leaves stood against the far wall. The headboard curved
slightly forward. A pile of sheets and pillows filled the
bed, an eruption of fine linen. Jon-Tom guessed this was
not the cheapest room in the house.
From within the silks and satins came a muffled but still
familiar voice. “Is that you, Lisette? Are you comin’ back
to forgive me, luv? Wot I said, that were only a joke.
Meant nothin’ by it, I did.”
“That would be the first time,” Jon-Tom said coolly.
There was silence, then the pile of sheets stirred and a head
emerged, black eyes blinking in the darkness. “Cor, I’m
‘aving a bloody nightmare, I am! Too much bubbly.”
“I don’t know what you’ve had,” Jon-Tom said as he
moved toward the bed, “but this is no nightmare.”
Mudge wiped at his eyes with the backs of his paws.
“Right then, mate, it is no nightmare. You’re too damned
big to be a nightmare. Wot^the ‘ell are you doin’ ‘ere,
anyways?”
“Looking for you.”
26
Alan Dean Poster
“You picked the time for it.” He vanished beneath the
linens. “Where’s me clothes?”
Jon-Tom turned, searched the shadows until he’d located
the vest, cap, pants and boots. The oversized bow and
quiver of arrows lay beneath the bed. He tossed the whole
business onto the mattress.
“Here.”
“Thanks, mate.” The otter began to flow into the
clothes, his movements short and fast. ” ‘Tis a providence,
it is, wot brings you to poor oF Mudge now.”
“I don’t know about that. You actually seem glad to see
me. It’s not what I expected.”
Mudge looked hurt. “Wot, not ‘appy to see an old
friend? You pierce me to the quick. Now why wouldn’t I