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and spread out his own blanket. He was dead tired, and it would soon be
morning.
Right then his body needed comforting more than his ego....
XVIII
Two days of climbing the rapids followed, during which the only danger they
had to cope with was the burning in Jon-Tom's ears as he was compelled to
endure
Mudge's reciting and embroidering of the story of his escape from the
monstrous chameleon. When the horned color-changer grew to twice the size of
Falameezar, even Flor threatened to beat the glib otter.
On the fourth day they encountered signs of habitation. Plowed fields, homes
with neatly thatched or slate-tiled roofs, smoking chimneys, and small docks
with boats tied to them began to slip past.
Falameezar would glide deeper in the water, keeping only his eyes, ears, and
passengers above the surface as he breathed through his gills. Anyone on shore
watching would think the several travelers were floating atop a peculiarly low
boat.
On the tenth day Clothahump noted a group of low hills off to their left.
Rapids lay directly ahead, though they were not nearly as swift as those that
cut
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01%20-%20Spellsinger.txt through the Duggakurra hills close by buried
Pfeiffunmunter.
"You may put us ashore here, friend dragon. We are quite close to the city."
"But why?" Falameezar sounded disappointed. "The river is still deep and the
current not too strong." He puffed smoke ahead. "I can pass on easily."
"Yes, but your presence with us might panic the inhabitants."
"I know." The downcast dragon let out a sigh. "I shall put you in to land,
then.
What shall I do next?"
Jon-Tom threw Clothahump a look, and the wizard subsided in the youth's favor.
"I'll talk to the commissars of the Polastrindu commune. Perhaps they might
accept you as a member."
"Do you think so? I had no idea so enlightened a community existed." Fiery
eyes stared back down at Jon-Tom hopefully. "That would be wonderful. I'm
certainly willing to do my share of the work."
"You've already done more than that this trip, comrade Falameezar. Clothahump
is right, though, in suggesting you wait here in the river. Even the most
educated comrades can sometimes react thoughtlessly when confronted by the
unfamiliar."
He leaned forward, and the dragon bent his neck back and down as Jon-Tom
whispered to him, "There are counterrevolutionaries everywhere!"
"I know. Be on your guard, comrade Jon-Tom."
"I will."
The dragon eased into shore. They marched down his back and tail, passing
supply packs from hand to hand. A well-used track halfway between a wide trail
and a small road led over the hills. Jon-Tom looked back for a moment. The
others had already started up the road. Flor was alive with excitement at the
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prospect of entering the strange city. Her enthusiasm made her glow like the
lining of clouds after a storm.
He waved to the dragon. "Be well, comrade. Up the revolution."
"Up the revolution!" the dragon rumbled back, saluting him with a blast of
fire and smoke. Then the ferocious head dipped beneath the surface. A flurry
of bubbles and some fading, concentric ripples marked with a watery flower the
place where the dragon sank. Then they too were gone.
Jon-Tom waded, his long legs and walking staff soon bringing him up alongside
his companions, despite the burden of guilt he carried. Falameezar was far too
nice a dragon to have been so roundly deceived. Perhaps they'd left him
happier than he'd been before, though.
"What do you think he'll do?" Caz moved next to Jon-Tom. "Will he stay and
wait for you to return?"
"How should I know? I'm no expert on the motivations of dragons. His political
beliefs seem unshakable, but he tends more to philosophizing than action, I
think. He might simply grow bored and swim back downstream to his familiar
feeding grounds." He looked sharply at the rabbit. "Why? Do you expect trouble
in Polastrindu?"
"One never knows. The larger the city, the more arrogant the citizens, and
we're not exactly the bearers of good news. We shall see."
An hour's hike had brought them to the crest of the last hill. Finally the
destination of so many days' traveling lay exposed to their sight.
It was wonderful, yes, but it was a flawed wonderment. They started down the
hill. Why should a city here be so very different from any other? he thought
sardonically.
There was a massive stone wall surrounding the city. It was intricately
decorated with huge bas-reliefs and buttressed at ground level. Several gates
showed in the wall, but the traffic employing them was sparse.
It was not a market day, Caz explained. Farmers were not bringing produce into
the city, nor distant craftsmen and traders their wagon-borne wares.
There was somewhat more activity to the south of the city. The great wall ran
almost to the river there. At least a dozen vessels were tied to the rotting
docks. Some were similar to the sail-and-oar-powered keel-type boat that Caz
had fled from that day on the river. Jon-Tom wondered if that very same ship
might be among those bobbing gently at anchor below them. Barges and fishing
vessels comprised the rest of the motley but serviceable flotilla.
"The main gate is on the opposite side of the city, to the northwest and
facing
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01%20-%20Spellsinger.txt the Swordsward."
"What's that?" Flor wondered aloud. "Have you been there? It seems like you've
been everywhere."
Caz cleared his throat. "No, I have not. I've been no farther than anyone
else, I should say. It is a vast, some say endless, ocean of vegetation
inhabited by vile aborigines and dangerous creatures.
"We have no need to march around the whole city. The harbor gate should be a
quite satisfactory ingress."
They continued down the winding path, which had now expanded to road size.
Curious fellow travelers let their gaze linger long on the unusual group.
Lizard-drawn wagons and carts trundled past them. Sometimes riders on
individual mounts would run or hop past. There was even a wealthy family on a
small riding snake.
Clothahump was enjoying himself. He moved with much less effort downhill than
up. His glance turned upward. "Pog! Anything to report, you useless
miscreant?"
The bat yelled down to them as he dipped lower in the sky. "Da usual aerial
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