Mudge could comment, “is available only from a certain
shop. In the town of Crancularn.”
The orang started ever so slightly, puffed furiously on
his pipe. “Crancularn, ai?”
“In the Shop of the Aether and Neither.”
“Weel now.” The orang banged his pipe on the side of
the table, knocking out the dottle while making certain not
to stain his silk-and-satin attire. “I have neever been to
Crancularn. But I have heard rumor of theese shop you
seek. Some say eet ees no more than that, a device of the
veelagers of theese town to breeng attention upon them-
selves. Others, they say more.”
“But you’ve never been there,” said Roseroar.
“No. I don’t know anyone who’s actually been there.
But I do know where eet ees supposed to lie.”
“Where?” Jon-Tom leaned forward anxiously.
The orang lifted a massive, muscular arm and pointed
westward. “There. That way.”
Mudge tugged irritably at his whiskers. “Precise direc-
tions, why can’t any of these helpful blokes we run into
ever give us precise directions?”
“Don’t worry.” The orang smiled. “Eef you want to
find eet badly enough, you weel. People know where eet
ees. They just don’t go there, that’s all.”
“Why not?”
The orang shrugged, smacked thick lips around the stem
of his pipe. “Beats mee, stranger. I’ve neever had the
desire to go and find out. Thee fact that no one else goes
there strikes mee as reeson enough not to go. Eef you are
bound to go, I weesh you thee best of luck.” He stepped
back from the table. The main room of the inn’s restaurant
was jammed with diners now, and his table lay on the other