you made the screen on."
    The rat rolled his eyes. "Never mind. It's a long story."
    The table became silent.
    "It's not that complicated," Nightshade interjected. "I followed a frog and an owl here from another world, through a magic door that I had no idea existed before then, with the simple intention of seeking out my mother's murderer and finishing what he started. And since these two idiots-" He jerked a finger at Templeton. "Are out of their teeny-weeny minds, they decided to follow me, even though A, they don't know me, and B, none of us have the slightest clue how to get back to our own world. Not that I'm too worried about that, mind you, because there's nothing there for me anyway." The hybrid returned his attention to his plate.
    Go stared at him. "Wow. That's quite a story. I'm not rightly sure I understand it all, or even some of it." He paused. "So magic was involved then?" He munched a piece of fish.
    "That's basically the sum of it, I guess," said Templeton. "We're not from this world. At all."
    "And...your friend is trying to...avenge a death, is that it?"
    Nightshade nodded.
    The rabbit twitched his whiskers. "You and Justinian should have a cup of qino together." He shook his head. "Though I'm sure you'll both give me a solid pounding for making the suggestion."
    There was an awkward silence after this.
    "Tell me, Nightshade. What is it like beyond this `magic portal'? Is it anything like ours?"
    "I could go on and on about that," the hybrid said. "But the only way you'd ever know if I was telling the truth would be to see it for yourself."
    Go grinned at Templeton. "Your friend has a knack for words, doesn't he?"
    Templeton chuckled. "There's some value in brevity."
    The rabbit burst out laughing. "I've been told that my entire life!" He leaned closer to the rat. "But as you can tell, it didn't sink in!"
    "Hah!"
    "You come from the same realm, correct?"
    Templeton shrugged. "Basically. It's a really neat place. It has things like ice cream and television and direct mail!"
    "Direct mail?"
    He laughed. "I run a little business in my free time. I have a...machine that sends letters to animals...to make money."
    Go began giggling. "You must get a lot of exercise!"
    The rat grinned. "You have no idea."
    "Is this ice cream like your `movie scream'?"
    "Nope. Ice cream is made out of naugha milk."
    "Ah! Have you ever milked a naugha?"
    "Nah. I live in a city and buy it from a store. Market."
    "Oh."
    Nightshade finished eating and got up. "Torgo, right?"
    "You can call me `Go," said the rabbit.
    "Go, where do you go to get a workout around here?"
    "Work out? You mean train? I'll show you."
    Go stood up, leading Nightshade and Templeton out the door.
    They crossed the bridge, climbing in a wooden cage at the end of the central platform.
    Go cranked a pulley and they were lowered into a wide empty floor surrounded by bridges. The rabbit turned left, onto a bridge framed by two carved birds of prey. Their wings were folded at their sides, with symbols carved in their breasts.
    They crossed the bridge, coming to a massive dome shaped arena made from pieces of wood, burlap and rope.
    Nightshade followed the rabbit inside its narrow gate, taking in his surroundings with curiosity. The walls were lined with bows and various other weapons, padded suits and stuffed targets. Rows of straw dummies stood in the center, painted to look like Huruts. In a corner he saw tall, rounded posts covered in rods, with a swivel base. The rods were positioned irregularly on all sides, clearly designed for some form of martial arts practice.
    Nightshade carefully looked Templeton up and down, then walked to the display of padded suits, selecting one roughly the rat's size. He tossed it to him.
    "Put that on," he said gruffly. "Your training starts here and now."
    "Um...okay." Templeton said, pulling it over his head.
    Nightshade bounced on his feet like a boxer. "Hit me."
    "What?"
    "Go ahead. Hit me."
    The rat stepped forward in artless stomps, hitting Nightshade with a sissy punch.
    "Is that all you've got?"
    "No. I just didn't want to hurt you, with all those bandages and stitches and all."
    Nightshade laughed. "Try me."
    "No."
    "C'mon. Hit me as hard as you can."
    Templeton scrunched his face in an angry expression. He clenched his fists and charged at the hybrid, throwing a punch at his midsection.
    Nightshade laughed. It felt like a baby was hitting him.
    The rat swung at him again.
    "Ow," Nightshade chuckled.
    Templeton hollered in impotent rage, wailing on the hybrid with his baby fists. He became fatigued, sweaty, gasping for breath. Nightshade just laughed.
    "Sloppy. Very sloppy," the hybrid smirked. "You wouldn't last two hours on your own, out in my world. Not if that's all you've got."
    Templeton shrugged. "I'm a lover, not a fighter."
    Nightshade sighed and shook his head. "You could have at least tried to trip me or hit me in the crotch. Once you get the opponent to the ground, you can even hit him in the eyes."
    "I'm not going to poke your eyes out, Nightshade."
    "I didn't say to poke out my eyes. I just said it's a possib-"
    He fell backwards on the floor. The rodent had stepped around the hybrid's feet while he was talking.
    Templeton straddled his chest, poising his fingers over Nightshade's eyes. "Like this?"
    "Something like that, yeah."
    Nightshade grabbed the rat's paw and yanked it down toward his hip, throwing him off balance. Templeton yelped in surprise as he found himself face-down on the floor with the hybrid's knee pressing on his back, two claws lightly tickling the fur of his exposed throat.
    "But don't be too proud of yourself. Injured as I am, I still saw that attack coming a mile away. I let you gain the upper hand for a second, simply to prove how quickly it can be lost. Had this been an actual combat situation, you would now be dead."
    Nightshade lifted himself off of Templeton's back and offered him a hand up. "Remember that the next time you wanna try pulling a fast one on me."
    Templeton swallowed. "This is why I skipped out on Sensei Smelly's karate class. You think you're just playing around and then, wham! He hits you."
    The hybrid stared at him. "Sensei Smelly?"
    The rat shrugged. "He works at the Cheesetown gym. I went there a couple times. But then I quit. I don't like breaking boards, and he smelled really bad." He sighed. "Got any more ideas?"
    Go leaned against the net, staring at the pair. "I have some chores that need to be done. Unless you need help with the bow or some of these other things here, I shall be leaving shortly. Will you be needing any further assistance?"
    "I'm good, thanks," Nightshade said, looking sideways at Templeton. "But this little guy's in serious need of help. He's just got no stomach for battle."
    Go shrugged. "Okay. If you need anything, just ring the bell." He pointed to the pull by the entrance.
    Nightshade nodded. He turned to Templeton. "Let's try another type of scoop kick."
    The rat adjusted his pads. "All right."
    They spent several minutes practicing various techniques, simple self defense moves that a small individual could pull off without too much difficulty.
    The rat ended up being tackled on the floor again.
    Nightshade heard a giggle. He looked up and saw the mink with the piercings, dressed in medieval garb.
    "Hey, Melissa!" Templeton said from the floor.
    "Hey! Whatcha doin'?"
    "Practicing," he groaned.
    "I got your letter," she said.
    "Cool."
    Nightshade released him.
    The rat got up, brushing himself off. "I can't imagine there's anything entertaining for you to do around here, but, I mean, if you want to wait until we're done..."
    "That's okay," Melissa smiled. "I'm having fun watching you two." She sat down on the floor. "Don't mind me!"
    "Death doesn't wait for you to be ready, Templeton," Nightshade said gruffly. "Try that last one again, and go through it faster this time."
    The rat and the hybrid resumed their sparring.
    Melissa sat with her legs crossed, chin in her hands, watching them.
    The practice continued on for another hour.
    Once Nightshade was convinced that enough training had been done for the day, he gave the rat a restrained nod. "Congratulations. You haven't done a terrible job. But don't it go to your head. Not if you like it where it is, anyway. We'll do some more training tomorrow. I'd say hit the showers, but I doubt they've been invented yet."
    Melissa stood up, offering her hand to Nightshade. "Hi. I don't know if you remember me, but we met at Rot Topik."
    Nightshade didn't take it.
    "Melissa."
    He stared at her. "How'd you get here?"
    "You know how you check a box on a job application that says `willing to relocate'?"
    "No."
    "Well, take my word on it. I checked a box on a piece of paper and now I'm here. It's weird. The Rodante Company has offices everywhere."
    "I think there's a program about them on the Phantasmo show," said Templeton.
    Nightshade shook his head. "I still don't understand. How is this even possible?"
    She shrugged. "I don't know. They had a big machine. Just walked into it because they said to. Okay, so I'm stupid."
    "Templeton," Nightshade said. "How did you get here? And more to the point, why did either of you follow me?"
    Templeton shrugged. "I wanted to rescue you from that frog and his movie, so I stayed in the theater for awhile, trying to see if I could get in there somehow. I kept throwing jujubees at the screen, waiting for them to go into the movie. Eventually they did, so me and Bongo went through."
    "I didn't follow you," said Melissa. "At least not at first. Like I said, I checked a box. But you are cute, and I wanted to hang out with someone I knew from the outside world..." She smiled, turning red.
    Nightshade stared at Melissa. "Okay, wait, back up, hold on. You honestly think I'm cute? How in the whole of the universe could you possibly have gotten that idea?"
    "Well," she said with a smile. "You've got well toned, shapely muscles, a soft, silky coat, and those adorable little ears-"
    "I hate to disillusion you, but these 'well-toned, shapely muscles' are par for the course when you spend every waking moment fighting for survival."
    The mink furrowed her brow, half smirking.
    "And this 'soft, silky coat' could only have happened if someone was grooming me while I slept last night..." he glanced at Templeton, giving him a fierce scowl. "Because when I passed out yesterday from exhaustion and blood loss, my coat was gnarled all to hell."
    Templeton cringed, but didn't reply.
    Melissa shrugged. "It's a shame someone beat you up. You're really quite handsome without all those bandages and bruises. The last time I saw you, you looked nice. Actually," she grinned. "Even now, you don't look that terrible. I still want to touch your coat. It looks really soft."
    She dipped her head, crossing her arms behind her back. "Your wings are nice, too. I often wondered what it would be like to have them wrapped around me like a big leathery blanket."
    Nightshade shot her a confused look. "Oooo...kaaay. Were you attacked by one of those love sprites or something?"
    "Mmmm, maybe," she grinned. "I don't seem to remember that happening, but you never know!"
    "On what planet are ears like this..." He reached up and pinched his ear lightly between his fingers, bending it forward. "Considered 'little'? I don't know if you've noticed, but these things are longer than my open hands." He released his ear. It sprang back into shape.
    "Well, there are, uh, guys, with longer ears." She swallowed. Frowning, she looked away. Her fuzzy face reddened. "I'm sorry. I forgot how sensitive bats are about ear size. You're probably the same way. I'll say nothing more on the matter."
    Nightshade frowned at her. "You don't know me, so let me explain something to you. I'm not sensitive about my ears. They've saved my life more than once. I'm just trying to make sure you've got your head on straight, is all."
    Melissa giggled. "You're not the first to say something like that. I get that a lot." She shrugged. "I was only trying to give you a compliment. Don't sell yourself short." Before he could properly react, he felt her lips pressing against his cheek.
    "Can't help it." Nightshade's fur flickered for a second. "Over the past few years, I've been called a great number of things by a great number of people, but 'cute' has never been one of them."
    She smiled. "Well there's a first time for everything." She reached for his paw, then stopped. "Did your coat just flash?"
    "Wouldn't be the first time," the hybrid said, looking down at his arm. "But don't ask me why it happens, though, 'cause I got no ruttin' idea."
    "Yeah?" she said with a look of mischief. "Well, I have an idea of what causes it!" She tried to kiss him again.
    Nightshade backed away.
    When she gave chase, he planted his feet and placed a firm hand on her shoulder, holding her at arm's length. "Don't," he said seriously. "Just...don't."
    Melissa laughed. "You mean to tell me Mr. Tough Warrior guy is shy around girls?" she giggled. "All right. Then let's hold hands." Melissa grabbed Nightshade's hand, squeezing it.
    Nightshade looked down at his hand, then back up at the female's face. "You don't understand my position, do you?" He forceably yanked his hand free, backing away. "Then let me clear it up a little. The last person I trusted shot me point blank in the chest. And after I woke up from that tied to a chair, I might add, I was beaten to unconsciousness three times in the next twelve hours." Leaning closer, the hybrid lowered his voice. "I think I have a good reason to be shy."
    The mirth dropped from Melissa's expression. "So you won't even hold hands."
    "Sorry. No."
    She shot him a disapproving stare. "You're paranoid. We're in the middle of some bizarre fantasy world light years away from an ATM machine and you think I have a motive to hand you over to...thugs? For what? A magic carpet?" She rolled her eyes. "Let me remind you that you're the one that sent me that letter about how much you wanted to see me."
    "I didn't send you that message. Templeton only asked me if it were all right to send it."
    She shook her head. "Look. I'm a goth, not a felon. I have standards." She walked over to the sword rack a few feet away, pulling out a cutlass.
    Nightshade instinctively backed into a guard stance.
    The mink held the handle of the cutlass against her hip. "I don't even like my boss. The stupid jerk didn't even tell me that I was going to be doing this gig on commission." She raised the blade, waving it at him. "Get what this turkey said to me. `Melissa, how would you like to choose your own hours and earn twice your pay?' Then he gave me this baloney about earning a five hundred thousand pog salary and a fabulous end of the year cruise for power sellers."
    The mink stomped over to a practice dummy. "Then the little turd sends me here." She raised the cutlass, ramming it straight down into the dummy like it were a hunting knife. "He didn't even bother to tell me that I couldn't go back." She turned around to face him. "This is all to say I have no love for my boss or just about anybody I've met in this place, yourself being the exception." She absently clutched the handle of the blade. "I suppose love would be too strong a word, considering the circumstances. But I thought it would at least be easier to make friends with someone who didn't think that television was a pair of binoculars." She sighed. "I guess not."
    Melissa shoved the cutlass in deeper. "I don't know what you're thinking, but I'm not the type that will make secret pacts with creeps just so I can get out of Renaissance Festival Land. As much as the idea appeals to me, I've heard enough stories about jinns and monkey's paws to know better. Don't trust strangers with candy."
    She stomped over to the weapon rack, leaning on a broadsword. "Believe what you want. You're not getting rid of me."
    "Who said anything about getting rid of you?" Nightshade's fur flickered again. "I do like a person who knows what she wants. And assuming your head is on straight, you might just be my kinda stupid. Just... one step at a time, alright?"
    She giggled.
    "What?"
    "Nothing. I just don't hear guys saying that very often."
    She looked at Templeton. "Is it lunch time yet? I'm starved."
    Templeton shrugged. "I guess we could go see Nateela and see if she's got lunch or something for us."
    "Can this `Nateela' cook?"
    The rat nodded. "Can she ever! This stuff beats the heck out of Colonel Flanders!"
    "Sounds good. Lead the way."
    "I wonder what Bongo's doing. I hope he's not starving. Nothing worse than a starving gorilla."
    The group walked out of the training cage, crossing the bridge to the middle platform.
    The sheep sat on a stump, watching them.
    As they came closer, he stood. "Nightshade. May I speak with you?"
    The hybrid eyed the sheep suspiciously. "What about?"
    "I appeared to you in the forest. Do you remember that?"
    "That's not something I'm like to forget in a hurry," Nightshade replied. "Doesn't mean I'm in the habit of taking a projected illusion at his word."
    "That was no illusion." The sheep locked eyes with the hybrid. "The moment you stepped into this film, I knew you were special. I knew you would be the one I would choose. I called you, here, to my Roost, for a purpose. I want you to share my healing power with the world outside this environment, this movie. If you will only hold out your hand, I will grant you my power."
    "Why me?" Nightshade asked, taking a step backward. "There must be others who are more deserving, and more tractable. Why not call one of them? What makes me so special?"
    "I choose everyone at different times and places. Few deserve it. What matters is, I chose you. This gift is here for you. You can either accept it or reject it."
    "You're making no sense," Nightshade replied. "What kind of 'gift' are you talking about?"
    "Healing," Cordero repeated. "Healing of body and being. Healing of wounds, infirmities, injuries. Something different each time. I know that it is difficult for you to trust others, but I have no reason to wish you harm. I only wish to bring good into a hurting world."
    "Nobody offers more than they're asked for unless they want something in return," Nightshade said. "So what do you want from me?"
    "There's no catch. I have restored severed wings, regrown fur coats, healed broken bones, with no payment expected or desired. I only seek to please Quaro, to make this world better to live in. If you feel a payment is necessary, give it to Quaro."
    "I think you can trust him, Nightshade," said Templeton. "His name is in the title of the movie."
    "Well so was Hammabal," said Melissa.
    "It's too bad I didn't read this one." The rat shrugged. "But he already healed your broken bones and everything. He seems like a nice guy."
    "Looks can be deceiving," Nightshade said bluntly, extending his arm. "Take a look at this, for example. Strong, firm muscles, coated but not concealed by lusterless black fur, which is just thick enough to hide the nicks in the otherwise unmarred skin beneath it. You'd never guess from looking at it now that two months ago, a knife wound had partially exposed the surface of the bone."
    Cordero looked unsurprised.
    Letting his arm fall, he looked at the sheep. "There is no doubt that I will recover from yesterday's injuries. I can't stop you from jabbering on until then, any more than I can stop myself from hearing you jabber on, but I have always recovered. However, I'll admit you've aroused my curiousity. So... here's the deal. You have until I've recovered enough to hunt for myself, to convince me that there's something underneath your jabbering that's worth hearing. If you can do that, before I've caught something for my own meal, I will give it fair consideration; if not...I'll fly away and you'll never see me again."
    "You asked questions," said Cordero. "I merely answered them. I have no desire to prove myself. I only demonstrate my power when there is a need. I will say nothing further about this."
    The sheep strode over to Templeton, placing a paw on his fuzzy head. "Take care of our friend." His hoof-like fingers glowed for a brief second as he ran them through the rodent's fur.
