bench. He showed a short sword. “Or you will eat your
own tongues for breakfast and can see how your words
taste then.”
“I just want a word with your chief. Surely one as
illustrious as he can spare a prisoner a few minutes of his
time.”
Evidently the coati’s ears were as sensitive as his nose,
because he slowed his pace until he was walking alongside
the wagon.
“I bear you no hatred, spellsinger. What do you wish to
talk about? By the way, my name is Chenelska.”
“Don’t you have any idea what your master wants with
us? What use has so great and powerful a wizard for a
mere spellsinger like me?”
Chenelska considered a moment, then glanced past Jon-
Tom to Mudge. “Tell me, water rat, is this tall human as
ignorant as he appears or is he making fun of me?”
“No.” Mudge spoke with sufficient conviction to per-
suade the coati that he was telling the truth. ” ‘E’s as
dumb as he looks.”
“Thanks, Mudge. Nice to know I can rely on your good
opinion.”
“Don’t mention it, mate.”
“Can it be,” said the dumbfounded Chenelska, “that
you have never heard of the rivalry between our master
and the one that you serve?”
“The one I serve? You mean Clothahump? I don’t serve
him. I’m not an apprentice or anything like that. He has
another who serves him. We’re just friends.”
“Indeed. Good enough friends that you undertake a
long, dangerous mission on his behalf when he lies too ill
to travel himself. A mission to cross the Glittergeist in
search of a rare and precious medicine he requires to cure
himself.”
“How the hell do you know that?” Jon-Tom said