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"Have some breakfast?"
"In a minute." Jon-Tom put his staff aside. He moved into the kitchen and
walked slowly around the hovering cage, never taking his eyes from it.
TBE MOKBNT OF THE MAOJCJAM
67
With a finger, he tested one of the threads. It refused to move no matter how
hard he pushed or pulled on it. He had to pull away fast because the bound
creature inside tried to bite off his finger.
Sharp teeth just managed to nick his skin. He sucked on the thin cut.
"I'm sorry, Mudge," he said, "but I didn't have anything to do with this."
"Oi now, didn't you, you stretched-out offspring of an otherworldly bitch? You
slippery sliver-tongued bastard. Of course you didn't 'ave nothin' to do with
it, you and that calcified lump of solid bone wot calls
'imself a sorcerer."
Clothahump ignored this tirade and continued to slurp daintily at his meal.
"Don't give me that crap, matel You and 'im *ave always been in league with
one another against me.
Don't try to deny it! 'Tis been that way all along."
Jon-Tom continued to suck on the Finger his friend had attempted to amputate,
spoke quietly. "He was just supposed to find you and send you a message."
He turned to face the wizard. "You were just sup-
posed to send him a message."
Clothahump considered, the spoon halfway to his mouth. "I did send a message,
my boy, and you were correct in your concerns. He was quite a distance away,
in a town near Kreshfarm-in-the-Geegs."
"It weren't far enough!" Mudge howled. He tried to sit down, but the
enveloping ropes prevented the maneuver, and he had to settle for leaning up
against the threads. "Seems it'll never be far enough to get me away from you
two arseholes! It won't stop me from tryin', though. I'll never stop tryin'l"
He glared accusingly at Jen-Tom.
"Why, mate? I thought after that little sea voyage I
*elped you out with we were even up."
Jen-Tom found himself unable to meet the otter's
Alan Dean Foster
68
gaze. "We were... as far as that particular trip was concerned. Unfortunately,
something new has come up." He tried to smile. "You know how highly I value
your company and assistance."
"And you want good old 'appy-go-lucky Mudge along to 'old your bleedin* 'and,
right? Or maybe to push you along in your pram?"
When Jon-Tom didn't reply, the otter turned his attention back to the kitchen
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table. "Untie me, you disgustin' ball of reptilian corruption, or when I get
out of 'ere, I swears I'll shove you in on yourself and cement up all the
openin's!"
"Now, now." Clothahump dabbed delicately at his mouth with a linen napkin.
"Let us remember who
we are talking to."
"Oh, I know who I'm talkin' to, all right. The world's master meddler. I don't
care anymore, you see? So I can say wotever I want. Turn me into a snake, turn
me into a worm, even turn me into a bloody 'uman. See if I care. Because
you've gone too far this time, the two of you, and I've 'ad it! I'm not goin'
anywhere." He nodded in Jon-Tom's direction.
"Especially not with 'im. Not across any oceans, not into any fights, not to
the local market to buy chestnuts.
Nowhere, nohow, no way!"
Jon-Tom switched to rubbing his bitten finger.
"Ever hear of Quasequa, Mudge?"
The otter frowned down at him. "Qua wot?"
"Quasequa. It lies far to the south of the Bellwoods.
Exquisite country, a beautiful tropical city built out on a vast lake. The
kind of place an otter, it seems to me, would find downright paradisaical."
"Charming, friendly inhabitants;' Clothahump added without glancing up from
his meal, "who know how to make a stranger feel at home. Especially, I am
told, the ladies."
TBS MOMENT OF TJXE MAGfCUUr
69
Mudge seemed to waver, but only for an instant-
Then his determination returned.
"Oh, no, you ain't goin' to smooth-talk me into it again. Not this time. I
know 'ow you two operate, I
does." He nodded again toward Jon-Tom. "This one's
*alf solicitor and 'alf devil. Between the two of you, you could sell ice to
polar bears- No, I'll 'ave none of it this time. Do what you want to me."
Jon-Tom approached the cage, his best profes-
sional smile fairly lighting up the dim kitchen. He was careful, however, not
to get within biting dis-
tance of his best friend.
"Aw, c'mon, Mudge. One more time. For old times*
sake. Be a friend." The otter didn't reply, stared stolidly at the far wall.
"I know you're upset right now, and I can under-
stand why. I sympathize, really. I meant it when I
said I had nothing to do with bringing you here like this. I was going to come
out and meet you, but
Clothahump decided that it was important to try and save time, I guess, so he
brought you here this way
without telling me of his plans."
*Time. Let me tell you somethin' about time, mate.
Do you 'ave any idea where I was when 'is sorcerership there yanked me out of
reality and into nothingness?
Do you 'ave any idea what five minutes in Chaos is like?"
"There are somewhat smoother methods of generat-
ing the transition," Clothahump murmured, "but they take too much time."
"Do they now? Time, wot? I'll tell you about time."
A wistful expression came over his face. "There I
was, sittin* in Shorvan's Gambling Palace in down-
town Toothrust... which is a good place for a gam-
bling chap like meself to be... 'oldin* twelve of a kind. Twelve of a kind!"
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He almost broke out sobbing, but managed to restrain himself.
Alan Dean Foster
70
"And the pot... there was enough gold in that pot, me friends, to set me up
for three, four years o*
comfort. So I'm gettin' ready to make me play, see, because I know wot the
score is and that the one chap with a chance to stop me 'as to be bluffin'
because 'e ain't 'oldin' diddly-squat in 'is paws. This bum's a foxie with no
moxie, see? I can read 'is bloomin' whiskers, and I know I've got 'im beat, I
know I dol So I push in all me chips, a great galumphin' pile won at great
labor and pain, and wot do you think 'appens to me and me twelve of a kind,
eh? Wot?" Jon-Tom said nothing.
"I'm jerked bodily into Unfamiliar Chaos, which ain't no garden spot, I can
tell you, and then finds meself bound up like a B&D 'oliday gift in this
bloody cage so's that tuft o' blotchy, moth-eaten feathers over there can tell
me that I've been sum-
moned hence because you, mate, needs me 'elp on one of your forthcomin'
suicidal excursions."
Jon-Tom glared at Ctothahump, who appeared not in the least distressed. "You
did say, my boy, that you wanted his company on this journey. If anything, I
expressed a dissenting opinion."
"I said that I wanted his help, his willing help."
"Best not to waste time," the turtle harrumphed, "debating semantics."
"If you don't want to waste time," Jon-Tom said, **why not send us to Quasequa
tlie same way you
brought him here?"
"It's not quite that simple, my boy. Bringing and sending are quite different
things. The spells are more complex than you can imagine. Bringing takes
enough out of you, and 1 am not at all adept, I
confess, at sending. If I were better at either, I'd bring this Markus person
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