nonstop debauchery and the huge mea! of the previous
night, the otter had to be helped to the bathroom. He got
his pants on backwards and his boots on opposite feet.
Jon-Tom straightened him out and together they worked
their way through Tims witty in search of transportation.
From a nervous dealer badly in need of business they
rented a low wooden wagon pulled by a single aged dray
lizard, promising to drop it off at the port of Yarrowl at the
mouth of the Tailaroam. From Yarrowl it should be a
simple matter to book passage on a merchantman making
the run across the Glittergeist to Snarken.
They succeeded in slipping quietly out of town without
catching the eye of Madam Lorsha or her hirelings and
were soon heading south along the narrow trade road.
Once within the forest Mudge relaxed visibly.
” ‘Peers we gave the old harridan the slip, mate.”
Jon-Tom’s eyebrows lifted. “We?”
“Well now, guv’nor, since ’tis we who are goin* on this
little jaunt and we who are goin’ to risk our lives for the
sake o’ some half-dotty ol’ wizard, I think ’tis fair enough
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for me to say that ’tis we who escaped the clutches of her
haunches.”
“Plural good and plural bad, is that it?” Jon-Tom
chucked the reins, trying to spur the ancient lumbering
reptile to greater speed. “I guess you’re right.”
“Nice of you to agree, mate,” said Mudge slyly. “So
‘ow’s about lettin’ me ‘ave a looksee at our money?”
“I’ll keep an eye on our travel expenses, thanks. I need
your help with several matters, Mudge, but counting coin