"You mean we'll take it wherever that Haplo wants to go." Paithan shook his head. "He's strange. I don't know what to make of him."

Absorbed in their worries, neither man noticed a delicate white hand lay hold of the window curtain, draw it slightly to one side.

"Yeah, well, neither do I," Roland admitted. "But-"

"And I don't want to tangle with him! I saw him knock that tree trunk out of that tytan's hand like it was nothing but a piece of straw! And I'm worried about my father. The guvnor's not well. I'm not sure he can make this crazy trip."

"We don't have to tangle with Haplo! All right, then we'll just go wherever he takes us! My bet is he's not going to be all-fired hot to chase off to the stars."

"I don't know. Look, maybe we won't have to go anywhere. Maybe our army can stop them!"

"Yeah, and maybe I'll sprout wings and fly up to the stars myself!"

Paithan cast the human a bitter, angry glance and stalked off, moving down to the end of the porch. Standing by himself, he pulled a flower from a hibiscus bush and began ripping the petals apart, moodily tossing them into the yard. Roland, intent on his argument, started to go after him. Rega caught hold of her brother's arm.

"Let him alone for a little while."

"Bah, he's talking nonsense-"

"Roland, don't you understand? He has to leave all this behind! That's what's bothering him."

"Leave what? A house?"

"His life."

"You and I didn't have much trouble doing that."

"That's because we've always made up our lives as we went along," said Rega, her face darkening. "But I can remember when we left home, the house where we'd been born."

"What a dump!" Roland muttered.

"Not to us. We didn't know any better. I remember that time, the time Mother didn't come home." Rega drew near her brother, rested her cheek on his arm. "We waited ... how long?"

"A cycle or two." Roland shrugged.

"And there was no food and no money. And you kept making me laugh, so I wouldn't be frightened." Rega twined her hand in her brother's, held it fast. "Then you said, 'Well, Sis, it's a big world out there and we're not seeing any of it cooped up inside this hovel.' We left then and there. Walked out of the house and into the road and followed it where it led us. But I remember one thing, Roland. I remember you stopping there, on the path, and turning around to look back at the house. And I remember that, when you came back to me, there were tears-"

"I was a kid, then. Paithan's an adult. Or passes for one. Yeah, all right. I won't bother him. But I'm getting on board that ship whether he does or not. And what are you going to do if he decides to stay behind?"

Roland walked away. Rega remained standing near the window, her troubled gaze on Paithan. Behind her, inside the house, the hand slipped from the curtain, letting the lacy fabric fall gently, softly back in place.

"When do we go?" Lenthan asked the old man eagerly. "Now? I just have to get a few things to pack ..."

"Now?" Zifnab looked alarmed. "Oh, no, not now. Not time yet. Got to get everyone rounded up. We've got time, you see. Not much, but some."

"Look, old man," said Roland, breaking in on the discussion. "Are you sure this Haplo's going to go along with your plan?"

"Why, yes, of course!" stated Zifnab confidently.

Eyes narrowing, Roland gazed at him.

"Well," the old man faltered, "maybe not right at first."

"Uh, huh." Roland nodded, lips tightening.

"In fact," Zifnab appeared more uncomfortable, "he doesn't really want us along at all. We may ... er ... sort of have to sneak on board."

"Sneak on board."

"But leave that to me!" the old man said, nodding his head wisely. "I'll give you the signal. Let's see." He mulled it over in his mind. "When the dog barks! That's the signal. Did you hear that everyone!" Zifnab raised his voice querulously. "When the dog barks! That's when we board the ship!"

A dog barked.

"Now?" said Lenthan, nearly leaping out of his shoes.

"Not now!" Zifnab appeared highly put out. "What's the meaning of this? It's not time!"

The dog came dashing around the side of the house. Running up to Zifnab, it caught hold of the old man's robes in its teeth, and began to tug.

"Stop that! You're tearing out the hem. Let go!" The animal growled and pulled harder, its eyes fixed on the old man.

"Great Nebuchadnezzar! Why didn't you say so in the first place? We've got to go! Haplo's in trouble. Needs our help!"

The dog let loose of the old man's robes, raced away, heading in the direction of the jungle. Gathering his skirts, hiking them up above his bare, bony ankles, the old wizard ran off after the animal.

The rest stood, staring, ill-at-ease, suddenly remembering what it was like to face the tytans.

"Hell, he's the only one knows how to fly that ship!" said Roland, and started off after the old man.

Rega raced after her brother. Paithan was about to follow when he heard a door slam. Turning, he saw Aleatha.

"I'm coming, too."

The elf stared. His sister was clad in his old clothes-leather pants, white linen tunic, and leather vest. The clothes didn't fit her, they were too tight. The pants strained to cover the rounded thighs, the seams seeming likely to split apart. The fabric of the shirt stretched taut over the firm, high breasts. So closely did everything fit, she might well have been naked. Paithan felt hot blood seep into his cheeks.

"Aleatha, get back in the house! This is serious-"

"I'm going. I'm going to see for myself." She cast him a lofty glance. "I'm going to make you eat those lies!"

His sister walked past him, striding purposefully after the others. She had bundled the beautiful hair up in a crude bun at the back of her neck. In her hand she carried a wooden walking stick, holding it awkwardly like a club, perhaps with some idea of using it for a weapon.

Paithan heaved a frustrated sigh. There would be no arguing with her, no reasoning. All her life she had done exactly as she pleased; she wasn't going to stop now. Catching up with her, he noticed, somewhat to his consternation, that Aleatha's gaze was fixed on the man running ahead of her, on the strong back and rippling muscles of Roland.

Left alone, Lenthan Quindiniar rubbed his hands, shook his head, and muttered, "Oh, dear. Oh, dear."

