“You’re going to do exactly as Jon-Tom says.” Both of them turned to look at Talea.
“Don’t you o’ all folks go appealin’ to me ethics, redfur.”
“Why would I appeal to the nonexistent?” She walked from the sink to a nearby cabinet that held her household papers, searched through the second drawer until she found several sheets clipped together. As she spoke her eyes traveled down the pages.
“Mudge the otter: Expenses Incurred.” The otter gaped at her, then at Jon-Tom, who wore an equally blank expression. “Room and board; three meals a day, sometimes four; evening snacks; transportation to and from Lynchbany; laundry—want me to read you the totals, or should I just go on with the list?”
“Now wait a bloody minute, luv! I’m your bloomin’ friend from years back, I am. Did I charge you for the times I bailed you out o’ damp jails, or protected your arse against a concealed blade? Wot’s all this rot about expenses, then?”
She handed him the papers. “Keep that for your records, if you want. I have a copy.”
Mudge’s eyes ran rapidly down the list. “This is bleedin’ outrageous, is wot it is! ’Tis not only illegal and immoral, ’tis outright insultin’. Wot kind o’ friend o’ me youth are you, anyways?”
“A cautious one. That’s one thing you taught me. Of course,” and she smiled sweetly at the furious otter, “we can forget the whole bill.”
“You’re bloody right we can.” He ripped the sheets to shreds and with great dignity deposited them in the middle of the table. “That don’t mean snake-pucky. ’Tis fit for nothin’ but wipin’ one’s arse.”
“I’m sure you noted that toilet paper was included on the list,” she replied calmly. “On the contrary, that is a perfectly valid contract. Reception of services is sufficient proof of agreement to pay for services received. That’s one thing Jon-Tom taught me.”
“Bloody solicitor,” the otter grumbled, glaring up at Jon-Tom. “I made no such arrangements to pay for anythin’ when I came to stay ’ere as your guest.”
“The judge won’t know that. Who do you think he’ll believe, Mudge?” She walked over and stroked the fur on the back of his neck. He jerked away, but not very violently. “The honest, respectable wife of a noted local citizen, or a thoroughly disreputable peculator like yourself?”
“Peculator?” The otter turned on Jon-Tom. “Will you listen to this female, mate? You’re ruinin’ ’er, you are.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” He leaned back in his chair. “She doesn’t look particularly ruined to me.”
“Which’ll it be, Mudge?” She looked at her husband. “You were right. This is almost as much fun as carving someone up with a knife.”
“It’s pretty much the same thing where I come from, light of my life.”
Mudge sat down heavily. Talea didn’t let up on him. “Answer me, water rat. Do you ship out or pay up?”
Displaying his unparalleled mastery of the blue funk, the otter stared at the floor for several moments. Finally he squinted up at Jon-Tom. “You promise me this ain’t no ruse? You ain’t tryin’ to trick poor Mudge into takin’ off on another o’ your wild, life-threatenin’ trips to the backside o’ hell?”
Jon-Tom solemnly raised his right hand. “I swear we’re only taking a little ocean voyage to get my duar repaired. I don’t anticipate any trouble and I’m not going to go looking for any.”
“Huh,” the otter grunted. He swiveled his head to look at Talea. “Wot ’appens when we gets back?”
“I tear up all copies of your bill.”
“Bill, that’s a laugh.” He licked his lips and whiskers. “Do I get me room back?”
“Over my dead body.”
“Wot if this don’t turn out to be the picnic Jon-Tom claims it to be?”
“I’ll bury you in the backyard. That far I’ll go. I’ve no objection to having you around so long as I don’t have to feed you, listen to you, or smell you.”
“You always was generous to a fault, luv. Was one o’ the things I liked about you. Almost otterish.” He smiled in spite of himself. It was impossible for Mudge to stay gloomy for long. “Ah well. If one’s to be outfoxed, ’ow better than by the sauciest vixen in the ’ole Bellwoods.” He rose to confront Jon-Tom. “I’ll be comin’ along then, mate, but I warn you: If you’re tryin’ to pull a fast one I’ll be away from your side faster than a celibate at a doxy’s convention.”
“No tricks, Mudge. I promise. You and I are going to relax and enjoy a pleasant sea voyage, at the conclusion of which we’ll do a little business with a master craftsman. Then we’ll come home. That’s all. I’ve never been that far south or on an ocean voyage that long. It ought to be educational.”
“Aye, that’s wot worries me. Every trip I’ve accompanied you on ’as been too bloody educational.” Spying an unconsumed slice of Talea’s delicious tokla bread, he lunged toward the table and plucked it off its plate. He did not offer to share it with his traveling companion.
IV
THEIR BACKPACKS FILLED to bursting with the savory produce of Talea’s kitchen, anxious spellsinger and reluctant companion paused to pay their respects to Clothahump before striking off on the southern road. They found the wizard berating Sorbl for some unspecified offense which the owl insisted loudly was more imagined than real. Upon concluding his lengthy admonition, the wizard turned to the matter of his friend’s imminent departure.
“Though she needs none, I will look after Talea in your absence, Jon-Tom. I pity anyone who troubles her while you are away.”
“So do I. Talea can take care of herself, but I appreciate the concern. What about you, sir? Are you doing all right?”
“Actually, my boy, I am feeling fitter than I have in some time.” He glanced back over his shell. “Things would be better still if I could beat some sense into that useless famulus of mine. Time will tell if Sorbl is to become something more than an alcoholic sponge. I have only just completed an extensive insurance spell for the city of Folklare and I may have to go up there in person in order to check the installation.” He lowered his head and peered over his glasses to where a bored Mudge was leaning impatiently against the tree.
“Your education is proceeding apace, I see, for it must have taken magic indeed to convince that one to accompany you.”
“Not my magic. Talea’s.”
Clothahump nodded knowingly. “I always thought that young woman had hidden talents, in addition to the visible ones.”
“Pity I never ’ad the opportunity to plumb ’em,” commented Mudge. The otter’s hearing was acute.
“Lay off, Mudge. We’re married now.” This warning only served to increase the width of the otter’s smirk. Jon-Tom gave up and looked back down at his mentor. “I have this,” and he gestured with his ramwood staff, “but I feel naked without the duar.”
“Try not to dwell on what you do not have, my boy. Soon Couvier Coulb will make it whole again. Perhaps you can convince him to fashion you a new set of interdimensional strings. Though made of metal, those you have salvaged will not last forever. Now then, when you reach Yarrowl and after booking your passage to Chejiji, I suggest you stop at a certain shop in the commercial district. It is known only by the name of its owner, which is Izfan ab-Akmajiandor, but who is called locally Dizzy Izzy. He is something of an eccentric, something of a local legend, and very much a dealer in precious and unique articles. He trades in clocks, toys—and musical instruments.”
Jon-Tom felt a rush of excitement. “You think maybe he…?”