    "It is my intention, sir. I always look out for my friends."
    "So where's the food?" Melissa asked.
    Templeton pointed to the elevator. "I think it's this way." He marched ahead in that direction.
    Melissa followed him.
    Nightshade walked past the sheep, giving him a suspicious glance.
    With surprising quickness, Cordero raised a paw, slapping him on the back. "You'll make a great gardener!"
    Nightshade glared at him. "What did you do!"
    The sheep shrugged. "Granted you a gift."
    "What did you mean by that gardener comment!"
    Cordero didn't respond.
    They stared at each other.
    Nightshade walked away. Templeton and Melissa stood near the elevator cage, waiting for him.
    They got in, wheeling to the upper platform.
    As they stepped out, Nightshade noticed a large black owl with a crooked beak crouched by a barrel with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He let out a hacking cough.
    Nightshade looked with disgust at the ugly red bumps covering the creature's face.
    Templeton approached him. "Hey. Are you all right?"
    "Oh yeah," the owl wheezed. "I'm fantastic."
    Nightshade noticed Cordero sitting on a nearby log. He stared at him in shock. "What?"
    "Cordero!" said Templeton, waving to him. "Come over here!"
    The sheep stood, strolling over to the place where the black owl crouched.
    "Can you heal stuff like this?"
    "There's a sick guy over there. Can you heal stuff like that?"
    "I can. But it is not time."
    "Is it contagious?"
    "Yes, but it is curable."
    "Okay, then."
    They walked on.
    The hybrid heard a retching sound. He turned and saw Go leaning over a rail, throwing up. The rabbit's paws had turned a splotchy green, their texture like reptile skin.
    "I hope this isn't an epidemic," said Melissa.
    Nightshade heard a scream. "What's that?"
    "Let's go to the infirmary," said Cordero, walking that way.
    Templeton shrugged and followed him. Nightshade and Melissa trailed behind.
    They came to the hut at the end of the platform. Nightshade watched as Cordero and Templeton stepped through the open door.
    He crept behind them, looking in.
    Nateela knelt beside a straw bed, staring down at an ugly mottled green creature with sharp pointy teeth. The creature roared and screamed, thrashing on the hay.
    "It's one of those things! Templeton cried. "A whatsit!"
    "I think they call them...Hornuts or something," said Melissa.
    "They're called Huruts," Nightshade said. "And I think we're looking at how they spread themselves around." He glanced at the sheep. "And suddenly, I think I know what he just did to me. But don't ask me what I'm supposed to do about any of this."
    Cordero shook his head. "You can do nothing of use here. If the power I granted you could affect this disease, you could cure yourself."
    "What!" the hybrid cried. "I'm not sick!" He coughed twice, staring at the sheep. "I'm fine." He felt his stomach become unsettled.
    "You will be able to do many things, but you will not affect a disease such as this. This is something I must handle alone."
    The Hurut moaned, thrashing in bed.
    The small snowy owl leaned in the doorway. "Is Cephas okay?"
    Nateela nodded. "He's fine, Amo. He just needs some rest." She looked at the sheep. "Please, Cordero. Can't you do something about him?"
    Cordero bowed head. "I can." He just stood there.
    "Well? Aren't you going to help him, then?"
    The sheep sighed. "I will, but it means I must die."
    "Oh Cordero!" Nateela cried. "Don't say things like that!"
    "When I speak, I say the truth." The sheep knelt by the body, placing his paws on it. He raised his head toward the sky, closing his eyes. His paws glowed with a bright blue luminescence that spread up from his fingers, up his wrists and up his arms.
    The creature coughed several times, laying still.
    The green color faded from its body, its scaly puke green deformities receding away. Its noises stopped.
    Cordero fell over on his side, gasping and making moaning sounds of pain.
    Nightshade stared at the body in the bed. In seconds, its shape changed from an ugly green monster to that of a brown-white prairie owl.
    "Holy cow!" said Templeton. "Did you see that?"
    Nightshade nodded.
    "Cordero!" Nateela cried, hurrying over to the sheep. She knelt in front of him. "Cordero! Are you okay?"
    The sheep nodded and sat up. "It is not yet my time."
    "Well," said Melissa. "I guess everything's okay here, right?"
    Nightshade shrugged.
    "Can we have lunch now? I'm starved."
    "I didn't make much of anything," said Nateela. "Everyone wasn't feeling good. I made some bean soup, if you want that, or some dry bread if you want something more solid. I'm sorry the choices are so lean, but we're out of Silagucu wings. We normally lived on fish, but I think something in them is making everyone sick." She coughed.
    Melissa stared at her. "Um...where do you get your water from?"
    "Water?"
    "For your bean soup?"
    "Well, we get water from the river. After I found out about the fish, I started boiling it, so the soup ought to be safe. I've read that boiling can remove bad spirits from water. I tried to use mostly the water we had in storage barrels anyway."
    Melissa looked in the hybrid's eyes. "So, what do you think?" She paused. "Oh. That's right. You're infected." She put a paw on her hip. "I guess I've breathed in enough airbourne contagion to make the question irrelevant anyway, huh?"
    "The dining hall is this way," said Amo, gesturing for her to follow.
    Melissa looked at Nightshade, shrugged and walked after the owl. Templeton followed. Nightshade walked behind them.
    "Ungh, ungh."
    The hybrid looked over his shoulder and saw the gorilla loping towards him.
    "Ungh, oop!" it said to Templeton.
    "So that's what you were doing all this time!"
    "Gibble oop umble."
    "Well, I imagine so. You could have at least told me you were going swimming."
    "Grrrr ooble ump!"
    "Huh! Good for you. But I really wouldn't mind it if you bathed once and awhile."
    The gorilla's shoulders slumped.
    Amo walked up the bridge. Melissa and Nightshade followed, with Templeton trailing behind.
    Bongo came to the edge of the bridge. "Unga bunga booboo!"
    "I don't think so, Bongo. You're heavy."
    "Oogle gump bibble!"
    "I know you're on a banana diet, but look at this thing! It's not a rope bridge, but I don't think it's strong enough to support you!"
    "Ung, bungle?"
    "We're lucky if it holds our weight, Bongo."
    The gorilla sighed.
    Templeton shook his head and walked on the bridge. Nightshade and the others reached the opposite end.
    Creak.
    The hybrid watched as the gorilla made its first steps across the bridge.
    The rat turned around, staring at him in fright. "Bongo! No!"
    Bongo shrugged, marching ahead.
    Templeton backed toward the dining hall.
    Nightshade could see the bridge visibly sway under the weight. Becoming nervous, he undid the bandages on his left wing. Bongo's a lost cause, but I can at least save the rat.
    The gorilla reached the middle, causing the bridge to shake and bow slightly.
    The hybrid removed the bandages on his right wing. He gave both wings an experimental flex and pain shot through his body. He winced. I'll just have to deal with it.
    The rat neared the end of the bridge. "C'mon, Bongo. Careful! Don't do anything silly!"
    "Ungle bungle."
    They came to the end of the bridge.
    Nightshade sighed in relief.
    Templeton walked up to him. "Whoa. It looks like your wings aren't done healing yet. Why'd you take the bandages off?"
    The hybrid shrugged. "Pure foolishness, I guess."
    "Maybe you could get Nateela to dress those again. Of course, she may have just put leeches or something on them anyway."
    They went in the dining hall.
    "I'll get the food," said Amo. She went into the kitchen.
    Everyone else sat down.
    Bongo's stool broke and he crashed to the floor. He let out an angry grunt and stared over the table.
    Dreamcloud walked in the door with his arm around the oil chick. "Have you learned anything new, Shade?"
    Nightshade shrugged. "Other than everyone being sick? Not much. Something in the food seems to have made everyone ill, and the Huruts may have been using it to multiply. That's all I know."
    The frog pointed at the mink. "Who is this?"
    "I'm Melissa. Who are you?"
    Dreamcloud and Starflower introduced themselves. The two tribesmen sat down.
    "So what were you guys doing?" said Templeton.
    "The rite of Qidaieha."
    Starflower bowed his head. "I still have hope that the Mudepa are still alive, though."
    Melissa glanced at Nightshade. "So I take it you know these guys."
    The hybrid nodded.
    "How did you meet?"
    Nightshade gave her a brief recounting of everything that happened since he'd stepped through the movie screen.
    "Wow," she said. "That's really weird. I don't even know how that could be possible, unless there's one of those machines in the projection booth."
    Templeton's eyes widened. "There's a machine? Is that how this thing works?"
    "You got me. All I know is how I got here. I have no idea if a machine brought you here, or some wicked witch's spell."
    "Maybe Cordero brought us here," said the rat.
    Melissa shrugged and said nothing.
    The female owl waddled out of the kitchen with an iron pot in her paws. "Sorry, guys. It's not as hot as it was. It's been sitting over coals for a couple hours. I tried to warm it up a bit, but..."
    "It'll be fine," said Melissa.
    Amo set the pot on the table, then went back into the kitchen.
    The mink rested her chin in her paw. "This is a nice place. Not really my style, but the animals are friendly. It's too bad everyone's got the plague."
    Amo brought out a stack of wooden bowls, setting them in front of everyone, along with spoons.
    "You know what you guys need?" said Melissa. "A big case of penicillin."
    The rat fingered his spoon. "I don't know about the pills, but you can make penicillin out of moldy bread." He glanced at Amo. "Hey. Have you ever thought of giving sick animals moldy bread?"
    The snowy owl scrunched up her face. "Yuck! Why would anyone want to eat fuzzy bread?"
    Templeton shook his head. "Never mind."
    The table fell quiet.
    Amo bowed her head, folding her feathers. She didn't speak.
    "You know," said Templeton. "Cordero prayed over the food last time and it turned out to have...whatever that stuff is in it."
    "Perhaps," said the frog. "It could have been worse if nothing had been said."
    The rat shrugged. "Just an observation."
    Amo said a prayer to Quaro and the soup was poured. They dug in.
    Melissa quickly devoured half a bowlful of the substance. "Nasty beans and weird plants." She shook her head. "I can't believe I'm hungry enough to eat this stuff." She drained the bowl.
    Amo leaned over her shoulder. "Want more?"
    "No thanks. I'm on a diet."
    The snowy owl blinked. "What's a diet?"
    Melissa sighed. "I don't know what kind of rock you're living under, but where I come from, girls have to look pretty, so they can't be all fat and ugly or the guys won't think they're attractive."
    Amo's beak fell open. "Wow! Really!" She put a feathery paw to her beak. "Maybe it's the same here. I just never noticed!" She looked down at her belly, poking it.
    "Pay no attention to that," said Dreamcloud. "In my tribe, a female of healthy girth is valued."
    Melissa laughed.
    Amo fidgeted nervously. "Tell me...ah..."
    "Melissa."
    "Melissa. How does this `diet' work?"
    "Well...you just try to eat as little as possible until you look like a supermodel."
    "A super...what?"
    "A really attractive female that men like."
    "Oh."
    "Ungh ungh oop!" said Bongo.
    "What's going on with him?"
    "Oh, Bongo just said that if you really want to look pretty, you should eat healthy and get lots of exercise."
    Melissa rolled her eyes. "Exercise? Who has the time?"
    "Ungh eeble ork."
    "He says you can always fit a little exercise into any schedule."
    Melissa smirked. "I tried that once, but it didn't work."
    "Gooble gung bungle!"
    "How long did you exercise?"
    The mink sighed, burying her face in her paws.
    "You know, some body fat is natural," said Templeton. "Not everyone is a skinny post. I mean, an elephant can be physically fit and still be..."
    Melissa raised her head, staring at him with disgust.
    "Er," the rat stammered. "I mean, that is, I don't mind a pleasantly plump female. And this is in no way saying that you're plump. In fact, you're a lot skinnier than-" He gave Amo a sidelong glance. "I mean, you're skinny and I don't think you need to starve yourself."
    "But I do!" Amo sobbed.
    "No! I wasn't talking about-"
    "You don't need to apologize. You're right. That's why Hadrian doesn't like me, either!" She ran crying into the kitchen.
    Templeton sighed, smacking his head.
    Melissa glanced at Nightshade. "You've been quiet in all this! What's your opinion on this whole situation?"
    Bongo grunted at Templeton.
    The rat shook his head. "She doesn't want me in there."
    "My opinion? I think the phrase 'beauty is in the eye of the beholder' about sums it up, at least for me," Nightshade said. "I also think that the idea of 'skinny equals attractive' is a severe misconception. People only do that to themselves because they have absolutely no self-respect and a seriously lousy self-image, and for what? Thin is fine, but too many models have kicked it too early because they pushed themselves too hard. There are better ways to look pretty, easier and healthier."
    Templeton glanced at the kitchen door a minute, then slumped his shoulders, staring at the table.
    Melissa stared at the hybrid and frowned. "You're just saying that to be polite. I bet if I gained fifty pounds, you'd be disgusted."
    "If it were fifty pounds of fat, you'd be right," Nightshade said offhandedly. "But I'm close to three hundred pounds, and as you yourself said earlier, it's all solid bone and lean muscle. I wouldn't mind seein' a bit of that on you."
    She laughed. "Well, I have been wanting to bulk up a little..." She flexed her arm. Not very impressive.
    Templeton absently poked his bowl. "Well, that's one owl that will never eat me," he muttered. "Probably thinks I'm highly fattening. I should be grateful."
    The frog turned his head, looking at the hybrid. "Shade. Starflower and I have been discussing our next course of action, but we cannot come to a decision. I wanted to go to the village of the Mudepa to mourn and search for clues about their customs."
    "But I think we should stay here and prepare to fight the Huruts. The animals here are strong. They can help us."
    "Not anymore, Starflower," said Dreamcloud. "They have been afflicted by a bad spirit. This is why we should go grieve the Mudepa first."
    "But we already grieved the Mudepa, Dreamcloud!"
    "It is not the same. We must be there to truly put their spirits at rest."
    "We can grieve them anytime. The Huruts have to be stopped first."
    "There is not enough of us to do any damage."
    Starflower shook his head. "Then we must do something to drive away the bad spirit."
    "I have no tobacco. It will only leave with the fires of tobacco leaves."
    The owl chick frowned. "It didn't make the bad spirit leave Ivystone."
    "I did not sing the right song. The tobacco could have worked."
    Starflower sighed, looking at Nightshade. "You can see our predicament, can't you? What would you suggest?"
    "You're asking me?" Nightshade said. "If you want to go, I'll be right behind you; anything for a good fight. But don't expect me to lead the charge. I'm just a tourist."
    Starflower frowned. "So I guess we're going to see the Mudepa camp, then."
    "You have made a good decision," said Dreamcloud.
    "Well I don't know about that," said Templeton. "What about these poor creatures in this tree village?"
    The frog drummed his pads on the table. "And what can we do about it? I have no tobacco and too many are sick in this tribe as it is. If we collect some tobacco on the way to the Mudepa lands, we may be able to help, but if we stay, we will only get sick along with the rest."
    "You may have a point," said the rat. "But shouldn't we investigate the source of this disease first?"
    "What's there to investigate? The bad spirits come from the east and settle on the weak."
    "Um, beg to differ, but Nateela said something about the food. Wouldn't it be a better idea to check into that? At least kind of look into it a bit before we go traveling across the country looking for an old Indian tribe?"
    Dreamcloud sighed and shook his head.
    Nightshade looked at the rat. "What good would looking into the food do? Even if we found the source of the sickness in the food, what could we do except burn it and hope that the fumes don't kill us? Anyway, I imagine if this disease could be so easily destroyed, Cordero would have done so before it became a problem."
    He turned to Dreamcloud. "In any case, I doubt tobacco will be of any help, and I sure won't help you try it. Where I come from, tobacco is the cause of illness, not the cure. Not this illness, sure, but it does things to your teeth, your skin, your fingers, your hair (if you have any), your eyes, your tongue, your breathing...If you use it too long, it's fatal, and if you use it too often, it's incurable. But hey, you don't have to take my word for it. Just remember what I said when you start using it here, and suddenly realize I'm nowhere to be found."
    "You are mistaken," said the frog. "What you are saying about tobacco is only true if you abuse it. Moonberry wine can also be fatal in excess. We only use tobacco for ceremony and cures. Used rightly, it purge impurities from the body."
    Nightshade scrunched up his nose in disgust. Shaking his head, he replied, "Believe what you want. Like I said, if and when you start using it, I will disappear."
    "We put it in teas," said Starflower. "It can also be chewed."
    The hybrid just shook his head. "Whatever. But if you want to go find this tribe, I'll be right behind you. But please be quick about it. I admit I don't know much about this world's diseases, but there's a very serious one that I'm sure exists in both our worlds, and it feeds off of inactivity, so there's a very good chance I'll contract it before too long if we keep sitting around here. Rather like a wild predator, it's very subtle the way it sneaks up on you, and there's no telling who it'll take next until it has. Left untreated, it's only a matter of time before the afflicted goes completely insane."
    The rat scrunched up his face. "Are you telling me you know what this thing is?"
    "No, but I have some guesses."
    Templeton sighed. "All right. I guess we'll go on this wild goose chase. But I still think we're going about this the wrong way."
    Dreamcloud stood up. "Let us go. If there are any Mudepa left alive, they may not be so for much longer."
    Bongo let out a grunt and a growl.
    "You're right, Bongo. We need supplies. We can't be caught off guard like last time."
    "I've got some tools and weapons in my wagon," said Melissa. "And some food."
    "Is there enough for all of us?"
    She shrugged. "Probably not."
    "Then maybe we should see what we can pick up around here." Templeton stood up, walking to the kitchen door. "Hi."
    "Go away," said the voice inside.
    "Look. Uh, sorry for what I said."
    "Sorry for what! You were telling the truth!"
