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knees.
I can t, he said hoarsely. Jon-Tom thought he could see tears beginning to spill from his eyes. I just
can t do it.
Goodbye, Weegee. Mudge leaned forward to clasp her tightly to him. I m sorry about all the times
we didn t ave to spend in bed so that I could show you wot a great lover I am.
And I m sorry, she murmured back, about all the times we didn t have to spend out of bed so that I
could learn what a truly fine person you are beneath all the affected crudity and false bravado.
Me, I m just plain sorry, said Cautious. The raccoon shut his eyes and waited for the first kiss of the
knife.
Fly, Jon-Tom urged the stallion. I know you can do it. You know you can do it. Remembering an
old Indian trick he d once read about he leaned over and bit the stallion s ear. Teyva started but didn t
rise.
It s no use, my final friends.
The butchers were mumbling some ceremonial nonsense next to the gate. Blessing the sacred
slaughtering knives or something, Jon-Tom thought. They had less than minutes left.
Fly, dammit!
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Uh, mate.
Don t bother me now, Mudge.
The otter was fumbling with the left inside pocket of his battered old vest. Curious in spite of himself
Jon-Tom looked back. No doubt Mudge wanted to present him with some final offering, some last token
of his esteem to cement the bond that had sprung up between them during the past months. Something
meaningful. Something that looked just like a four-inch square packet of white powder.
Weegee s outrage was palpable. Mudge!
Sorry, luv. I m weak, I guess. Never made a promise that weren t some ow qualified. He handed the
packet to Jon-Tom. As the time for spellsingin seems past, maybe tis time to try a little spellsniffm .
Give im a whiff o this just a tiny one, mind now.
Right, yeah, sure. Jon-Tom snatched the packet. In his frantic efforts to break it open he almost
dropped it. When he ripped it down the middle Mudge winced as though the tear had gone through his
back fur. Clinging to the stallion s neck with his left arm he profferred the gaping bag with his right.
Open your eyes, damn it.
Teyva blinked, saw the bag. What is that? I have already made my peace with the universe. There is
nothing more to do.
I agree, right. This will help relax you. Take a sniff.
The stallion frowned. It looks like sugar. Why sniff instead of taste? The chanting rose in pitch and the
official butchers were spreading out in a semicircle to make sure no panicky captive could dash past
them.
Please, just inhale a little. My last request.
A foolish one, but if I can make up a little at the last for all the damage I ve done I will do so. Bending
forward, the stallion dipped his nostrils to the packet and inhaled deeply. Teyva was quite a large animal.
Most of the contents of the packet vanished.
A couple of minutes slid by. Then the lead wolf raised the ceremonial blade and struck. It cleft only
empty air.
Teyva hadn t so much taken off as exploded two hundred feet straight up.
The shockingly abrupt ascension caused Jon-Tom to drop the packet and the remainder of its euphoric
contents. Cautious and Weegee had to grab Mudge to keep him from diving after it. With his tremendous
wings beating the air to a blur, the stallion hovered like a hummingbird above the corral and its stunned
occupants. Teyva not only had the wingspan of a small plane; the extraordinary rapidity of his wing beats
made him sound like one.
Well what do you know. He studied the ground far below. You were right, man. That is the ground
down there, isn t it?
Jon-Tom s heart was pounding against his chest as he clung to the black leather straps with a death grip.
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Yes. Quite a ways down, in fact.
Teyva spun in midair. My but this is interesting up here. He glanced down again. Look at them all
jumping up and down there. They seem quite exercised about something.
I imagine it s our escape.
Oh yes, our escape. We have escaped, haven t we? They were going to kill us. His gaze narrowed.
Cook us and eat us. Nasty mean old people. We should teach them a lesson.
No no! I mean, we don t have time to teach them a nooooo!
Folding his wings against his flanks, the stallion dropped like a stone toward the corral. What the startled
villagers below took to be war cries were actually screams of utter terror. Wolves, foxes and others
scattered in all directions. Some didn t flee fast enough and the stallion s front hooves cracked a few
skulls. Teyva repeated his stuka-like dive several times. Then he hovered over the center of the village
and emptied his bowels and bladder. Having lastly knocked over a brace of torches, thereby setting half
the village on fire, he fluttered overhead and surveyed the havoc he d wrought with an air of equine
equanimity.
That ought to teach them to think twice about trying to eat any helpless strangers. He glanced back at
Jon-Tom. I owe you everything, man. What can I do for you?
Aware that his skin must by now have acquired something of a greenish cast, Jon-Tom fought to form a
coherent sentence. Could you take us to a town called Strelakat Mews?
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