The other man was so still that not even his chest moved with the process of breathing. The absolute stillness was camouflaged for a mo- ment by the fact that the octopuses threw slow, vague shadows as they circled the room- The manikin on Khamwas’s shoulder was executing some sort of awkward dance with his legs stiff and his arm akimbo.
“Khamwas!” the caravan master repeated sharply. “I think we need to get outta here now.”
Tjainufi said, “Do not say, ‘I will undertake the matter,’ if you will not.”
Almost simultaneously, the Napatan shook himself like a diver surfac- ing after a deep plunge and opened his eyes. He stood, wobbling a little and using the staff for support. His face broadened with a smile of bright relief.
“Samlor,” he said, obviously ignorant of anything that had happened around him since he dropped into a trance. “I’ve found it-or at least we need to go down.”
“We need to-” began the caravan master angrily. Tjainufi was watch- ing him. The manikin’s features were too small to have readable expres- sion in this light, but the creature must think that . . .
“Look,” Samlor resumed, speaking to-at-Tjainufi, “I don’t mean I want to get out because we found what / wanted, I mean-“
“Oh!” said Star. There was a mild implosion, air rushing to fill a small void. “There’s nothing inside.”
She’d opened the box, Samlor saw as he turned. His emotions had gone flat-they’d only be in the way just now-and his senses gave him frozen images of his surroundings in greater detail than he would be able to imagine when he wasn’t geared to kill or run.