    The rat swallowed. "Look. Before you starve yourself into a skeleton to bring yourself up to a rodent's unrealistic standard of beauty, could you please help us get some supplies for our trip?"
    Long pause. "What do you need?"
    "Whatever you can give us. Provisions, weapons, armor..."
    No reply.
    "Well, can we at least borrow the weapons from the training area? We'll try to bring them back in one piece..."
    "Those are training weapons," said Amo. "You don't want to use them in battle."
    The white owl walked out, leading Templeton out the door.
    Nightshade got up and followed him, with Melissa, Dreamcloud and Starflower following close behind.
    They stepped out on the bridge, swinging back and forth as they made their way to the middle.
    Nightshade looked over the edge. The bridge was about four stories above the ground, dangling over an area full of weeds and rocks. He went on.
    As Templeton and Amo neared the opposite end, Nightshade heard a soft thud, and the entire bridge shook.
    The hybrid turned and saw Bongo stepping on the planks. He hurried on, reaching the middle.
    Bongo waddled further in, his weight and movements causing the bridge to shake violently.
    Snap. The ropes on the left side of the bridge suddenly dropped away.
    Snap. The right side fell.
    Nightshade looked back and saw nothing holding the end of the bridge in place but air.
    Dreamcloud and Starflower let out a shout of surprise. Bongo roared in shock.
    The bridge started falling.
    Nightshade grabbed Melissa under the armpits and flapped his wings, rising up into the air. The bridge tumbled beneath him.
    He tried to stay aloft and fly to the end of the bridge, but his wings stiffened with searing pain and he fell.
    Fighting the agony, he straightened his wings again, attempting to glide the rest of the way to the ground. Their descent slowed for a moment, but then his wings gave out and they fell.
    Running out of options, the hybrid rolled himself beneath Melissa and shut his eyes, bracing for impact.
    Poof!
    He opened his eyes and found himself enveloped in impossibly thick clusters of sunflowers and cushy patches of the type of grass that clogs lawnmowers.
    Melissa looked down at him with an expression of amazement. "Did you just see that?"
    "See what?"
    "Those sunflowers! They just sprung out of the ground from nowhere! And that grass! I saw it growing out of the ground as we fell! It just popped out like it was on steroids!"
    Nightshade furrowed his brow, shooting her a confused look.
    The mink shook her head. "Well, thanks for trying to save me, at any rate." She gave him a quick kiss on the muzzle and climbed off him.
    She stood up and looked around, examining the flowers. With a thoughtful look, she patted her waist several times.
    She looked down, examining a pouch attached to her belt. Its bottom had been ripped open, as if something had exploded inside it.
    She stared at the plants in disbelief. "No way!"
    "What?"
    "This is very bad science, but I think these plants grew out of the barbecue sunflower seeds I had in my pocket!"
    Nightshade frowned. He sat up and immediately felt a stab of pain. Once the pain passed, he absently plucked a seed from one of the flowers. As he rolled it in his fingers, it exploded into a small sunflower plant. Shocked, he stared at it, not believing what he was seeing.
    "Nightshade! Are you all right?" a voice called.
    The hybrid looked up and saw Templeton standing over the end of the bridge, looking down at him.
    "Yeah! I'm fine! How's Dreamcloud?"
    "He's just fine!" Templeton pointed down. The frog had attached its sticky finger pads to the slats of the bridge, and was now slowly climbing up.
    Nightshade looked down a bit and saw the owl chick perched on the floor below, watching Dreamcloud climb.
    Amo leaned over the bridge. "You don't have to climb all the way up! We're planning to go down there anyway! I'll meet you on the lower level!"
    The frog kept climbing.
    "He's so stubborn!" Starflower complained.
    "Bongo!" Templeton shouted. "Can you make it down to the next floor?"
    Nightshade saw the ape hugging a tree below the dining hall platform, looking terrified.
    "Umble bunk boop umba bumple!"
    "You've got to try, Bongo! You're too heavy for any of us to carry!"
    The gorilla grunted angrily. "Umble oop pumblebunk!"
    "Can't you swing on a vine or something?"
    "Grabble oompa boomble boo boo!"
    "Well you're not going to go across another bridge unless it's made of reinforced concrete! It's just not safe!"
    Bongo let out a roar.
    "What's concrete?" Amo asked.
    The rat shook his head. "I'm sorry, Bongo!"
    "Ask him if he can slide to the ground. That's where we're heading anyway."
    "Bongo! Can you slide to the ground?"
    Bongo paused. He let out grunts, then nodded, worming his way down.
    "Well," said Melissa. "It looks like nobody was hurt." She stared off toward the trees. "Let's go to my wagon. I'll show you what weapons I've got."
    Nightshade nodded and got up.
    Melissa marched ahead a foot, then tripped. "Hey!" She fell on a patch of rocky dirt. "Ow!"
    The hybrid hurried over to her. "You all right?"
    Melissa brushed the dirt off her white arms. "Yeah. I just rammed my foot into something."
    Nightshade examined the ground where she had tripped. He saw something metallic glinting in a patch of grass nearby. He picked it up and recognized it as one of the fireplace pokers he'd found at Dreamcloud's camp. He wasn't sure how it got there, but he was glad to at least get one thing recovered from the Huruts. He searched the area for more of his things, but couldn't find anything.
    "What's that?" Melissa asked.
    Nightshade showed her. "It's the only weapon I've got right now, is what it is. And seeing as how my wings are dead at the moment (so much for healing), I'm going to need the best weapons I can find."
    "Oh."
    They marched on ahead, with Nightshade constantly scanning the ground for additional accessories, wondering how the poker got there in the first place.
    They went around a large dead tree, crossed a hill, and came to a battered pile of wood and metal, smashed up on a rocky patch of dirt near the base of an oak. A ripped pile of canvas lay strewn among the debris, with the shapes of boxes and round disks poking up underneath.
    Looking angry, Melissa picked up the remains of a wood and metal wagon wheel, setting it up against a log. "What the hell happened? Where the frag is my Kahodi?"
    After fruitlessly searching the surrounding area for a few minutes, she gave it up. "Damn." She lifted up a sheet of canvas, examining the debris. Nightshade saw nothing but empty wooden crates and boxes.
    "Where are my things? I had food and supplies and weapons here!"
    He suddenly heard strains of Frank Zappa's Lumpy Gravy playing.
    "The phone!" Melissa cried, digging through the wreckage. "Where is it? Where is it?"
    The song kept playing.
    "Where is it?" She threw aside her broken dishes, piles of ripped clothing, shredded books, carpenter's tools and other assorted debris, frantically searching for the source of the music.
    Nightshade pointed to a spot in the debris. "If you're looking for the source of that music, it's over there."
    Melissa cleared a spot, revealing a small rounded gray object.
    "Please don't hang up! Please, oh please!"
    The music stopped.
    She snatched the phone up, opened the panel, and pushed the talk button. "Hello? Hello?" She shook her head and closed it again.
    "I lost it." She pushed a button, scrolling through a menu. Her eyes widened as she stared at the screen. "PRIMO Fitness?" She dialed a number. She paused. A minute passed. "Damn."
    With a sigh, she put it in a pouch.
    "Why didn't you bring that along with you in the first place?"
    The mink glared at him. "Look. I've carried it around for days and haven't gotten a single call. I'd pretty well given up on it. I was only carrying it around to use it for a flashlight, so I left it in the caravan until I needed it. I wasn't expecting a group of thugs to come and smash everything up, either." She shook her head. "PRIMO Fitness."
    Something rustled in the weeds near the distant trees, periodically making hollow drum sounds as it went.
    Nightshade's ears perked up. He looked over that way and saw a bulky, hunched over shape hurriedly crashing through the foliage on its knuckles.
    It came nearer. Bongo. The ape clenched a rope in its teeth, dragging along a big board. It knuckle scraped its way up to Melissa, took the rope out of its mouth, and waved the board in her face, grunting excitedly.
    "What! It's just a stupid board! What do you want!"
    Bongo growled, then showed Nightshade. By this time, the board had been flipped over, and he could see what the ape had been so excited about. Someone had drawn an intricate design on the wood. Not being able to give it a careful inspection on account of all the waving, he snatched it out of the ape's hands and set it on the ground.
    He was looking at a map.
    "Kapacuda?" he muttered. "What's that?"
    "Animals here claim that Kapacuda can remove toxins from your body."
    With a grunt, Bongo knuckle pounded his way towards a set of trees a few yards away, where the pulley elevator was descending. Nightshade and Melissa followed him.
    The wooden cage landed on the ground.
    Nightshade saw Amo kissing Templeton on the head. She smiled, rubbing the fur between his ears. Dreamcloud was looking straight ahead, his fellow tribesman glancing sidelong with a slight frown on his beak.
    Furrowing his brow, Nightshade walked up to the cage, showing the snowy owl the board.
    "Wow! Where'd you get this?"
    "Not sure. Bongo had it."
    "Ungh oop umbula."
    "It came off the bridge," said Templeton.
    Amo furrowed her brow. "Kapacuda! This could cure everyone!"
    "What's Kapacuda?" said Templeton. "Some kind of island resort?"
    "Kapacuda are extremely rare. Many of our founders owed their lives to their curative properties. If we could get some, we may be able to beat this disease."
    "Kapacuda are useless against this type of bad spirit," said Dreamcloud. "Kapacuda are only good for healing wounds, stomach illness, drunkenness and the six day spirit."
    "It cured Moonglow of the spotted plague!" said Starflower.
    "This is not the spotted plague. We should get tobacco."
    The snowy owl picked up the board, examining it more closely. "It looks like one of the founders wrote this. I wonder why they put it on the underside of the bridge?" She stared at it. "We've never gone to this area. If someone can go there and bring back a pile of them, we may be able to heal everyone."
    "You may try," said Dreamcloud. "But I'd advise you to save it for wounds and the yellow Darafaru." He looked at Nightshade. "Let us see their weapons and seek out the Mudepa camp."
    Templeton twisted his lip. "You know, this Cuba-Bermuda thing actually sounds like a plan." He gazed in the hybrid's eyes. "And we'd be out of the infected area." He shrugged. "Are we still going on this plan to find a dead tribe?"
    "I don't see much of a difference," said Melissa. "Both these ideas seem pointless. We're either looking for a dead tribe or following a map written on the back of an old 2X4. At least we'll have less of a chance of catching...whatever it is."
    Templeton's whiskers twitched. "So, what's the plan, Nightshade? Are we still going after dead Indians? Or do you want to try the 2X4 map?"
    "I'd say get some weapons first, then decide how you're going to use them," Nightshade replied. "But that's just my opinion."
    "This way." Amo pointed at a path leading through a wooded area full of weeds, vines and branches.
    They marched that way, down a slope, the roots of the trees forming something like uneven steps along the path.
    Templeton turned the plank over. "Nightshade, did this thing have sprouts on it before?"
    Melissa stared at it. "What? Sprouts?"
    "No."
    They walked on.
    Amo turned, walking straight into a curtain of tall ragweed. Melissa sneezed. Templeton grimaced and wiped his nose.
    They wandered through the weeds a few paces, coming to a wide, cracked patch of dirt crisscrossed with with vines.
    Amo strode up to a vine attached to a nearby sapling, picking it up.
    "I wouldn't do that if I were you," said Templeton. "That looks like poison-"
    The snowy owl gave the vine a hard tug. It wiggled through the dust like a snake, becoming taut as a rope as she pulled. In the distance, Nightshade could see a vine shaking at the base of a tree stump.
    Amo pulled again and he heard a click.
    The ground surrounding the stump opened up like a vast mouth, exposing a dark stone vault. Amo stepped forward.
    Nightshade followed her between the weeds and down a wide staircase lined with statues of predatory birds with symbols on their outstretched wings.
    They entered a square chamber, lit only by the outside sun. Directly ahead, Nightshade could see a large, circular shaped piece of masonry with a catfish shaped symbol in its center.
    Amo took something out from under the fur around her neck, and pulled a necklace chain over her head. She placed the object in the center of the catfish, then stuck a finger in a nearby socket, giving the symbol a turn. She whirled it around several times, matching up to several small symbols surrounding it, as if undoing a sort of combination lock.
    Nightshade heard a loud click and the wall opened on both sides of the circle. He saw tunnels beyond, leading into darkness.
    "I'm not really supposed to show this to you," said Amo. "But I think everyone will be sick anyway."
    The hybrid nodded.
    "Promise you'll bring the weapons back when you're done with them."
    "Okay," said Templeton.
    "Wait," said Nightshade. "These are weapons we're talking about. There's no way we can make good on that promise if we're using them."
    Amo frowned. "Well, do your best. I'm going to get in trouble if you don't."
    "We'll try."
    Amo shot him a disappointed look, then stepped through the opening.
    Nightshade and the others followed her in, down a staircase, into an unlit chamber.
    There was click, then all the light disappeared.
    "Here we are!" said Amo. Something rustled in the dark. A pair of claws clicked across the stone floor. "I think you'll get in trouble if you use these, but I think you can use the stuff over here."
    Nightshade made a small hum. He could sense a group of something like trophy cases in front of him, a set of chests to his left, and a row of weapon racks off to his right.
    "What stuff?" said Templeton. "I can't see my paw in front of my face."
    "No kidding!" said Melissa. She sighed. "Owls."
    "Oh. Right. I forgot you don't see in the dark."
    Nightshade heard a chest being opened.
    "I don't see a name over this one," said Starflower. "Who is this for?"
    Click, click, click. "Oh. That one? Well, honestly I have no idea. Cordero set that one up there and said it was for the son of Papias."
    Silence. Click, click, click.
    Nightshade heard a click, then saw Amo holding a lit torch.
    "Good," said Melissa. "I was thinking I'd have to drain my cel phone battery."
    The snowy owl lit another torch, handing it to Nightshade. She gave another to Templeton and gave hers to Melissa.
    The hybrid took in his surroundings. Ahead, he saw a series of stone enclosures containing various weapons. One held a gold bow and a gold trimmed quiver full of arrows with red heart shaped tips, with a gold watch-like device on a chain hanging above it. The enclosure next to it held a broadsword in a sheath, a red tower shield with a cross on it, and a gold sash. Next to that was an enclosure with another bow, and silver tipped arrows. Next to that was a scimitar, then a series of stone shelves containing a necklace, a pair of boots, a helmet, and a collar. Next to those things held a metal breastplate, and next to that a shield, metal shoulder plates, and a sword, then another bow and quiver of arrows. All of the items had names carved in the stone above them, except for the scimitar and breastplate.
    Starflower tapped the breastplate. "And what about this one? Who is this for?"
    Amo twisted her beak a second. "Cordero said it was for the brother of Sunfeather."
    "Dreamcloud! That's you!" said Starflower.
    The frog shook his head. "This cannot be. There must be another Sunfeather I do not know about. Perhaps among the Mudepa."
    Nightshade looked off to his right and saw rows of wooden racks with swords, maces, and assorted pieces of armor in them. He walked over that way, going straight for the back corner so he could work his way toward the front.
    Click. He looked down.
    Below him was a curious arrangement of nine stone tiles, with directional arrows carved into them. He stared at the tiles in curiousity.
    Melissa leaned over his wing. "What are you looking at?" She looked down. "Hey! That looks kind of like a Stomp Stomp Irritation platform!"
    "Did you say Stomp Stomp Irritation?" Templeton walked around the hybrid, staring at the floor. "Great! Now where's the music?"
    "What are you looking at?" said Amo.
    "Um..." Templeton stammered. "There's...markings on the floor. It looks like a game from my world. In the game, you dance, or stomp on a square based on the musical pattern. If you see two up arrows, you stomp it twice." The rat pressed a foot on one of the panels. Click. It depressed. He examined a circular tile next to the nine square. "I wonder what this does." He poked it and the tiles popped back up. "Maybe that's a reset or something."
    Melissa shrugged. "Well I don't hear any music."
    Amo rubbed her beak. She picked up the plank, turning it on its side. After staring at it a bit, she showed it to Templeton. "Does this help any?"
    Templeton squinted at it. "That's it! Look, Nightshade!" He showed it to him.
    All along the side of the board were arrangements of arrows of various patterns.
    The rat scanned the board a few times, then set it on the floor. He handed his torch to Amo. "All right, stand back, nonbelievers!"
    He set about stomping. About a quarter in the pattern, he stopped. "Oops." He stared at the board, then reset the tiles. He danced through the pattern again, then stopped. He picked up the board. "Someone's going to have to read this while I dance. Unless anyone else wants to give it a try."
    "No thanks," said Melissa. "That game sucks."
    "Bungle ump," said Bongo.
    Templeton shook his head. "I'm not sure that's a good idea. Remember what you did at Cheesy Charlie's?"
    The ape let out a disappointed grunt.
    "Anyone else?"
    The others had looks of bafflement on their faces, except for Nightshade.
    "Well?"
    Nightshade shrugged and stepped forward, taking the 2X4. "Since no one else seems able to do this, I'll just have to show you how it's done." Handing off his torch, he stomped the "up" button, then "left." He then stomped down, up, left and right at the same time, up twice, down, left twice and right once.
    As he tapped out more of the pattern, he noticed sprouts and leaves growing out of the board. Annoyed, he brushed them out of the way and stomped the next part.
    He heard a mechanical sound, then he saw a section of the wall slowly grind open, revealing another dark chamber.
    "Wow! What's that?" said Amo.
    Nightshade marched up to the wall, leaning through the opening. With sonar, he could sense a pair of metallic objects hanging on a wall, a box, and shelves containing something. Templeton handed a torch to him.
    "What's in there?"
    "I don't know." Nightshade stepped ahead.
    The interior was like a small cave, with stalagtites and stalagmites growing out of the edges of the ceiling and floor. The metal objects turned out to be a pair of gauntlets with brass trim, hanging in a stone enclosure. Mounted on the tip of each finger was an inch-long, well sharpened steel blade, giving the appearence of powerful claws. Seeing a carved inscription above them, he stepped closer.
