disturb you. We could come back tomorrow.” He tried to
see past her, into the store. “You haven’t by any chance
had a couple of other out-of-town customers in recently,
have you? An old ferret, maybe accompanied by a human
female?” He held his breath.
The kangaroo scratched under her chin with her free
hand. “Nope. No one of that description. In fact, I haven’t
r
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Alan Dean Foster
had any local out-of-town customers stop by in some
time.”
Forbearing to inquire into the nature of a local out-of-
towner, which seemed to Jon-Tom to be a contradiction in
terms, he permitted himself a moment of silent exultation.
They’d done it! With Drom’s help they’d succeeded in
beating Jalwar to Crancularn. Now he could relax. The
object of their long, arduous journey was almost in his
grasp.
He turned to leave. “We don’t want to upset your siesta.
We’ll come back tomorrow.”
A small brown shape pushed past him. Mudge took
up an aggressive stance on the lowest step. “Now let’s
‘old on a minim ‘ere, guv’nor.” The otter fixed the
proprietress with a jaundiced eye. “This ‘ere dump is
the place I’ve been ‘earin’ about for weeks? This
cobbled-together wreck is the marvelous, the wondrous,
the magnificent Shop o’ the Aether and Neither? And
you’re the owner?”
The kangaroo nodded.
“Well,” announced Mudge in disgust, “it sure as ‘ell
don’t look like much to me.”
“Mudge!” Jon-Tom angrily grabbed the otter by his
shoulder.
The kangaroo, however, did not appear upset. “Ap-
pearances can be deceiving, my fuzzy little cousin.” She
turned to face Jon-Tom as she stood on enormous, power-