“We’ll make it all right, guv’nor.” He was smiling
broadly as he gave Jon-Tom a friendly whack on the back.
“Bake me for a brick, mate, but you sure ‘ad me fooled!
‘Ere I was expectin’ you to conjure up somethin’ like a
ten-foot-tall demon to demolish them bastards, and instead
you slickered me as well as them.”
“I knew that if I tried anything overt, Corroboc would
have me riding a pike before the day was out.” Jon-Tom
adjusted their heading.
“Aye, that ‘e would. Crikey but that were a neat slip o’
thought, puttin’ ’em all gentle to beddy-bye like you did,
and then freein’ up the monster missus there.” He nodded
in Roseroar’s direction.
“Actually I’d intended to go looking for the key,”
Jon-Tom told him, trying to hide his embarrassment.
“When I realized I didn’t have the slightest idea where
Corroboc’s keyring was hidden I knew the only chance we
had left was to free Roseroar.”
The tigress stepped down from the mast to join them,
staring back over the stern. “Ah only wish ah’d had a few
minutes to mahself on that boat.” Her eyes narrowed and
she growled low enough to chill the blood of her compan-
ions. “That fust mate, fo example. Wouldn’t he have been
surprised when he’d woke up without his—”
134
Alan Dean Poster
“Roseroar,” Jon-Tom chided her, “that’s no way for a
lady to talk.”
She showed sharp teeth, huge fangs. “That depends on
the lady, don’t it, Jon-Tom?” Suddenly she pushed past
him, frowning as she squinted into the distance.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, turned to look aft.
She spoke evenly, unafraid, and ready.