    To the moviegoer in Theater 12, Seat B, it said.
    Nightshade found himself trying to reach back behind himself to feel the metal numbers on the chair, but nothing was there.
    "What's it say?" Templeton asked.
    The hybrid read the inscription.
    "Nightshade! This stuff! It's...for you!"
    Nightshade stared at him.
    "Do you know any other moviegoers in this area?" He held up his fists. "I'm certainly not going to wear them! I think I was in 22B anyway."
    Nightshade plucked the gauntlets off the wall, examining them. Although covered in dust, the metal looked brand new. Unused. He blew the dust off, slipping one on his right hand.
    He felt a small object stuck inside the index finger. He pulled his hand out and shook it, and a small key clattered to the floor.
    Templeton snatched it up. "Cool!" He went over to the wooden chest against the wall, trying it in the lock. It opened. He tried to pop the lid, but it was too close to the wall, so he had to drag it forward a few inches. The lid fell open.
    "Neat! What is all this?" The rat pulled out a small scroll with wooden handles, gazing at it in the torch light. "To Falling Leaf," he read. "And a bunch of incomprehensible gobbletygook."
    "Dad!" Starflower cried, dashing into the room. He snatched the scroll out of the rat's hands, breaking the wax seal. He unrolled it, staring at the parchment. He was silent for several minutes.
    Templeton dug in the chest again, bringing out a swirling green-blue egg with a ribbon around it. He read the writing on the ribbon. "So this is an army? Ho ho! Some army that is!" He put it back, bringing out an ugly wooden mask. He held it in front of his muzzle, but Starflower didn't react. He waved at Melissa.
    She just shook her head.
    He went back to digging.
    Nightshade put the gloves on, closing his fists with a satisfied smile as the metal claws clicked against a protective plate on the palm. He was surprised to notice how well they fit; there was even a small space inside the fingers where his own natural claws could extend freely. He flexed his fingers, staring at the wall on the right end of the chamber. Someone had carved a large iconic symbol on the rocks, a honeycomb made up of seven very large dots, with the top one filled in. A fat letter M was positioned next to it. It struck him that he remembered that same logo appearing on something related to a laboratory. He shook his head, not knowing what to think about it.
    He turned and faced the rack next to the gauntlets. The top shelf contained a wooden box. He set the gauntlets aside for a moment and pulled down the box. He opened it. Inside he found an unmarked casette tape inside a plastic case, a green card key, and a five inch floppy disk. He stared at them in puzzlement for a minute, then closed the box. There was nothing in the room designed for use with such things. He put it back on the shelf.
    He heard a sniff. He looked over and saw Starflower crying.
    "I didn't know," the owl chick sobbed. "I didn't know!"
    Templeton patted him on the back. "There, there. It's okay."
    Nightshade looked back at the shelf.
    The shelf below the box held a manual with a red plastic cover. He picked it up, thumbing through the pages.
    The cover sheet said Project 9.482037E827535, with the same seven dot logo above it. The pages that followed contained complicated equations, charts of chromosome sequences, and pages of scrawled notes and diagrams. It seemed familiar. He flipped back to the front cover and saw a name below the title. Dr. Darren Black.
    That explains why this all looks so familiar, Nightshade thought to himself, closing the manual. But how in all the hells did Darren find his way down here?
    Receiving no answer, he shook his head.
    Beneath the shelf with the notebook, he found a leather pouch. He picked it up, opening it. Inside he found a quantity of silver coins. A piece of parchment was tucked in between them, which read `To my son.' He somehow doubted it was intended for him. He held onto it anyway, watching as Starflower wept, the rat trying to comfort him.
    Dreamcloud came in the room, standing next to the owl chick. "What is the matter?"
    Starflower handed him the scroll.
    "Here," said Templeton, handing him his torch.
    The frog stared at the parchment for a few minutes, then handed it back. "He told me to keep you safe from enemies and to raise you as our own."
    Starflower sniffed and wiped his eyes. "He's dead, isn't he?"
    "That I do not know."
    "Why didn't you tell me?"
    "What would his name mean to you? He didn't even tell me where he lived."
    The two went silent.
    Templeton pulled a silvery puck shaped object out of the chest, his eyes bugging out as he stared at it. "What in the world is this?" He pushed a button and a green light came on. "Wow. That's weird." He pushed another button and a red light appeared on the puck. "I wonder if those are LED's."
    "Stop that sorcery!" Dreamcloud snapped.
    "Sorry," the rat said with annoyance. "Let me figure out how to shut it off." He poked a few more buttons, lit more lights, and eventually had it dark again.
    He put it back inside, then took out a cloth bag that jingled as he picked it up. He opened it. "Gold!" He set it down. "Well that's neat."
    Starflower cried some more. Dreamcloud patted his back. Nobody said anything for a moment.
    "Well," Starflower sniffed. "I guess that bow in there is for me."
    Dreamcloud nodded. "Papias," he muttered, looking confused.
    Nightshade stared at the items on the shelf again. I've got to take these along.
    "Where's this `pouch' he's talking about?" Starflower asked.
    Templeton held up the cloth bag.
    "I don't think that's it. He said `gold' and `this pouch.'"
    Nightshade held up the pouch in his hand. "Is this it?"
    Starflower dashed over to him, snatching it out of his hand. He opened it, staring inside. He started crying again. With a sigh, he closed it and strapped it around his chest.
    "We should go," said Dreamcloud. "Let us get weapons and seek out the Mudepa."
    Starflower nodded.
    The two tribesmen stepped out of the room.
    "We should take this chest along. I think we may be able to use this `army' and stuff." He looked at Nightshade. "Want to put anything in the chest?"
    The hybrid put the things from the shelf into the chest.
    Templeton whistled. "Bongo!"
    The gorilla knuckle scraped its way in.
    "We need you to carry this until we can find something better to carry this stuff in."
    Bongo moaned and nodded, carrying it out of the room. The others followed him out.
    Starflower sniffed and marched up to the unmarked enclosure. He picked up the scimitar, giving it a good look.
    Dreamcloud leaned over his shoulder. "That appears to be durable. It will be sufficient." He walked over to the breastplate, rubbing his chin. "Papias." He picked it up, staring at the giant embossed letter R on the left breast. "Papias. Your memory will be honored." He raised the armor over his head, putting it on.
    He went over to the weapon racks, appraising the bows and arrows. He selected a pair of them, and a quiver, marching to the exit. "I am ready."
    Melissa picked up a large broadsword, drawing it from the sheath. "Bijjin!" She strapped the weapon around her waist, then slung on some chain mail.
    Templeton grabbed a dagger. He tried on some plate and chain mail, but it was too heavy, so he left it there, grabbing some leather armor and a small shield instead.
    Bongo, of course, could find nothing much of use for protection or defense. The armor was too small, the weapons requiring more dexterity than his thick fingers could afford.
    In addition to grabbing a shield, Starflower found a metal protective plate, a lightweight piece of armor designed for owls, putting it on. Seeing it to be a good idea, Nightshade picked one up. Too heavy, he thought, moving on. He picked up a piece of leather avian armor, putting that on instead. He was surprised to see leather helmets with ear holes on one of the racks. A couple were too small, but he tried on another and it actually fit. Grabbing three different pairs of leather pants, he went into the darkened vault and tried them on. He discarded one of them, then came back out.
    Now fully equipped, the group stepped out the entry tunnels, gathering at the stairs.
    Nightshade gazed out the opening of the chamber. The sun had already turned red, indicating that it would soon turn dusk in a few hours.
    "So," said Templeton, waddling up to him. "We're all set. How about we follow the directions on this 2X4 and see if we can cure some folks around here?"
    "We accomplish nothing by pursuing weeds," said Dreamcloud. "We should make haste to see if any Mudepa have survived."
    Templeton sighed and shook his head.
    "Didn't we already follow the directions on that thing?" Nightshade asked, gesturing to his new leather armor. "That's how we got all this, isn't it? Let's not forget that nobody else had seen these carvings since the board was put into the bridge... With how little space there must be left on that thing, after the map and the combination to that weird lock, what else could there be to see?"
    "What are you talking about?" said Amo. "I don't need a map to find this place. This is the armory for the Roost. My friends and I come down here all the time to get ready for battle." She pointed to the board. "You're holding a map of the north country. It's miles away from here."
    "And plus," the rat added. "There's no Capbermuda here."
    "But what about the dance moves?" said Melissa.
    Amo shrugged. "I always wondered why those squares were on the floor, but none of us could figure it out. I guess the founders wanted someone prepared before they sought out the Kapacuda."
    Melissa put a hand on her hip. "I still don't see how seeking out the whatever tribe or finding this plant will get us home."
    "Still," said Templeton. "I'd think that resolving an important problem like this, like curing the Roost of...whatever, will help the movie to end quicker, so we can possibly get out of here. That sheep's name is in the title, after all."
    The frog shook his slimy head. "If you wish to solve an important problem and return to your magic cave, then you should solve the problem of the Huruts slaughtering the last of the Mudepa."
    Starflower stared at the floor, looking glum.
    Melissa sighed. "Look. Let's just toss a coin and go with it. If we don't start heading somewhere soon, I'm going to find one of those little huts and go to bed until you guys can figure it out."
    "Finally, an unbiased idea!" Nightshade exclaimed. "So who's got the coin? Heads, we clear up these glorified head-colds; tails, we save the tails of the Mupeda. Whaddya say?"
    Melissa opened a pouch on her belt, taking out a quarter. She held it up for Dreamcloud to see. "Call it."
    "Call what?"
    "Heads or tails."
    Nightshade coughed several times. They were the nasty sort of coughs that had substance to them.
    Melissa stared at him. "Are you all right?"
    "Yeah. Fine."
    She turned her attention back to the frog. "Heads or tails."
    The frog still looked blank, so she brought it closer, showing him a side. "Heads." She turned it over. "Tails."
    "I do not understand."
    "Practice toss," said Melissa. "Say heads or tails."
    "Heads or tails."
    The hybrid coughed.
    "No. Say one or the other."
    "One or the-"
    Melissa sighed. "C'mon. Pick the front or the back side of the coin so I can show you."
    "Back."
    She tossed the coin and slapped it on her wrist. She showed him. "Tails."
    Dreamcloud frowned. "And we are basing this important decision on this?"
    Melissa shrugged. "Define important." She twirled the coin in her fingers. "Now let's do this for real. Frog, you pick heads or tails, or front and back. Rat, you pick the other."
    "My name is Dreamcloud," said the frog.
    Melissa rolled her eyes. "Just pick a side."
    The hybrid felt another cough coming on, but he held it back.
    "What if I don't want to? This is as foolish as picking Ruma and Boti."
    "It's better than sitting here and bickering all day."
    "Shade thinks it's a good idea," said Starflower.
    The frog frowned. "Front."
    "Back," said Templeton. "I mean, tails."
    Melissa flipped the coin. "Tails."
    "Good!" the rat exclaimed. "Now let's see where this map leads!" He held the board up, squinting at it.
    Nightshade coughed.
    "You've got it upside-down," said Amo. She turned it around the other way.
    Templeton waddled closer to the stairs, squinting his beady eyes. "Um...where is this supposed to me?"
    Amo leaned over his shoulder. "That's Adapala. It's across the Porijenu and over the Jilijusi Hills."
    "And how do we get there?"
    "It's easy enough," said Dreamcloud. "But I think this quest is pointless." He stared at the entrance, looking angry.
    "So..." Templeton pointed to a spot on the board. "Which way to that river?"
    The snowy owl examined the map a bit. "I'll show you. Might as well come along anyway." She went back in the weapon room, coming back with leather chest protection, a bow and a quiver of arrows slung over her shoulders, and the gold watch necklace hanging from her neck. "Okay." She marched up the stairs.
    The rat shrugged and followed her. Nightshade and Melissa walked up alongside them, while Dreamcloud and Starflower trailed behind, muttering to one another. Nightshade's sensitive ears picked up most of the conversation. Dreamcloud wanted to leave the group, to go after the Mudepa. Starflower expressed his doubts, but eventually conceded.
    "You're the only family I know. I can't leave you, even if you're wrong. I won't leave you, Dreamcloud."
    Dreamcloud went silent.
    The hybrid wiped his nose. It had started running and showed little sign of stopping.
    The group stepped out into the field. Amo tugged on the poison ivy rope and the stump went back down over the entrance. She gestured to the weeds at the end of the clearing.
    They crossed back out, up the path, and forward below the tree houses.
    Amo marched ahead, down a trail, through a clearing surrounded by tall crab grass, and over a ridge. Nightshade and the others followed, coming to a field of plantains and dandelions.
    The hybrid sneezed.
    They came to a sloping hill. A big wiggling silver-blue ribbon of water could be seen beyond.
    The hybrid followed Amo around a tree and down a narrow dirt path surrounded by tall foxtail plants and sycamore trees. The trail dropped and became narrower, then narrower still.
    Nightshade heard the sound of rushing water. As he stepped ahead, his feet encountered piles of flat, sharp edged chert that scattered with a hollow crunching sound. They stepped out onto a rocky shore alongside a wide rushing river.
    Amo walked over to a nearby cluster of bushes, staring in. "It's gone! The canoe is gone!" She frowned, staring at the rocks. "Now what do I do." She looked up at the trees.
    "Let's just swim across," said Dreamcloud.
    "What!" the rat exclaimed. "And ruin all our stylish medieval weaponry?"
    "We waste time. If we need to go across, let's go across."
    "You're an Indian," said Melissa. "Can't you just carve one out of a tree or something?"
    "I don't know what this `Indian' is you refer to, but I'd prefer if we didn't. That could take an entire day." He waded in a few feet, then gestured to the water.
    With a shrug, Starflower flapped his wings, flying over to the opposite shore.
    Nightshade saw Amo sneak behind the rat.
    "Hey!"
    A second later, Templeton was airborne, squirming as she flew him over.
    Melissa looked at the hybrid and smiled. "Hey, bat guy. Think you can lift me over there?"
    "I'm not completely healed yet."
    She shrugged. "It won't be far to fall. C'mon! It'll be fun!"
    All right, Nightshade, the hybrid thought to himself. That Cordero critter says he gave you a gift of healing. You can at least try it out before you dismiss it. He removed his gauntlets, handing them to Bongo.
    The ape stared at them for a second, then shrugged and put them in the chest.
    Nightshade pressed his left hand on the shoulder of his right wing and concentrated. My wings are strong. I will fly. I... will... fly.
    Crunch! Pieces of chert exploded all around him. He looked down and saw tall dandelions and broad leaf plantains had burst from the rocks in thick clumps.
    "What are you doing?" said Melissa.
    "I'm trying to use my healing power." He concentrated again, closing his eyes.
    Hollow rumbling sounds. He opened them again. More weeds. Confused, he tried concentrating again.
    One of the plantains burst into a flowering thistle plant.
    "Seriously. What are you doing?"
    "I..." He stared at her. "That...sheep. He said he'd give me a healing power."
    Melissa furrowed her brow. "More like a green thumb!"
    His mouth fell open. "Gardening!" He smacked his forehead.
    "So...should we try a fly over, or do you want to stay here and do Troy Beakham impressions?"
    Nightshade frowned. "Who's Troy Beakham?"
    The mink shrugged. "That guy on TV that does all those gardening shows."
    He screwed up his face. "Never mind. I think my wings have rested enough. Let's go." He grabbed Melissa around the waist, tensed his legs, and launched himself straight up into the air above the rocky shore, opening his wings when he hit the peak of his jump.
    He winged his way over the water, gliding over a submerged trench and a large rounded rock.
    His left wing spasmed.
    Splash! They both dropped into a three foot channel.
    Melissa laughed, splashing water on the hybrid. She stretched out in the water, giving her arms lazy waves.
    She grimaced, sitting up, staring in disgust at a dark goop oozing over her white paws. She frowned. "Gross! Is this oil?"
    She quickly stood up, wading to the shore.
    Nightshade followed her out, pushing through a field of goldenrod and goosegrass. Bongo followed close behind him. He rejoined the group. They crossed through a thick field of it, and foxtails and couch grass, crossed a ditch, ending up in an open grassy field.
    As they crossed a ridge, Nightshade heard the Lumpy Gravy song playing.
    Melissa stopped. Looking excited, she whipped out the phone and pressed talk.
    Everyone stopped walking and stared at her.
    Nightshade's sensitive ears could hear the voice on the other end saying "Melissa? Melissa?"
    Melissa nodded with breathless anticipation. "Speaking?"
    "Hi. This is Pengo with PRIMO Fitness. This call may be recorded. Ms. Mink, do you still live at 909 Defkin Street?"
    She nodded. "Well, I'm stuck in a parallel universe or something right now, so I don't know when I'll get back there, but that's where I was living. Before all this weird stuff started happening to me. Why?"
    "Well, Ms. Mink, this call is in regards to your PRIMO Membership. There currently is an amount due on the membership of two hundred and twenty three pogs, which includes the upcoming payment of thirty four pogs for the current month. If you pay this amount today with a credit card, you can make your account current and avoid full collection efforts."
    Melissa stared at the phone. "I lost my credit card while I was traveling."
    Dreamcloud gave her a strange look. He glanced at Starflower, who shrugged.
    "Okay," said Melissa. "How about a check by phone?"
    She frowned. "Sir? How is it that you can even call me?"
    "It's an automated system, maam. The computer dials whatever home number is in the system and it picks up."
    "Yes, but I'm in the middle of nowhere. I'm in some parallel universe where there isn't even any electricity! How can you call me when I can't even dial out?"
    "I don't know. Maybe you fixed it?"
    Nightshade heard Starflower quietly asking the frog what Melissa was doing. The frog whispered that the mink was insane and talking to herself.
