Varmous, grimacing in pain, held up his hand. “I have heard enough. Cugel, your conduct has been unwise, to say the very least.”

“That is not a sound judgment!” cried Cugel hotly.

Varmous made a weary gesture. “Is it not immaterial? The caravan is destroyed! We are left helpless out on the Ildish Waste! In another month the wind will blow sand over our bones.”

Cugel looked down to his boots. They were scuffed and dull, but magic might still reside in them. He pitched his voice in tones of dignity. “The caravan can still proceed, through the courtesy of the excoriated and savagely denounced Cugel.”

Varmous spoke sharply: “Please convey your exact meaning!”

“It is possible that magic still remains in my boots. Make ready your wagons and carriages. I will raise them into the air and we will continue as before.”

Varmous at once became energetic. He instructed his teamsters, who brought as much order as possible to their wagons and carriages. Ropes were tied to each and the passengers took their places. Cugel, walking from vehicle to vehicle, kicked to apply that levitational force still clinging to his boots. The wagons and carriages drifted into the air; the teamsters took the ropes and waited for the signal. Varmous, whose bruised muscles and sprained joints prevented him from walking, elected to ride aboard the Avventura. Cugel started to follow, but Varmous stopped him.

“We need only a single look-out, a man of proved judgment, who will be Shilko. If I were not crippled, I would gladly tow the ship, but that duty must now devolve upon you. Take up the rope, Cugel, and lead the caravan along the road at your best speed.”

Recognizing the futility of protest, Cugel seized the rope and marched off down the road, towing the Avventura behind him.

At sunset, the wagons and carriages were brought down and camp was made for the night. Slavoy, the chief teamster, under the supervision of Varmous, set out the guard-fence; a fire was built and wine was served to defeat the gloom of the company.

Varmous made a terse address. “We have suffered a serious set-back and much damage has been done. Still, it serves no purpose to point the finger of blame. I have made calculations and taken advice from Doctor Lalanke, and I believe that four days of travel will bring us to Kaspara Vitatus, where repairs can be made. Until then, I hope that no one suffers undue inconvenience. A final remark! The events of today are now in the past, but two mysteries still oppress us: the disappearances of Ivanello and Ermaulde. Until these matters are clarified, all must be careful! Wander nowhere alone! At any suspicious circumstance, be sure to notify me.”

The evening meal was served and a mood of almost frenetic gaiety overcame the company. Sush, Skasja and Rlys performed a set of bounding, hopping exercises and presently it became clear that they were mimicking the wind-stick devils.

Clissum became elevated by wine. “Is it not wonderful?” he cried out. “This excellent vintage has stimulated all three segments of my mind, so that while one observes this fire and the Ildish Waste beyond, another composes exquisitely beautiful odes, while the third weaves festoons of imaginary flowers to cover the nudity of passing nymphs, also imaginary!”

The ecclesiarch Gaulph Rabi listened to Clissum with disapproval and put four drops of aspergantium, rather than the customary three, into his own wine. “Is it necessary to go to such inordinate extremes?”

Clissum raised a wavering finger. “For the freshest flowers and the most supple nymphs, the answer is: emphatically yes!”

Gaulph Rabi spoke severely: “At the Collegium we feel that contemplation of even a few infinities is stimulation enough, at least for persons of taste and culture.” He turned away to continue a conversation with Perruquil. Clissum mischievously sprinkled the back of Gaulph Rabi’s gown with a pervasively odorous sachet, which caused the austere ecclesiarch great perplexity to the end of the evening.

With the dying of the embers, the mood of the company again became subdued, and only reluctantly did they go off to their beds.

Aboard the Avventura Varmous and Shilko now occupied the berths which had been those of Ivanello and Ermaulde, while Cugel kept to his tent on the bow.

The night was quiet. Cugel, for all his fatigue, was unable to sleep. Midnight was marked by a muffled chime of the ship’s clock.

Cugel dozed. An unknown period of time went by.

A small sound aroused Cugel to full alertness. For a moment he lay staring up into the dark; then, groping for his sword, he crawled to the opening of the tent.

The mast-head light cast a pale illumination along the deck. Cugel saw nothing unusual. No sound could be heard. What had aroused him?

For ten minutes Cugel crouched by the opening, then slowly returned to his cushion.

Cugel lay awake … The faintest of sounds reached his ears: a click, a creak, a scrape … Cugel again crawled to the opening of his tent.

The mast-head lamp cast as many shadows as puddles of light. One of the shadows moved and sidled out across the deck. It seemed to carry a parcel.

Cugel watched with an eery prickling at the back of his neck. The shadow jerked to the rail and with a most peculiar motion tossed its burden over the side. Cugel groped back into his tent for his sword, then crawled out upon the fore-deck.

He heard a scrape. The shadow had merged with other shadows, and could no longer be seen.

Cugel crouched in the dark and presently thought to hear a faint squealing sound, abruptly stilled.

The sound was not repeated.

After a time Cugel hunched back into the tent, and there kept vigil, cramped and cold … With eyes open, he slept. A maroon beam from the rising sun glinted into his open eyes, startling him into full awareness.

With groans for twinges and aches, Cugel hauled himself erect. He donned his cloak and hat, buckled the sword around his waist and limped down to the main deck.

Varmous was only just emerging from his berth when Cugel peered in through the doorway. “What do you want?” growled Varmous. “Am I not even allowed time to adjust my garments?”

Cugel said: “Last night I saw sights and I heard sounds. I fear that we may discover another disappearance.”

Varmous uttered a groan and a curse. “Who?”

“I do not know.”

Varmous pulled on his boots. “What did you see and what did you hear?”

“I saw a shadow. It threw a parcel into the thicket. I heard a clicking sound, and then the scrape of a door. Later I heard a cry.”

Varmous donned his rough cape, then pulled the flat broad-brimmed hat down over his golden curls. He limped out on deck. “I suppose that first of all we should count noses.”

“All in good time,” said Cugel. “First let us look into the parcel, which may tell us much or nothing.”

“As you wish.” The two descended to the ground. “Now then: where is the thicket?”

“Over here, behind the hull. If I had not been witness, we would never have known.”

They circled the ship and Cugel clambered into the black fronds of the thicket. Almost at once he discovered the parcel and gingerly pulled it out into the open. The two stood looking down at the object, which was wrapped in soft blue fabric. Cugel touched it with his toe. “Do you recognize the stuff?”

“Yes. It is the cloak favored by Perruquil.”

They looked down at the parcel in silence. Cugel said: “We now can guess the identity of the missing person.”

Varmous grunted. “Open the parcel.”

“You may do so if you like,” said Cugel.

“Come now, Cugel!” protested Varmous. “You know that my legs cause me pain when I stoop!”

Cugel grimaced. Crouching, he twitched at the binding. The folds of the cloak fell back, to reveal two bundles of human bones, cleverly interlocked to occupy a minimum volume. “Amazing!” whispered Varmous. “Here is either magic or sheer paradox! How else can skull and pelvis be interlocked in such intricate fashion?”

Cugel was somewhat more critical. “The arrangement is not altogether elegant. Notice: Ivanello’s skull is nested into Ermaulde’s pelvis; similarly with Ermaulde’s skull and Ivanello’s pelvis. Ivanello especially would be annoyed by the carelessness.”