    Melissa furrowed her brow, fixing her eyes on the sky. "I tried dialing out the last time you called. It didn't work."
    "Well, I don't know what to tell you...Do you have a check book, Ms. Mink?"
    Melissa glared at the phone. "No. It got lost too."
    "How about a postdated check? We can schedule a postdated payment!"
    "Are you even listening? I have no check book! I'm in a parallel universe!"
    "Parallel universe or not, you signed a three year fitness contract, and unless we get a payment soon, we may resort to full collection efforts."
    The mink sighed. "Look. Bingo. Whatever your name is. I'll pay anything you want if you can just get me out of here right now."
    "Out of...a parallel universe?"
    "Yes! Out of a medieval fantasy world."
    Long pause. "Can I put you on hold while I check on some information?"
    Sigh. "Yes! Please do!"
    A recorded female voice came on the phone. "PRIMO fitness offers the latest programs, including pilates, Tekwandry and jazzercize. Get new. Get fit. Get PRIMO." Melissa impatiently batted her tail back and forth as she listened to the endlessly repeating commercial and the repetitive five note theme song. "Please stay on the line," the voice intoned. "An agent will be with you shortly."
    The phone flickered, blinked on and off, then went dark.
    "No!" She sighed, closing the phone. "Great. And no way to recharge it."
    "You could wrap a copper coil around a magnet," Templeton suggested.
    "And what will that accomplish?"
    "Uh, generate electrical current?"
    "Well, get the copper and magnet, and I'll get a plug, an adaptor, and a three pronged wall socket."
    The rat sighed. "Never mind."
    She shook her head. "Where are we supposed to be going now?"
    "Follow me." Amo led the group to a wide clearing filled with dried out foxtails. The golden brown plants waved in the gentle breeze like a ripening wheat harvest, tall and picturesque, extending for yards in every direction.
    To the left, Nightshade could see a wooded place going up a slope where the weeds weren't as tall. To his right, some distance ahead in that direction, he could see an old crumbling barn framed by a rotting log fence. Past that he could see another wooded area. Straight ahead of him, he could see a small one story cottage and a dilapidated two story structure, and more weeds.
    Amo stopped to read the board a minute, then marched forward. Nightshade followed, staring at the buildings.
    They crossed out further into the field, passing a rusted old plow and a trough full of stagnant water, and over a dirt mound. The sun lowered in the sky, turning red.
    Nightshade heard something rustling. His ears perked up. He looked in the weeds and saw several dark objects rolling toward him on the ground. The objects were round, about the size of baseballs, with tiny legs attached to their bodies.
    Without warning, several of them leapt into the air.
    Bongo let out an angry roar. They had latched onto him, digging their heads into his body.
    He dropped the chest, ripping the things out of his skin.
    He crushed them like grapes in his fist, splattering their guts everywhere.
    Templeton let out a startled cry as one latched onto him, ripping a hole in his protective leather outfit.
    The ape grabbed the creature and crushed it.
    More were coming. They formed a circle around Nightshade's friends like a dark fog in the weeds.
    "What are those things?"
    "Ticks," said Templeton. "Giant ticks."
    "They're called Zaidnipes," said Dreamcloud. "They feed on Kahodi."
    All of a sudden, the creatures shot into the air, blotting out the light with their number.
    Nightshade looked up at them with disgust, clenching his fists.
    Well, now that I know what it does, let's see if I can find out what it's for. Kneeling to the ground, Nightshade imagined power gathering in his body, moving outward through the earth to form a circle of energy around his allies. When that didn't work, he drove his fingers into the dirt, concentrating all thought on growth.
    He felt a paw on his shoulder. "Cordero," said a female voice.
    The ground rumbled. A circle of furrowed soil formed around himself and his group of friends, erupting in tall vines and various kinds of weeds.
    A group of the tick creatures fell inside the circle. Nightshade heard Templeton let out a shout, then Amo screaming. She screamed and cried and wouldn't stop.
    "Stop moving!" Melissa shouted. "I'm trying to get it off!"
    Nightshade heard a dull thud and a grunt.
    He heard Templeton yelling, then a sick crunching, slurping sound.
    He didn't look. He forced himself to focus on the plants. The vines grew taller, taller than his kneeling figure.
    "Gross! How can you eat that!"
    "I had to kill it somehow," said Dreamcloud. Slurp, crunch. "They'd be better cooked."
    "Yeesh! Let's hope you don't get full!"
    "Perhaps I should save the rest of this one for later."
    Nightshade heard rhythmic pattering sounds.
    "Stop talking! Get it off me! Get it off me!"
    "Ungh! Die!" Starflower yelled. Crunch!
    "Kill it! It won't come off! Help!"
    The hybrid shook his head, glaring at the dirt. The vines stretched higher, curving over everyone's heads.
    A draining sensation washed over him, like a giant invisible leech had just latched onto him and decided to start sucking energy out of his arms and legs. Being sick and under attack didn't help matters.
    Bongo let out an angry roar. It sounded like he'd just pounded the dirt.
    "Hah! Take that!"
    "Help!"
    More light pattering sounds.
    "I'm trying!" Templeton shouted. "It's too quick!"
    Munch! Slurp! "There. Now stay still. I'm going to pull the head out." Slurp. Crunch, crunch.
    "I'm gonna toss my cookies."
    Crack! "That will teach you!" Amo gasped.
    Thud! "Damn. Why did I pick a broadsword!" Whack! "That was way too much work."
    More Zaidnipes tumbled in.
    Templeton screamed.
    "Hey!" Melissa shouted.
    Bongo grunted.
    Something fell on Nightshade's back. He felt a sharp stab of pain. He winced, trying to ignore it. He forced himself to focus on the plants. Grow. Grow.
    He heard a grunting sound, then a wet squish. The stabbing sensation stopped.
    The vines grew taller, leaving only a bowling ball shaped hole exposed. A second and third row of weeds and ropey vines burst out beyond the all of vegetation, twisting and twining through the gaps.
    More of the bugs fell through. Others landed on the weeds, snapping and shoving their way through the barrier. Nightshade heard scuffling.
    "Ow! Dammit!" Melissa shouted.
    The hybrid felt something land on his back. He flexed his wing and it flew off.
    Starflower let out an agonized shriek, then went silent. Thud.
    "Starflower!" the frog cried. "No!"
    Crunch. Crack.
    Nightshade glaced over his shoulder and saw Dreamcloud kneeling over an unconscious gray body, surrounded by the giant tick creatures. Deciding it was his only shot for survival, he kept focusing on the plants.
    "Die!" Melissa shouted. Whud! "Dammit! I had him!"
    Pattter pat pat pat pat. The sound of more ticks falling in.
    Nightshade growled and bared his teeth as he focused on the plants.
    The scuffling continued.
    Bam! "Yes!" Templeton cried. "I got it!" Baf! "Hey! You're supposed to be dead!"
    Munch! "I tire of eating these things."
    "That's tough, frog boy. You're the best bug killer we've got."
    "Leave him alone!" The rat shouted.
    Scuffling.
    "Help! Someone! Get that thing!"
    Starflower screamed.
    The frog let out a horrible noise, a sort of war cry combined with a ghastly croaking sound. Crunch.
    "What is it with these fragging things!" Smack! "That's for preying on the weak!"
    Nightshade heard more of the creatures landing inside the circle. Amo let out a frustrated shout.
    "Haaah!" Templeton yelled. "Take that!" Pow!
    Bongo let out an angry growl.
    Munch!
    Soft thudding sounds.
    "No! Not more!"
    "Let's bring out the army!" Templeton shouted.
    "What? What army?"
    "Unless your army is as tall as I am, I suggest you be your own army."
    Nightshade heard a creaking noise and a thud. He kept focus on the plants. He was feeling cold, like winter had suddenly set in. He shivered, refusing to give in to the sensation.
    "Army! Go!" the rat called.
    Nothing.
    "Hey! Army! Hello! I need you to come and help us! Army! Hey!"
    Nothing.
    "Army! I command you to show yourself and kick some butt!"
    Crack. Crack. Crunch.
    "What is that?"
    "Uh...I think it's an army."
    "Oh puh-leeze."
    Nightshade heard something like fireworks going off. Pop! Crack! Pow! For the next few minutes, all he saw were sparks and flashes, and things exploding.
    After a string of chaotic noises, things calmed down a bit. Everyone stood around gasping and panting for breath.
    The hole in the roof closed up. More weeds grew up around them, growing thicker, weaving into the dome, until it took on the consistency of a rug. When a creature shoved through an opening, Bongo plucked its head like a grape. The decapitated bodies sometimes fell on the ground, scuttling toward one of them, but it was promptly squished.
    Nightshade sneezed, shivering as he kept his eyes on the soil particles.
    "Is he going to live?"
    "I don't know," said Dreamcloud. "He has a warrior's spirit, but he is only a child. Those cursed Zaidnipes..." He let out an anguished scream.
    "You're...sort of an Indian, aren't you?" said Templeton. "Don't you know any special medicine for this?"
    "I have no medicine here. All I have is dirt and useless weeds. And the bodies of worthless, flavorless insects."
    "And he had that armor on, too! You think that would offer some protection!"
    "It's just two pieces of metal. They got into the wing holes. There were just too many of them."
    More of the creatures poked their heads in.
    "There's only one way to deal with ticks," Melissa growled. "Does anyone have a match?"
    "Nope. Sorry," said Templeton. "I don't smoke."
    "How about you, snowy? Got anything we can start a fire with?"
    Silence.
    "Yes. You. Where's that box thing you used to light torches with?"
    "These plants are green," said Dreamcloud. "They will not burn."
    Nightshade drove his paws deeper into the ground. Grow! Grow!
    More vines and weeds shot up, curling into the gaps of the structure. He felt it pulling more strength away from his body, but he forced himself to ignore it. The dome thickened, becoming sort of a porous, spongy barrier. The Zaidnipes had a tougher time wiggling in now, but their heads still managed to get through, muscling the rest of their bodies inward until Bongo or one of the others decapitated it.
    Feeling faint, Nightshade fell over on his side, drained. He threw up. He had tried to hold it in, but he felt really, really sick.
    Melissa knelt next to him. "What's wrong."
    "I...don't know." Feeling like he were going to faint, he curled into a fetal position, shivering.
    "Are you all right?"
    The hybrid didn't answer. His body felt weak and tired, and his muscles didn't want to cooperate. He clawed at the dirt, but he felt as if a giant hand were pushing him into the ground. He didn't want to be seen.
    "This structure will not last long," said Dreamcloud. "We will have to move soon."
    Bongo let out a loud roar.
    "Ow! My ears!" Templeton moaned, holding his paws to his head. "I hate when he does that."
    Melissa shook her head. "There are too many of those things. What are we going to do?"
    After taking a few deep breaths, he rolled over, pushing himself up. No time to rest. Must fight. He stared at the thatched dome he'd made, watching the bug creatures trying to dig their way in. He grabbed one of their heads, ripping it off.
    "We're in a tomb," said Dreamcloud. "I would have rather died running in that field. At least then we'd have a chance for escape. At least then Starflower would have flown from here. Now he is dead. I cannot even perform the ducatifo."
    With an angry roar, Bongo stood up, grabbed a corner of the dome, and pulled with all his might.
    "Bongo! No!" Templeton shouted.
    The weeds went flying up by their roots, scattering clouds of dirt everywhere. The bugs tumbled to the dirt in front of him.
    In one deft motion, he slung the owl chick's body over his shoulder, stomping out into the field.
    "Run!" Dreamcloud shouted. "We're defenseless!"
    "You don't have to tell me twice!" said Templeton. He glanced at Nightshade. "Are you going to be okay?"
    Nightshade nodded. "You heard him. Go."
    The rat dashed out into the open, followed by Dreamcloud.
    Amo ran to the hole. She flapped her wings and was gone.
    Melissa glanced at the hybrid. "You know, I think if we're flying, those things won't-"
    Nightshade tackled her, dragging her out of the hut as quickly as possible.
    As the Zaidnipes came jumping and crawling at him, he spread his wings and shot into the air, forcing himself to ignore the little jolts of wing pain, the stabbing bites of the Zaidnipes that had latched onto his body.
    He flapped his wings, then spread them wide, using them as a parachute to glide his way across the field. The Zaidnipes swarmed beneath him, gathering in a round mass beneath his shadow.
    He saw Amo up ahead, carrying the rat in her arms. She seemed to be flying toward a distant treeline.
    Beneath him, Bongo carried the limp form of the owl chick, roaring as he hurled the attacking bugs across the field. Dreamcloud followed him, looking nauseated as he chomped on whatever insect he found attacking him or his fallen comrade.
    The hybrid drifted lower, gliding over a slight slope and a long stretch of open field. He could only see more golden foxtails below. As his feet drifted close to the tops of their seed pods, he flapped his wings again.
    He yelped. His left wing snapped tight against his body in an involuntary spasm.
    He spun in the air for a brief second, then tumbled to the ground. His shoulder slammed into the dirt, awakening old pain. The Zaidnipes stabbed him with their tiny heads.
    He growled and ripped the bugs off his fur. He found their bodies too tough to crush in his hands. All he could do was remove their heads, a difficult task when they're not stuck in a mesh. Melissa was a fountain of profanity as she removed the things from her own body.
    "We need to keep going," said Nightshade.
    Melissa nodded. "Do we still have air service?"
    "No. Run."
    She gave him a nervous glance, then ran ahead.
    Nightshade pulled off some more bugs, running after her.
    He got winded a few yards down. It felt like his lungs were burning. He broke into a coughing fit. C'mon, Nightshade. You're better than this. This is nothing but a glorified flu virus. He took in several wheezing breaths and took off running.
    Blip! Everything seemed to shift from its register for a second. A glowing figure appeared in front of him, blocking his path.
    Nightshade glared at the wooly muzzle. "Out of the way. Those things are after us, and they want blood. If you have any sense, you'd turn tail and run, too."
    Cordero didn't reply. He stayed put, slowly raising a hoof-like paw.
    All the bugs fell off Nightshade's body, dead. They laid turtle, legs sticking motionless in the air.
    The sheep raised his other paw. He closed both paws into fists.
    Nightshade saw a flash, then a small meteorite came streaking down from the sky. Something thundered behind him. Another white streak came down. It sounded like a bomb going off.
    Soon the field was alive with thunderous noise.
    Nightshade stared at the sheep in awestruck silence as the meteorites rained down, wondering if it were safe to stay where he was, or if some random rock would suddenly slam down on his skull.
    Not wanting to take the chance, he stepped around the sheep's outstretched arms, hurrying after the dark blob he saw running in the field ahead.
    He looked back for a moment. The sheep appeared to be gone, but the meteor shower showed no sign of stopping.
    He kept running, dodging to the side whenever he saw a flash out of the corner of his eye. After about ten yards, he came to a wide green hillside covered in short grass, and beyond, a wooded area where a group of figures knelt around a body.
    "We're still not out of harm's way," said Templeton.
    "I know," the mink gasped. "But I'm tired. We're all tired. At least we can see the damn things now."
    "Ungh umble."
    "Well there wasn't anything we could do for him anyway. I don't know what that frog thinks he'll accomplish with leaves and berries, but those things just took too much out of the poor guy."
    Amo put a wing on the rat's shoulder. "You must have faith in Quaro, morsel."
    "You know, I'm not sure I can do that, but I do have religious beliefs. Not sure how they apply to this particular situation, but..."
    The frog walked out from behind a cluster of trees with his arms full of leafy branches. He sat down next to Starflower's body, looking at the rat. "Get me some dry sticks. We need to start a fire."
    "It looks like you've already got some."
    "This isn't for a fire. I need firewood."
    With a shrug, Templeton got up, wandering into the woods.
    The meteorites kept thundering.
    Dreamcloud tore a clump of leaves off a branch and started chewing.
    "What are you doing?" Melissa asked.
    "Mumph umph umph."
    She rolled her eyes. "I guess you want to get that bad taste out of your mouth, huh?"
    The frog just chewed, removing the protective armor from Starflower's body.
    Melissa stared at Nightshade. He thought she looked confused, as well as a bit disappointed, but she didn't say anything for several minutes. Finally, she said, "The next time we run into those...bugs, let's pass on the whole growing a hut out of the ground thing. It takes too long."
    The hybrid glared at her, not replying.
    Dreamcloud pressed his lips against the owl chick's body, depositing a glob of masticated plant matter into one of the larger wounds. "Athelas," he said. "They are good medicine." He tore off some more leaves, chewing them.
    Melissa rolled her eyes.
    Nightshade saw Templeton waddling back to the site with his arms loaded with sticks. "I didn't know if you wanted the ones off the tree or from the ground, so I got you half and half."
    The frog looked agitated, but was too busy chewing to talk. He made a jabbing motion at a nearby patch of dirt and the rat eagerly obliged, dropping it all on the ground.
    Dreamcloud spat out another glob, coating a second wound. "Rat, did I or did I not explain why we couldn't burn the Shade's hut?"
    "Uh...sort of?"
    "I told you they were wet."
    "I figured it was because they were fresh or something."
    The frog shook his head in frustration.
    "Oh. Right. You can't start a fire with weeds."
    "No, that was not the problem." He turned his bumpy head towards the field. "In fact..." He pointed to the mass of tall foxtail stalks, where a great fire was spreading. "Perhaps we don't need to build one after all." Dreamcloud glanced at Amo, opening his mouth. He closed it again. His yellow eyes moved down to the body. "I fear Starflower is no more."
    "Well," said Melissa. "It looks like that fire might be reaching us soon. We could just leave him here and let nature take its course."
    "That would not honor his memory. It would surely leave something for wild creatures to devour, and his bones would be scattered. The medicine is also not complete. There may be a chance I can still save him." He paused. "I wish to finish the task and perform the rite of Noqinu." He glanced at the hybrid. "Shade, we need this body moved carefully and with haste. Can you and the white one fly him to a place not in danger of fire?"
    "I can try, but don't expect much," Nightshade said. "My wing is thrashed."
    The `white one' shook her head. "My name is Amo, frog!" She knelt down, grabbing Starflower's feet.
    Nightshade grabbed his shoulders.
    "He's too cute to have this happen to him," she said.
    Nightshade rolled his eyes. "Which way are we going?"
    Amo blinked. "Not sure. Just a minute." She set the body down, flapping into the air.
    The hybrid let go of the body. He looked up, watching the bird circling around the trees.
    "Stupid job with its stupid company policies," Melissa grumbled. "I should have never signed those papers." She tore off an athela leaf, chewing on it experimentally. She spat it out. "Gross! It's like old celery and sugar free marshmallows!"
    Dreamcloud chuckled.
    "You're a weirdo."
    "Well there goes our treasure chest," Templeton grumped. "I'm tired of losing stuff."
    Bongo grunted in agreement.
    "The next time I go to the movies, I'm going to watch a comedy. Or maybe a romance. Something I wouldn't mind being sucked into."
    "Or a spy movie," said Melissa. "At least then I'd have handguns, a hot tub, and a shower." She drew her sword out of its sheath, staring at her reflection in the blade. "Of course, I really don't really think this is a movie." She spat on her fingers, smoothing down a spot of hair, then tilted the blade to get a better look. "Hey rat. Have you heard of Asphixia?"
    Templeton looked confused. "When you stop breathing?"
    "So you've heard of it! Right on!"
    The rat twisted his nose. "What?"
    "You know what I'm talking about, right? They're ska punk."
    "Um, not really."
    "You listen to punk music at all? Stygian Ferry? Moribund? Death Propagander?"
    The rat shook his head.
    She looked at Nightshade. "How about you? Tainted Custom?"
    Nightshade shrugged.
    Melissa sighed, setting the sword down. She stared at the dirt, falling silent a minute. She looked up at the black face. "So, Nightshade. What do you normally do when you're not, you know, stuck in the stone age fighting monsters?"
    "This... really isn't anything new to me," the hybrid said. "I fight people in backwoods barrooms for the odd bit of coin, or predators in wild forests for my next meal; it's how I got my name. The places and the faces in this world might be different, but the general idea is still the same as it ever was."
    She stared at him and smirked. "So...is that your hobby? You just...fight all the time?"
    "Well my hobby is crochet. Sewing."
    Nightshade stared at her incredulously.
    "No, no. It's cool. I quilt death's heads and rock stars and stuff on blankets and pillows. It's really punk rock."
    He laughed.
    "All right, all right. You win. Beating up animals is much cooler."
    "That's how I was raised, to fight," Nightshade replied offhandedly. "So really, it's all I know. That and guns. I know a few things about various gun models from our world, for all the good it does me in this one."
    "Oh c'mon. There had to be something you did when you were really, really bored. Like putting together a model or drawing pictures or making chains out of paper clips."
    He made no reply.
    Melissa lowered her ears. "Did you ever shoot happy faces or other stuff into paper targets when you were practicing? Or something else?"
    "Even outside of my training, I never stayed bored for more than a few minutes," the hybrid said. "I had an AR chair in my room, with all the adventure games I could ask for and then some. On the few occaisions when boredom could even show its face, all I had to do was strap in and activate the randomizer, and I'd be well out of its reach before you could say 'Let's go kill something.'"
    Melissa looked like she had just smelled something foul. "Careful. You almost sounded like one of those guys that spend all day playing ELFWAR in their parents' basement." She stuck out her tongue. "That's it. I'm taking you clubbing when we get back."
    "It's a date." Nightshade revealed his fangs in a feral smile. "But since there's little chance of us getting back, I suggest you start planning some way to replicate a club here."
    The mink just laughed and shook her head.
    Nightshade heard a pattering sound, and the snowy owl was grabbing Starflower's feet again. "There is a mine up ahead," she said, securing her grip. "The land is rocky and dry. The fires should not reach us there." She nodded to him. "Ready?"
    He bobbed his head, grabbing the shoulders.
    She lifted the legs and feet, looking at him expectantly.
    He paused for a brief moment, wondering if this were the best method to pick up someone who was injured. He dismissed it. I don't think he can get much worse. He lifted the head and torso, rising to his feet.
    "You'd better turn around," she said.
    He turned around and tried picking the body up by its armpits. Awkward.
    "Maybe you should get up front."
    They set the body down.
    Amo sighed and went around to Starflower's head. She lifted the armpits. Nightshade took the feet. They brought him up to stomach level and stood.
    The snowy spread her wings open. "Now when I count to the number four, we will take to the air."
    Nightshade stretched his wings and readied himself.
    "One."
    He clamped his hands around Starflower's armpits.
    "Two."
    He gave his wings a couple experimental flaps.
    "Three."
    He bounced up on his toes, and did a little jump, thinking it were time to fly already. He stopped himself.
    "Four." Amo shot into the air a few inches.
    Realizing that this was the proper time to take off, he flapped his wings to join her. That's why we say `on three'! he thought as he rose higher. But Amo looked at him like he was an idiot.
    The sky, which had been a deep shade of red just minutes before, was now a deep purple color, the crimson sun slowly sinking into the horizon.
    Nightshade flapped his wings as fast as he could, attempting to keep pace with the snowy, but it turned out to be a difficult climb. Bat wings were suited for gliding, a bird's for rapid movement. Their flight past the boughs of the trees progressed awkardly, like the crawling of an inch worm.
    Left side up, right side up, left side up, right side up.
    They cleared the canopies of the small wood, coming in view of the rocky turf beyond. The dusk obscured most of the details of the area, but it seemed to be dry, dusty, and relatively clear of flammable debris.
    They shifted their flight into a horizontal path, which was awkward due to Amo doing most of the gliding. He found it annoying. He wished he had chosen the other end.
    Halfway past the last tree, a jolt of pain went through Nightshade's wing. He dropped inadvertently, hanging off the body in attempts to keep airborne. Fighting the sensation of burning knife pricks in his back, he flapped his wings with fury.
    The two got past the trees, crossing over a dull gray-beige field, pitted with crater-like depressions.
    They drifted lower, swooping across dusty, cracked soil scattered with rocks, gravel, and odd bits of metal. Nightshade touched down on a flat patch of dirt and gravel scattered with a handful of rusted pickaxes with broken handles. Once the body was set down, the burning sensation exploded up his wing muscles. He growled, clenching his teeth, waiting for the sensation to pass. As a reflex, his wings snapped shut and refused to open.
    Amo glanced at him with an expression of worry, but didn't comment. She shook her wings and said, "You watch Starflower. I'll go tell the others where we are." She took off.
    Nightshade scouted the area, looking for predators, enemies, and useful items. Mostly what he found were busted up mine carts and bits of metal. He walked past a massive shelf of rock, coming to the entrance of a mine, a wooden archway with a thick wooden board at the top supporting the roof.
    He pressed a fist against one of the support beams, wound back, and slammed his fist into it. A sprinkle of dust rained down on his head. "Oops."
    Looks like a good way to cause a cave-in. I'd better stop. There might be something useful down there.
    He went to a spot near Starflower, shifting into a fighting stance. He shuffled forward, striking an imaginary opponent. He slashed. Parry. Thrust. Kick. Uppercut. He spent several minutes practicing.
    The sun sunk beyond the horizon and it became dark. A thumbnail of a moon appeared in the relatively unclouded sky, framed by a lopsided triangle of bright stars. He spotted something remotely resembling the Draco constellation, but the shape was all wrong. The Big Dipper also looked more like an ellipse with a handle, and Orion didn't look right, either.
    He heard shuffling sounds. With a sonar search, he identified his friends. He noticed a faint glowing among them.
    "This way," Amo's voice was saying.
    "Why can't we have a torch like normal cavemen?" Melissa complained.
    "Look what we have to work with."
    "I can't see my hand in front of my face. How can I look at anything?"
    "Over here."
    "This ember is the best we can do. We had nothing to soak strips of cloth in. The dry weeds burn up in less than a second. We were fortunate to even find a gourd to pour this boiling gebigore into. With the wood this ape is presumably carrying, we should be able to make a fire."
    "No no! This way! This way!"
    "Oh. Right."
    "I never would have thought to use a breastplate as a saucepan. You're like, MacDiver or something."
    "How does that stuff cook without burning anyway? I didn't see you add any water...or enough spit."
    "Athelas are children of the cloud spirits. They hatch by heat and by fire, to arise into the sky, leaving behind good medicine."
    "Um, yeah. I was thinking there's probably some chemicals in those leaves that react to heat and pressure or something, and they somehow combine to form a liquid."
    "We're almost there."
    Nightshade heard the group stomping up to him, then the air disturbance of them breathing and occupying nearby space.
    Nightshade heard a pile of sticks dropping.
    "White...`Amo.' Can you pour this into Starflower's wounds? I do not see well in the dark."
    Something made sloshing sounds. The noise faded away.
    The hybrid looked down and saw the ember, now not much more than a pinpoint, touching into an area in the darkness.
    He heard a low blowing sound, then a tiny ball of fire erupted. The wind blew and it seemed to vanish. More puffing, accompanied by scuffing sounds.
    The tiny fire appeared again, then expanded. It soon spread enough for him to see a small fraction of his surroundings.
    He saw Dreamcloud setting the broken wooden handles around the fire in a ring, one end open for keeping the air flowing. A fair amount of wood had been piled nearby, and the frog was breaking sticks and stacking them into a tipi formation over the flame. Amo was kneeling over Starflower, pouring a dark liquid on his injuries with a bulbous green-yellow gourd the size of a melon.
    "Great. Now I'm itching!" said Melissa. "This sucks."
    "No kidding," said Templeton. "It's bad enough getting bitten by giant monster bugs in the first place."
    Nightshade heard scratching sounds.
    "I would not scratch those bites. If the bite of a Zaidnipe becomes irritated enough, it can grow around your centers and choke the life out of you." The frog blew into the fire.
    "Your centers?"
    "Yes. Like the center of inhalation and exhalation. Or the center of your blood."
    "Oh," said Templeton. "It's like the four humours theory, I suppose."
    "I have not heard of such things, but have I explained it properly?"
    "Pretty much. We itch and we swell up and die. It's like a brown recluse or something. Or maybe hen pox."
    Things became silent.
    "W-Amo. How are things progressing?"
    "Most of the wounds are covered. I should be done shortly." A minute later, she said, "There. Done."
    "Good. Are there any leaves left in that gourd?"
    "I don't know. Let me check." Nightshade saw her standing in the dark, peering into the lumpy rounded object. "Yes. I think I see one in there."
    "Good. Take it out and examine it closely. I need you to go into the woods and bring back more. You will all need to cover your bites."
    "Right." Amo marched out into the field.
    "And bring back more firewood."
    She sighed. "Fine, fine. It's just like home." She took off.
    Dreamcloud selected a patch of ground, removed his armor, and laid down.
    Melissa poked the scabbard of her sword in the dirt. "I'm hungry. Is there anything to eat around here?"
    "Possibly some mushrooms," the frog said with a yawn. "I think there are some stumps and rocks with grubs beneath them as well. or some rolling crawlers if you are in the mood for something crunchier. If you're wanting mushrooms, I suggest you wait until dawn. I doubt any one of you can tell the difference between a poisonous mushroom and one that is edible."
    "What about nuts and berries?"
    "The berries in that wood are all poisonous. I do not recall seeing any nuts, either, for that matter."
    "Insert joke here," said Templeton.
    Melissa sighed. "No food for us tonight, I guess."
    "I suppose we'll go to bed without supper."
    Bongo made noises of resignation.
    "No big loss. I don't feel like eating worms and bugs." She removed her chain mail and laid on the ground, shifting with discomfort. "Speaking of beds, this one sucks."
    The frog rolled on his side, casually adding wood to the fire.
    Feeling unusually cold, Nightshade sat down next to the fire. In the dim glow, he noticed something wrong about his arms. Bald patches had spread around them in cow patterns, revealing segments of slimy mottled green-brown scales. He shivered. Maybe Cordero was right, he thought to himself, staring at the scales. Maybe I am sick.
    Bongo stretched out on the ground, lying on his back.
    Templeton came over to him and laid down, putting his head on the big hairy chest. He stared up at the sky, not saying anything for a few minutes. Then he crossed his arms. "I don't recognize a single one of these. Where's the Great Cheese Wedge? Or the Seven Fingered Claw?"
    Bongo grunted.
    "Of course there aren't any airplanes. Think about what time you're in." He fell silent.
    "Why are all these pickaxes sitting here?"
    "They were stealing the heart of the planet," Dreamcloud said in bitter tones.
    "I'm not sure I follow."
    "Someone was taking the precious things from the depths of the great womb."
    "Did it involve gold?"
    "I do not know. The great womb contains many things. Salt, copper, iron, silver."
    "So they were taking your vitamins?"
    Templeton chuckled.
    "It is no laughing matter. Cequo deserves respect. She must be thanked when things are taken from her depths."
    The rat shook his head.
    "Whatever," said Melissa.
    Nightshade heard pattering. The snowy owl landed with her arms full of sticks and athela branches. She dropped them by the fire. "I saw some morels, if anyone's interested."
    "Like don't get caught?"
    "More-els," said Templeton. "They're mushrooms."
    "I'll take `em," said Melissa.
    "Me too."
    Bongo voiced his approval.
    Nightshade didn't feel like eating. Feeling shaky, he sat down.
    Dreamcloud got up, examining the athelas. "Good. She got the right ones." He grabbed a rusty pickaxe portion. After stuffing the gourd full of leaves, he chipped away at the hard dirt until he had a small hole near the fire. He scraped some embers in, then dropped the gourd on top of them. He used the pickaxe as a poker to dump the burning cinders on top of the gourd, creating a sort of crude simmer pot.
    "Buy!" Melissa sang to herself. "Buy my new record! Buy!" She let out an irritated growl. "Must...not...itch!"
    "You just had to say something!" Templeton moaned.
    Nightshade was a bit annoyed himself. The spots where he'd been bitten had become irritated with a persistent nagging itch. He winced.
    "What about you, frog?" the mink said with an annoyed tone. "Didn't your tongue or something get itchy from eating those things?"
    "They do not bother me. It is like eating spicy food."
    "You'd think it would be more like puffer fish."
    "I'm sorry?"
    Nightshade clenched his fists, trying not to scratch. He sneezed.
    "Puffer fish. The seafood that can kill you if it's not prepared right."
    "I'm a Tiricimi. The lokupe pouch doesn't affect me."
    Melissa broke into a coughing fit.
    "I'm being completely serious."
    She shook her head, coughing some more.
    A small column of steam rose out of the gourd.
    "Ah. It's done." Dreamcloud picked the gourd up by its neck, brushing off the coals and ash like they weren't hot. He grabbed some dirt, wiping off the outer shell. "Who's first."
    "For?" said Melissa.
    "To coat your bites with this."
    She reached out for it. "Gimme!"
    "Here." Dreamcloud handed it to her. "Be sparing with it. Once it empties, we'll be forced to find another one. I can already see it starting to leak."
    Melissa tilted the gourd against a wound on her shoulder. She let out a grunt of pain, then sucked in her breath through her teeth as she rubbed the liquid into her hide. She dabbed it on her other wounds, rubbing it in.
    "Is there any left?" Templeton asked.
    "I'd say more than three quarters." She handed it to him.
    The rat pressed it against his side. A second later, he let out a shrilly squeal. "Hot!" He hollered. "Hot hot hot!"
    "Yeahh!" Melissa said with a note of sarcasm.
    Templeton hopped from foot to foot, muttering, "I'm cool, I'm cool." He planted his feet down once more, applying the gourd to another bite. He squealed. After that, the liquid seemed to have cooled or he'd gotten a tolerance for it, as he could treat the other bites with only a bit of teeth clenching to show discomfort. He finished treating himself and handed it to Bongo.
    The ape emptied it on himself.
    "Bongo!"
    With a shrug, the ape threw the gourd away.
    "Great. That's real nice, Bongo."
    "Ungh oop eeble urk unhm."
    "Yeah. Likely story."
    Bongo growled and sat down.
    Melissa looked at Nightshade and shrugged.
    The hybrid sighed, forcing himself to ignore the itching. He'd already scratched a bit, but wanted to prevent further damage. He clenched his fists, sneezing and coughing.
    His ears perked up when he heard pattering. A minute later, the snowy stood near the fire holding a pile of morels and a smattering of assorted gray things in her arms. "It seems I have picked the forest clean. I saw some other ones that looked edible, but I was unsure about their color. I didn't want to feed you poison."
    "Cool," said Melissa. "Let's eat."
    "Do you want them cooked or raw?"
    "Cooked."
    "Definitely cooked," Nightshade said.
    "Battered and breaded," Templeton grinned.
    Amo stared at him.
    "Just kidding."
    The snowy grabbed a stick and impaled a morel, roasting it over the fire like a marshmallow.
    "We need another gourd and more firewood," Dreamcloud said to her.
    "And I'm cooking."
    "Let someone else cook. No one else can see in the dark like you."
    "Yes, father," she grumbled. She put down the mushrooms and handed the cooking stick to Templeton, who resumed cooking. She gave the frog a dirty look and flew off.
    The rat turned the mushroom over. "You know what would be nice right now?"
    "A hot tub," said Melissa. "And a change of clothes."
    "True, but I was actually going to say ` a harmonica.'"
    "Boy howdy," Melissa joked.
    Templeton handed her a blackened mushroom.
    She took it with a look of disdain. "Yummy! It's a source of protein and carcinoma!" She took a bite. "Oh well. Food's food."
    The rat roasted some more and distributed it. He and the ape said their prayers and ate.
    Amo flapped back with wood and a gourd, and soon she and the others had all eaten enough to keep going, though not enough to get full. The athelas were boiled, everyone's bites were treated, and the group settled in to sleeping spots.
    Nightshade settled close to the fire due to his constant chills. He rested on his stomach with his head turned sideways. He shut his eyes for a minute, but opened them when he heard a soft scuffing sound.
    Melissa had moved in a few feet across from him, lying on her side with her head propped up with her elbow and forearm. She had an expression on her face that seemed to say `I'm mad at you, but for some reason I still like you and I'm trying to figure out why.'
    He closed his eyes again.
    ****
    It was early morning. The otter awoke from a nightmare about the turbulent sea, flailing around in his hammock.
    The nets spun and he tumbled onto the floor.
    He brushed himself off and stood up.
    There was a knock on the door. He opened it and saw Cephas.
    "We're going to have breakfast if you want any."
    "You don't have to tell me twice!"
    Cephas laughed and led him to the dining hall.
    They walked in the structure and took seats near the door.
    Hadrian sat down next to them. When the rest of the Roost crowd was there, he led everyone in a rousing soung.
    When the tune ended, the otter noticed a group of strangers standing in the doorway. He recognized them from the night before.
    Go led them in, introducing them as Starflower, Dreamcloud, Templeton and Nightshade. They were given a warm round of applause, then were seated at the opposite end of the otter's table.
    Cordero led them all in prayer and the meal was distributed.
    River noticed it was the same thing he'd eaten the night before.
    "So," said Hadrian. "What are your plans for today?"
    "Exactly the same as they were last night," the otter said. "I'm going to search my ship, rescue the other survivors, and see if I can't learn a little more about myself in the process."
    "Ah, yes. The shipwreck. I will help you in any way I can."
    "We're not very good night owls," Hadrian said, sitting down next to him. "We'll be up all day."
    River started eating.
    Bang! He looked over and saw the frog shouting and looking upset. It turned and stomped out of the room.
    "Now what was that about?" said Cephas.
    "Dunno."
    "Whatever it is," the otter said. "There's nothing we can do about it. Don't think it doesn't tear me up inside to admit this, but until we know the person having the problem, he won't trust us to try to fix it."
    Hadrian nodded.
    River finished eating, watching as the blacked winged creature stepped out of the room. He pushed his plate aside.
    "So," said the owl. "I guess you want to go look for your crew now, right?"
    "Yes, I do," the otter said,standing up. "And quickly. The longer I sit around here, the more likely it is that someone who needs help won't get it in time."
    Hadrian nodded. "Right. Let's go, then."
    They got up and went out.
    The two walked across the bridge beyond in silence. A weak wind blew through their fur. The ropes swayed gently in the breeze.
    They crossed the central platform, coming to the pulley elevator. The cage had been lowered.
    Hadrian stared at it. "I guess I could fly you down, but you might be kind of heavy and I don't know if you'd like dropping so fast."
    "Either way would suit me fine," said the otter.
    Hadrian leaned into the shaft, wheeling the counterweights down until the cage came back up.
    They got in and wheeled down below.
    The cage dropped a few yards, passed another platform, then descended into the foliage below.
    The frog and owl chick sat on a log in a clearing. The chick clutched the green one, face buried in his chest, while the other crooned something in a foreign language, caressing his fuzzy head.
    Hadrian glanced at them, then looked away. "So, River. Where do you want to start looking?" He pointed to his left. "Over there is the Raliqua. That's where we found you." He paused. "Of course, it empties into the Kifihua ocean, which is quit a long distance from here...Do you remember anything...about the general whereabouts of your...ship before it...capsized or whatever? Anything at all? I mean, how'd you wash up on a sandbar? Were you trolling down the river? Or did you just sorta drift in from the Audaqi?"
    "Hang on a minute," the otter said, processing the question in his head. With some difficulty, he called up the memory of the storm.
    A powerful wind was pushing the ship through the water, shoving it this way and that as heavy waves crashed all around. The otter was up in the crow's nest, seeking land as best he could through the driving rain. A stray bolt of lightning hit the ocean surface, and a lagoon was briefly revealed before everything faded back into darkness.
    `Come about to starboard!' the otter heard himself shouting. `Harbor ahoy!'
    The ship turned. The wind stabilized in the same direction, as though it had chosen to help.
    The prow dipped and the ship entered the lagoon.
    Bang! Crunch! The hull collided with something beneath the surface.
    The ship lurched forward. The crow's nest snapped back like a slingshot, throwing the otter screaming through the air.
    He felt a sharp slap at the water hit him, then nothing.
    The memory faded.
    "I was up in the crow's nest, scouting for somewhere that we could land and wait out the tempest that had hit us," River said. "I could hardly see a thing. I directed the helmsman toward a spot I'd seen in a lightning flash. We caught hold of a kind wind. It turned the same way we did and kept us steady `til we got there. When the ship entered the harbor, the keel hit something and I got thrown from the crow's nest." He frowned. "If my ship can still be found at all, it'll probably still be there, caught between the sea and the shore on whatever it was that we hit on our way in."
    "So...in between the Audaqi and the Raliqua. Right." He pointed to the clearing. "Let's go this way."
    The owl marched ahead through the brush, passing by the two creatures on the log.
    River followed him, going on and down a slanting dirt trail.
    He heard a low rumbling sound. He looked left through a cluster of fat trees and saw a wagon led by a giant lapine creature.
    The wagon rolled closer and he could see the driver, a white female mink dressed in a tunic and leggings.
    She came closer. River stepped out of the way.
    The mink leaned over the side of her seat, waving at him. River stared at her facial piercings, wondering if she were a pirate.
    "Hi!" She smiled.
    "Ahoy!"
    She laughed. "Have you seen a black winged creature around here?"
    River stared at her, blinking. "A...black...creature?"
    The mink absently rolled her gold tongue post between her teeth, then said, "You know...the one with cute pointy ears, shapely muscles, and a lovely looking black coat?"
    River chuckled. "Can't say that I have. But I do think I saw some owls bring in a pitiful looking, half beaten bat thing yesterday.
    The mink gasped. "Is he all right?"
    "It seems so."
    "I must see him."
    Hadrian pointed back at the Roost. "Go that way and blow the horn hanging on the tree marked with the red rune."
    She nodded. "Thank you." She rolled the wagon onwards.
    "Wonder what that's about?"
    Hadrian shrugged. "C'mon." He led River onwards.
    They crossed a ridge and the trail ended. Beyond was a wooded area on a hill overlooking a river.
    Hadrian flapped his wings, fluttering over to a large rock.
    River tried to follow him, but the soil became crumbly. He stepped forward and the dirt gave way, making him slide a foot.
    He caught hold of a scraggly plant and his descent slowed.
    He grabbed at a nearby vine, but it was dry and snapped off.
    He grabbed another. "Ow!" Thorns.
    He scrambled across the dirtslide, latching onto a pathetic looking baby tree.
    Hadrian chuckled.
    River growled and climbed his way to the rock.
    As soon as he had reached it, the owl flew down the hill.
    "Aargh!" the otter cried, sliding after him.
    He shuffled down a steep hill, coming to a riverbank.
    The ground was a deep and muddy mire. The otter's feet sunk in until clay was up to his ankles.
    Sploom. A rock the size of a large television thundered into the water a yard downstream.
    Thoosh. A second one followed it.
    River looked up and saw the gorilla standing on a nearby hill, pulling rocks out of the soil.
    The otter looked right and saw a muddy shore extending for twelve feet. A piece of a chain lay half sunken into the ground. The hilt of a rapier was stuck in the mud next to it. To the left, the shore turned to sand and he could see a pointy, glittering object poking out of a puddle, and a glass necklace. A wooden keg lay flat against the side of the nearby hill.
    The owl flapped down and perched on a nearby log. "Oh! I didn't see all this stuff here yesterday! It must have washed up during the night."
    River removed his tunic and tossed it onto the sand.
    "Can you pile up what you find here?" he asked the owl. "I'll see if there's anything to salvage below the surface."
    Hadrian nodded. "I'll give it a try. But this barrel looks heavy." He flapped over to the gorilla, muttering something to it.
    Wading quickly into the water, the otter inhaled when the waves slapped his elbows, diving in headfirst.
    He opened his eyes, looking around the riverbed. The water was muddy, making it difficult for him to see much of anything. He drifted downwards, fighting the current. The dark shapes of large fish wiggled around him, making visibility even more of a problem. He fought them out of the way and swam.
    Along the sea floor, amidst the rocks, he could see an ink pot, a necklace, and a powder keg. Further on, he found the body of a lion cub, dressed in a striped outfit and knickers, with a brass collar around its neck. An anchor pinned part of its body to the bottom. The otter pulled the small body out of the water, onto the muddy shore.
    After examining it closely, he deduced that it was dead. He dragged it further inland and returned to the water.
    He found a severed humanoid rodent head. It caused him enough shock to force him to surface for air. He dove again.
    He found a pair of necklaces and a spyglass. Nearby, the remains of a map were caught on a chunk of jagged limestone. When River got a close look, he found the shredded fragments unreadable, the ink washed away with the current.
    A couple fish nipped at him. The effect was ticklish rather than painful.
    The tide caused him to bump his head on a cannon. He pushed off, rubbing his head. Beyond that heavy piece of equipment lay a row of oaken barrels and a chest. River guessed them to be either filled with water or something weighty, since they hadn't washed up on the shore. The boat wheel was buried in the mud along the channel. Here and there were bits of timber. Hull fragments. It accounted for some of the wreck, but not all of it.
    He suddenly felt warmth spreading around his body. The substance rushed about him with such rapidity that he didn't have time to react. All around him he saw a nasty green-black ooze. The ooze stuck to his fur like oil. The sensation was extremely unpleasant. He flailed his arms, mentally cursing the muddy water and its limited visibility.
    He surfaced. He gave the water a quick scan, but didn't see any squid or octupii nearby. Not wanting to soak in it more than he had to, he swam to the beach, staring at his pelt. The viscous substance was slimy, but didn't appear to be harmful. It rolled off his coat like oil.
    He squished across the muddy bank, trying to ascertain where the liquid was coming from, but was difficult to see into the murky flow. There seemed to be no way to figure out the source of the ooze without swimming in it.
    "It's been sort of dirty," said Hadrian.
    River looked up and saw the owl perched on a tree root, trying to keep his claws dry.
    "I don't know what that stuff is, but it doesn't seem to be dangerous. Animals have swum in it before, so I think it's clear of sea monsters, if that's what you're worried about." He brushed some molting off his feathers. "Nateela's been boiling our drinking supply."
    Unable to find a way around the black cloud from above, he swam down to the sea bed to see what he could see from below.
    A gold statue was half submerged in the muck. It glittered enticingly, but the otter left it alone for the moment. He swam on. Metal cups. Slave shackles. A glittering silver cup. Someone's treasure chest had apparently broken open. Flints. Clothing.
    He came upon a broken chunk of mast. A child sized rabbit head poked out from beneath it. He swam closer and saw that the body had been crushed to death. A sextant was clutched in its tiny paw.
    He swam on. Timbers. A rapier. A broken barrel of nails.
    He saw a humanoid English bulldog trapped under heavy timbers. Bubbles trickled out its nostrils, but it was unconscious. River grabbed at the planks, but they were thick, a few pounds too heavy for him to move.
    River searched the mud and rocks below. He discovered a long piece of iron hull bracing. Thinking quickly, he jammed it into the mud next to the trapped victim, using it to lever the plank loose.
    The bulldog drifted free.
    River grabbed the creature, dragging him to shore.
    He checked the dog's neck and the sides of its stomach. He didn't know what he was looking for, but it wasn't there. He laid him on the beach and began practicing the arcane art of assisted breathing with chest compressions and mouth to mouth technique.
    The bulldog spat water and gasped, growling epithets. It coughed, staring at the otter.
    "It's just like you self important types to save the life of one who doesn't want to be saved. Just when I thought I'd have the opportunity to travel to greener fields and abandon this veil of tears, you come along and perform some kind of Hoodoo that forces me to breathe again. Why can't you dive under and rescue someone that needs rescuing?"
    "I had thought that's what I was doing," River said quietly.
    Without another word, he jumped back into the water.
    He dove below the black cloud, scanning the bottom.
    A broken sextant. A book with a green cover.
    He found the body of a large cat, dressed in a white tunic, a green vest, and genie pants.
    He dragged the body up to the shore, examining it carefully. Dead.
    The gorilla approached the shore. It looked at River, touching his chest. It offered its hand. "Ungh?"
    Not understanding, he shook his head, diving back below.
    Ceramic bowls. A gold necklace. Cooking tongs. A skull.
    He turned his head and nearly choked. The gorilla had his face in the water, making monkeyshines at him.
    River shrugged and went back to searching.
    A broken barrel containing several pounds of ruined gunpowder. A pipe. A pair of silver rings.
    He came to an overturned, heavy looking wooden cabinet. He could see bubbles coming out of it, but the doors were on the underside.
    Figuring the bubbles to be nothing, he swam on.
    A broken plate. An oaken chest with a lock. A flint. An ink pot. A gold statue of a kiwi. An eating utensil.
    A colorful red-green humanoid parrot drifted near the side of the river, chained to an anchor, its legs and feet clapped in iron manacles. Bubbles trickled out its nostrils, but it was unconscious.
    With a considerable amount of effort, River dragged the body out of the water, flopping it down on the mud.
    "He's probably dead already," the bulldog commented. "You're wasting your time."
    Ignoring him, the otter checked the creature's airways, then proceeded with assisted breathing.
    The bird spat up water and coughed. It blinked at River, sat up, and smiled. "Ah. See? That's what I love about working on a merchant ship. We work as a team and we look out for each other. When something goes wrong, like the ship running aground, we don't abandon our mates, we stick together and make sure everyone gets out alive! That's why our outfit can compete with the South Seas Company. We always do what's best for the crew."
    River had a brief mental flash involving a captain slapping a metal band around the parrot's beak to shut it up. He couldn't remember anything other than that little bit, but it was enough to make him wish he had such a device.
    "You know what? The Kahodi travel in packs, and large amounts of them guard the underground burrows where their young are often hidden. This protects them from a great deal of predators. But the plains Kahodi, well that's something different. They don't have that togetherness. So they are often seen running across the plains, being chased by one predator or another. Their meat is also very lean. A question I often ask my crew is, `Are we arboreal Kahodi or a plains Kahodi?' Meaning that, if push comes to shove..."
    River rolled his eyes. "I've got other animals to save."
    "Yes, yes. Of course! I applaud your bravado! In fact, it reminds me of when I was a young shipmate on the Blarbo. You see, the Blarbo was one of the nastiest pirate ships this side of Ewerope..."
    River jumped back in the water.
    Splash. Something with fins and a shiny beak dove into the water. Its fur coat drifted out around its body as it sped along.
    River stared at the curving blue-green tattoo on the creature's belly. A platypus. With a tattoo. Why do I remember him?
    He shrugged, searching the debris. He found a large chunk of the hull, along with a pair of impossibly heavy cannons.
    A scimitar lay on the floor next to the timbers, along with a gold coin.
    He came across a chest. Thinking the bubbles nothing, he went on.
    A necklace. Plates. Fish hooks. Naugha and other creatures' skins. Nails.
    A gorilla face once again poked in the water. River ignored it.
    River looked back at the platypus. It had stopped at the chest, tapping on the side. The creature pressed its head to the wood, then tried to lift the lid.
    A large lock had been affixed over the latch, and it was closed.
    The creature looked River in the eyes, gesticulating wildly at the chest.
    River made motions like he wasn't interested in the treasure.
    The platypus made choking motions, again gesturing to the chest.
    River's eyes widened as the realization of what was being said. He dove at the chest. Wrapping his arms around it, he pushed off with his legs and his tail. He found it heavy. He had difficulty with it. The platypus got its body behind it, and it moved. They shoved it up on the shore.
    The platypus squinted at the crack between the lid and the box. "Are you in there, mate?"
    No response.
    "Don't worry. We'll get you out in a jiffy!" He tried lifting the lid, but the latch was affixed securely with a lock. He craned his neck around, looking at River. "You don't happen to have a lockpick, do you mate?"
    The gorilla lumbered down to the edge of the beach, plopping down on a rock. It stuck its finger in its ear, pulled out a glob of wax, and ate it.
    "I think I might," the otter said. He called to the gorilla. "Excuse me, sir! Can you help us with this lock? We seem to have misplaced the key."
    The gorilla grunted and gave River a nod. It loped over to the chest, examining the lock.
    With a growl of exertion, it gave the lock a mighty tug, making the brackets on the chest rattle.
    It banged, pulled and twisted the thing several times, becoming more furious by the second. The gorilla kicked and pounded on the chest, roaring with outrage.
    It carried on like this for more than two minutes before finally stomping off.
    "Great," said the platypus. "Now what?"
    River shrugged. "I suppose I could dive around some more until I find a lock-" His jaw fell open.
    The gorilla carried a huge flat rock on its shoulders, marching toward the chest with a look of intense anger. The two stepped back.
    The gorilla roared and the rock slammed down like an axe, bashing the tumbler segment free from the catch.
    The platypus leaped at the chest, throwing the lid open.
    A cascade of water poured out.
    Inside, a frightened looking lemur in a blue coat and canvas pants lay curled in a fetal position, inhaling the remaining water through a set of gills on its neck.
    With a worried cry, the gorilla shoved the chest over. The lemur fell out on the beach, the water pouring back into the river.
    The lemur wheezed, desperately gasping for air. It flopped like a fish, panting and wheezing.
    "What's going on?" said the otter. "What's wrong with him?"
    "Isn't it obvious? He can't shut off his gills!" The platypus picked up the creature, throwing it in the water. He sighed. "Poor thing. He did what he had to do to survive."
    River stared at him. "Who are you?"
    "What do you mean, `who am I?' You know who I am!"
    "No I don't. Who are you?"
    "Oh c'mon. This is a bad time to be playin' games." He gestured to a shore a few yards away where a group of animals sat. "I've got five survivors over there, and more are probably drowning or stuck, and they need our help. Now let's not be silly and pretending like we don't know each other."
    "I...I'm not pretending. Now if you'd kindly tell me who you are, I'd be much obliged to help the rescue effort."
    "I'm Epin. What's wrong with you, Damien? You get knocked in the head or something?"
    "I'm Epin. What's wrong with you, Damien? You get knocked in the head or something?"
    "Yes, I did. I wouldn't waste time asking these questions otherwise," the otter said. "Not with lives on the line."
    Epin shrugged. He gestured to his right. "You take that side and check for survivors over there. I'll check the other direction."
    River nodded, jumping into the water.
    He swam ahead, passing over the scattered debris. As he swam over what he guessed to be the dining hold, he noticed splashing.
    He looked back and saw the lemur trailing him. With a shrug, he swam on.
    After floating by piles of supplies, boards, and personal effects, he came upon the shattered remains of a crew cabin.
    Broken boards framed a chasm-like hole in the cabin, where the limp legs of animals drifted. The otter swam in, feeling a sinking sensation in his gut.
    Against the back wall, he saw the mutilated body of a kangaroo, its guts flayed open, arms and legs affixed to the wood with several daggers. Someone had carved the word `skullsong' into the board above its head.
    River jolted back in surprise and felt someone bump into him. He turned his head, thinking it to be the lemur. It wasn't.
    A dog hung from a noose attached to the ceiling, its dead body moving with the current.
    The body of an opossum drifted loose in the center of the cabin, its chest filled with musket shrapnel.
    He was relieved to see bubbles coming out of the back corner.
    A female otter, dressed in a white tunic and black leggings, had been chained to the wall in manacles. Someone had hooked the chains on the iron rings designed for securing cargo.
    He looked around for something to unlock it with, but didn't find anything. A saw hung on a nearby hook, but a saw needed an open space to start cutting at. The area around the rings was one solid wall. He thought about cutting the shackles with the saw, but it would just dull the blade.
    He saw a chest, but a padlock prevented access to its contents.
    He turned and looked at the lemur.
    The lemur shrugged, swimming out the hole.
    As soon as he floated outside, a huge cloud of black liquid swallowed him. For several seconds, River couldn't see anything out there.
    The cloud passed.
    With weak, awkward movements, the lemur drifted in the cabin, clutching its chest. Its body spasmed, clouds of bubbles bursting out of its mouth.
    It swam to the otter, grasping his arm. He brought out a pair of copper keys, handing them to him. Looking worried, he snatched up the keys.
    He hurriedly unlocked the female's shackles. He pulled the unconscious body out, swimming to the surface.
    He placed her on the shore, checking for signs of life. Despite the fact he'd seen bubbles coming out of her mouth, she wasn't breathing. When he held his head to her mouth, the brown fuzzy face didn't emit any air.
    He commenced his assisted breathing techniques.
    The female breathed. Her eyes opened. Wide.
    Her paw came up, slapping him across the face.
    River backed off, staring at her.
    "Don't you ever touch me again!" she screamed. She sat up, scooting away from him, her eyes wild with fear. She got to her feet, giving him a ferocious glare. "One of these days, Damien, you're going to get what's coming to you! Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday one of your comrades is going to find out your little secret and stab you in the back! I'm just sorry I won't be there to see it when it happens!" She stomped away into the woods. She stopped about halfway into a cluster of brush, shooting him a look of pure hatred. "Skullsong!" She threw a rock at him, but it only dropped in the sand a yard away.
    She ran off.
    The lemur crawled up on the beach, flopping face first in the sand. It coughed several times, then threw up.
    The otter cautiously approached. "Are you okay?"
    "Sick," said the lemur, pulling back into the water.
    Epin walked up the beach, waving to River. "Did you find any more?"
    "One. She didn't want to be rescued."
    "You might as well give it up," said the bulldog. "Everyone else is dead."
    "Do you know that for a fact?"
    "I don't need to. It's a wonder that anyone got through that wreck alive."
    "What you need is a more positive outlook," said a voice behind him. "The greatest seafaring captains all have one thing in common. A positive, can-do spirit. Why, just think of the noble Captain Jad of the Blue Beetle. During his long career as a merchant captain, he's faced countless setbacks and discouragements, including having his ship captured by the infamous pirate Blackbird. Captain Jad..."
    "Will somebody please shut him up?" the dog whined. "He's been giving me lectures all day long!"
    The platypus shrugged, looking River in the eyes. "We had a crew of two hundred. I've found many bodies, but I and my friends have recovered about four survivors apiece. We've got roughly twenty four on the beach now. At last count, we've found about thirty dead. I don't know how many dead you've found, but I figure that leaves about a hundred unaccounted for, as well as the fifty slaves below decks."
    "Probably crushed to death," said the bulldog.
    "You'd be surprised at the resilience of the spirit," said the parrot. "I heard a story once about how a group of pandas mining for diamonds in Avia were trapped in a cave-in for five weeks! They stayed alive on cave fungis and underground pools..."
    "I'm going to stuff sand in your mouth."
    "I must remind you that I am second in command to the capt-" Before the parrot could finish, he had a clod of sand and seaweed crammed in his mouth.
    "I came to the end of the wreckage," said Epin. "Nothing but sand and rocks past that. Unless more of it washes downstream, I believe the rest of it will be at your end." He gestured upstream. "We should get our team together and go that way."
    They spent the rest of the day searching. River met the various members of the crew, learning their names and introducing himself. By the time the sun had turned red and sunk to the horizon, they had uncovered forty dead and brought thirty living creatures back to the surface. Only three slaves had survived. The rest had been crushed to death.
    They came to the end of the wreckage.
    River returned to the beach and found a blazing fire had been started. A fat koala with blue genie pants turned a row of fish on a spit above the flames. A small green compsognathus gazed up at them with a hungry look. A group of animals sat around them, watching.
    "This smell's making me nauseous," said the koala.
    "Look around you. Do you see any eucalyptus trees?"
    "No, but I do see some yummy looking leaves. Meat is gross."
    "Suit yourself," the compy said, licking its lips.
    "That looks done to me!" said a hawk in a vest.
    "You're welcome to try it!"
    "I'll take that fat one on the end."
    The koala lifted the spit with a gloved hand, taking the fat fish off of it. It handed the hawk a knife.
    "Ahhh!" said the hawk. "Narehuri. It's been awhile since I've eaten it. Not much can be had in saltwater." He stuck a knife in.
    The fish exploded like a water balloon, spraying black liquid everywhere. The liquid covered the hawk's face. It screamed, flailing its arms around.
    "Droog!" the koala cried.
    "What's going on!" shouted a chimpanzee.
    The hawk fell to its knees, coughing and clutching its throat.
    Struck my a sudden memory, River held his hands out, intoning a curative spell. His hands glowed with ribbons of soft light. He walked over to the hawk, placing his paws on its feathers. "In the name of the wind and the water within thee, let this poison be purged."
    The lights in his paws dimmed and went out. Whatever the hawk had, it was more than he could handle. He felt something wet and sticky come out of the bird's feathers. A black substance poured out, seeping into River's fur. Before he could react, tendrils of ooze shot out, grabbing at his fingers and paws. He gasped and pulled away, but the substance had seeped into his fur, burrowing into the flesh beneath.
    He felt a searing sensation as the ooze disappeared in his body.
    He dropped to his knees, alive, but sick to his stomach. He made a phlegmy cough.
    "This does not bode well," said Epin. "I've seen him cure the White Plague with that."
    The hawk rolled over and coughed several times.
    The other fish had been left untouched, still roasting on the spit. The koala stared at the meat in disgust, refusing to even turn them over.
    A narrow one on the end swelled and split open. A set of black insect legs popped out of its sides. A dark hairy shape dropped on the ground next to the fire, scurrying towards the animals seated on the edge of the forest, its ringworm-like tentacles snapping in the air.
    Giving another cough, River extended a hand toward the strange bug. A strong gust of wind lifted the insect off its feet and tossed it into the air, where another burst of wind launched it well away from the campfire and the gathered creatures.
    The otter shivered. He felt like he were sitting in an artic wasteland instead of on a beach on the side of a forest. Normally the cold didn't bother him.
    He coughed.
    The koala picked up the rest of the fish, hurling them into the water. "Sorry, everyone! Supper is canceled!"
    No one seemed too upset. Everyone around the fire looked too disgusted to eat.
    "Did you see that black stuff?" said Epin.
    River coughed and nodded.
    "It's in the water, too." The platypus shook his beak. "What say you and me swim upstream and see where it's comin' from?"
    "If we know the cause, a cure will be that much easier to find," the otter replied. "I'll be right behind you, matey."
    The platypus nodded. "Let's go." He dived into the water.
    River jumped in after him. The water felt a lot colder than he wanted it to be.
    He swam ahead. The visibility had decreased even further with the setting of the sun.
    He scrambled blindly in the water for half a minute, not knowing where to go.
    He saw a light snap on like a switch. He looked up ahead and saw the tail, fins and beak of the platypus lit up with a neon green glow.
    He swam after him, paddling around the cloud of black liquid.
    He coughed, creating a huge cloud of bubbles. Pain shot through his lungs.
    He surfaced and dived again, forcing himself to paddle double quick to catch up with Epin. He kept pace, surfacing every few yards after involuntarily coughing and sneezing under water. Twice the platypus outswam him and he had to strain himself to find him again.
    After stopping on a rock to rest, River pleaded for him to slow down a bit.
    After a rest, they dove back in and continued upstream.
    They went on like this for more than three miles. The substance hadn't stopped. They were no nearer to the source than before.
    Epin climbed onto a sandbar and sat down, gasping for breath.
    River climbed out and rested alongside him.
    "So, Damien," the platypus panted. "What do you think? Should we keep going? Or should we stop for the night?"
    River coughed several times.
    "Poor devil. You don't look so good."
    River coughed.
    "I know you're sick, dear boy, but I have to ask your advice. You were always so good at plans. The captain even said so himself. I mean, here we are, a million kilometers from camp, we've got this stuff flowing from who knows where, and it's going to kill us all. But, blimey, we're exhausted, aren't we? A hundred knots is fine for a clipper, but..." He gasped. "What do you think? Can we take any more of this? Or you got some other plan?" He glanced into the wooded area to the side of him. "There might be a civilization around here somewhere, but it might be exhausting as a swim to find it." He shrugged. "Of course, I could be wrong and it could be right through those trees. Fat lot I know about it. I'm about to toss a coin. But you're the animal with the ideas. What do you think?"
    "I know of a place that'll take us in for the night," said River. "But I don't know if there's space for the entire crew." He quickly described his experiences at the Roost the previous evening.
    "All right, mate. Where is this place?"
    The otter paused. "I...think it's in these woods over here. Of course it's difficult to tell in the dark." He let out several hacking coughs.
    "Are you going to be okay?"
    River nodded. "Let's keep going." His teeth chattered as he said it.
    The platypus scrunched up his face and body a minute. His beak and fins became illuminated with a green glow.
    River squinted at the nearby brush. "This...doesn't look familiar. Of course I was led down a long trail before I got to the shore." He coughed.
    He wandered into a mess of sticks and weeds, staring up at the trees. Even though his friend was glowing, it had no more use as a searchlight than a neon wristband. He sneezed.
    "I hope this isn't poison ivy I'm standing in," said Epin. "That would wreck my whole day. Or night, rather."
    They wandered further in, searching the trees for signs of rope bridges or ladders or pulley elevators.
    "Blimey. Which way did we come in at?"
    "I..." River stared around in the dark. He pointed to a spot that looked like the shore. "I think it was that way." He wrapped his paws around himself, shivering.
    They marched through the weeds a few yards, but it wasn't the shore.
    "We're lost."
    River sighed. "I'm more at home on the sea." His nose now ran like a slow faucet. He sniffed the mucus in, squinting into the gloomy forest. In the night, the plants and trees took on lumpy, horrible shapes, like beasts and monsters, leering threateningly from the blackness surrounding them.
    "C'mon, mate. We're bound to find a way out if we keep going." Epin shuffled onward.
    The otter wiped his nose on his sleeve, staggering after him.
    "Oh! Hello! What's this?"
    "What's what?" River leaned into Epin's light and saw a low wooden hut lying amidst the thorns and vines.
    The platypus knocked on its shoddy front door. No answer. "Hello?" He knocked a bit louder.
    "Go away," came the answer from inside.
    "Hi! We're lost in the forest, sir! Could you be so kind as to tell us how to get out?"
    "Keep walking in a straight line. You're sure to bump into something that way. Or maybe trip over a rock. With any luck, you'll bump into some thorns or a Hurut encampment. Or maybe you'll fall down a hole and break both your legs. Right now I'm partial to you falling down a hole, but it's a tough call."
    Everything became silent.
    Epin frowned at the lopsided boards covering the door frame. He banged on them again.
    The door popped open a fraction. "Do you know how much it costs to replace this door!"
    River gave a half laugh, half cough in response.
    "Sorry, mate. But we really need help!"
    The door slammed shut.
    Epin knocked on the door again. "Let us in! We need a place to stay until daybreak when we can see where we're going!"
    "Try a tree. Poison ivy makes a nice blanket."
    "C'mon, mate! Stop joking! We're in need of lodging!"
    "An emergency on your part does not constitute an emergency on mine. Now go away before I call the sheriff."
    "I don't reckon there is a sheriff out here, kind sir."
    The door cracked open wider. In the dim light of the platypus beak, River could see that the voice belonged to a porcupine.
    "If you don't get away from my house in two seconds, I'm going to load both of you so full of quills that you'll be picking them out until sunrise!" The critter slammed the door shut.
    Epin shook his head. "Well, so much for that."
    They wandered a few feet from the crude structure.
    "Now what."
    River heard drum beats. "What's that?"
    Epin looked around in confusion. "What?"
    "Shhh!"
    "Sounds like...a tribal instrument. Maybe they're doing a stork summoning dance. Aborigines sure are wild about stork summoning." He paused. "Don't imagine you've read Friska Smelton's books on aboriginal culture. No matter. We're sure to witness it firsthand in a minute." He looked around a tree. "I do believe that is a fire over there."
    The otter cleared his congested throat.
    "What? Something the matter?"
    "Just not feeling good," River said in a raspy voice. He coughed.
    "C'mon." Epin tugged River's arm. "Let's go check out this tribe. Maybe they've got a tea you can drink."
    "You shouldn't touch me," the otter said, rapidly withdrawing his arm. "I might be contagious, like that hawk was."
    "Well I'm dimming my light, so I don't have a choice. We'll get separated for certain."
    The two crept through the weeds, coming to a cluster of shrubs.
    "Better to be open about our presence, and trust to their good nature," said River.
    "Shhh!" His companion put a webbed finger to his beak. In low tones, he said, "I've dealt with enough savages to know that it's better to err on the side of caution."
    Epin parted one shrub aside and peeked in. River looked through a gap next to it.
    Beyond, they saw an encampment of Huruts, gathered around a fire. The muscular green creatures sat on the ground in a clearing lined with shoddy cloth tents and lean-to's. To one side of the fire lay a gigantic skinned carcass of a lapine animal, which a handful of the creatures feasted upon. Flies danced upon the exposed muscles and did circles around the fire.
    A striped Hurut beat loudly upon a drum. It stopped, listening to the darkness. A minute later, drumbeats answered it from far away.
    A warty green-white mulatto clapped and hooted in approval.
    "What are they?" Epin whispered.
    "I...I..." River suddenly let out a loud sneeze.
    The mulatto sat up straight.
    It turned its head, staring in their direction.
    It stood, marching over to the bushes.
    Epin backed up.
    River sneezed again.
    The creature let out a shout.
    The other Huruts leapt to their feet with a scream.
    Oh, shells and storms, the otter thought to himself, reaching back through his mind. How did that one spell go?
    "Venus septic," the otter intoned. "No, that's not it..." He paused. "Antiseptic. No. Hace viento."
    A burly shape crashed through the bushes.
    "Ventus septi!" River shouted.
    While he was getting the last word out, he sneezed.
    Crack! Bang! Something exploded in front of him. The Hurut and a group of its comrades screamed as they burst into flame.
    "Go!" Epin shouted, pulling River's arm.
    They hadn't gone a foot before they were struck with a fierce wind, and wild air currents blew them off their feet.
    The gust picked up and they went flying.
    River heard a chorus of gurgling yells. A misshapen figure whipped past him. In the dark, he couldn't tell exactly what was happening, but he guessed that a number of the Huruts had been caught up in the wind.
    A second later, the otter slammed into a tree. He let out a scream of pain.
    Epin lost his grip, falling into the darkness with a yelp.
    In a panic, River tried to grab something on the tree to save himself from falling.
    He grabbed on to a small branch. It broke off in his paws.
    He fell, caught on a thicker branch, but a searing pain in his shoulder caused him to let go.
    River screamed and fell into the dark.
    Thud! He hit a clod of dirt.
    A shower of rock and gravel poured all around him amidst large quantities of dust.
    He dropped into somewhere cool and dark.
    After catching air for a second, he hit a slick inclined stone surface.
    He slid about twenty feet, then felt a sharp sting and ice cold water rushing about him. Before he could understand what was happening, the current had swept him several feet downstream. He tried to grab nearby rocks for purchase, but they were coated in slimy algae and fungis and offered no traction.
    He sunk back in the water helplessly as the current shifted and he was sucked into the undertow.

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