High above, standing in her office, Calandra glanced out her window, saw the procession straggling across the smooth lawn, hastening for the trees. In the distance, the trumpets were blowing wildly. Snorting, she turned to the figures in her books, noting, with a tight-lipped smile, that they were likely to beat last year's profit by a considerable margin.

CHAPTER 30.

TREETOPS, EQUILAN.

HAPLO REGAINED CONSCIOUSNESS TO FIND HIMSELF SURROUNDED-NOT BY.

tytans-but by everyone he'd met in this world, plus what appeared to be half the elven army. Groaning, he glanced at the dog.

"This is all your doing."

The dog wagged its tail, tongue lolling, grinning, relishing the praise, not realizing it wasn't. Haplo stared at those hovering above him. They stared back-their gazes suspicious, dubious, expectant. The old man, alone, regarded him with intense anxiety.

"Are ... are you all right?" asked the human woman-he couldn't remember her name. Her gaze went to his shoulder. Timidly, she reached out a hand. "Can we do ... anything!"

"Don't touch!" Haplo said, through clenched teeth.

The woman's hand darted back. Of course, that was an open invitation for the elf female to kneel down beside him. Sitting up painfully, he thrust her aside with his good hand.

"You!" he said, looking at Roland. "You've got to help me ... put this back!" Haplo indicated his dislocated shoulder, hanging at an odd angle from the rest of his body.

Roland nodded, crouched down on his knees. His hands moved to take off Haplo's shirt, the leather vest he wore over it. The Patryn caught hold of the human's hand in his own.

"Just set the shoulder."

"But the shirt's in the way-"

"Just the shoulder."

Roland looked into the man's eyes, looked hurriedly away. The human began to gently probe the injured area. More elves moved closer to watch; Paithan among them. He had been standing on the fringes of the group surrounding Haplo, conversing with another elf dressed in the torn and bloody remnants of what must have been an elegant dress uniform. Hearing Haplo's voice, the two elves broke off their conversation.

"Whatever's underneath that shirt of yours must be something special," said the elf woman. Aleatha. "Is it?"

Roland cast her a dark glance. "Don't you have somewhere else to go?"

"Sorry," she answered coolly, "I didn't understand what you said. I don't speak human."

Roland scowled. He'd been speaking elven. He tried to ignore her. It wasn't easy. She was leaning over Haplo, exposing the full curve of her round breasts.

For whose benefit, the Patryn wondered. He would have been amused if he hadn't been so angry at himself. Looking at Roland, Haplo thought that this time Aleatha might have met her match. The human was strictly business. The human's strong hands grasped Haplo's arm firmly.

'This is going to hurt."

"Yeah." Haplo's jaw ached from gritting his teeth. It didn't need to hurt. He could use the magic, activate the runes. But he was damn sick and tired of revealing his power to one-fourth the known universe! "Get on with it!"

"I think you should hurry," said the elf standing near Paithan. "We've beaten them back, but it's only for the time being, I'm afraid."

Roland glanced around. "I need one of you men to hold him-"

"I can do it," answered Aleatha.

"This is important," Roland snapped. "I don't need some female who's going to pass out-"

"I never faint ... without a good reason." Aleatha favored him with a sweet smile. "How's your cheek? Does it hurt?"

Roland grunted, keeping his eyes on his patient. "Hold him fast, brace him back against this tree so that he doesn't twist when I pop the bone in place."

Aleatha grasped hold of him, ignoring Haplo's protests.

"I don't need anyone to hold me!" He brushed aside the woman's hands. "Wait a minute, Roland. Not yet. Let me ask . - -" He twisted his head, trying to see the elf in the elegant uniform, interested in what he had said. "Beat them! What-How? ..."

Pain flashed through his arm, shoulder, down his back, up his head. Haplo sucked in a breath that caught and rattled in his throat.

"Can you move it now?" Roland sat back on his haunches, wiped sweat from his face.

The dog, whimpering, crept to Haplo's side and licked his wrist. Gingerly, biting his teeth against the agony, Haplo moved his arm in the shoulder socket.

"I should bandage it," protested Roland, seeing Haplo struggling to stand. "It could go back out again, real easy. Everything's all stretched inside."

"I'll be all right," Haplo said, holding his injured shoulder, fighting back the temptation to use the runes, complete the healing. When he was alone ... and that would be soon, if all went well! Alone and away from this place! He leaned back against the tree trunk, closed his eyes, hoping the man and the elf woman would take the hint and leave him to himself. He heard footsteps walking away, he didn't care where. Paithan and the elflord had resumed their conversation.

"... scouts reported that conventional weapons had no effect on them. The humans' defeat in Thillia made that obvious. Humans using our magical weapons proved somewhat more effective, but were eventually beaten. That's to be expected. They can use the magic that is in the weapon, but they can't enhance it, as we can. Not that enhancing helped us much. Our own wizards were completely at a loss. We threw everything we had at them and only one proved successful."

"The dracos, my lord?" said Paithan.

"Yes, the dracos."

What the devil was a draco? Haplo opened his eyes, peered through half-closed lids. The elflord held one in his hands, apparently. Both he and Paithan were studying it intently. So did Haplo.

The draco was similar in appearance to a railbow, except that it was considerably larger. The projectiles it fired were carved out of wood, fashioned to resemble small dragons.

"It's effectiveness doesn't appear to be in the wounds the draco inflicts. Most didn't get close enough to the tytans to inflict any," the lord added ruefully. "It's -the look of the draco itself that frightens them. Whenever we loose the dracos, the monsters don't try to fight. They simply turn and run!" The elflord glared at the weapon in frustration, shaking it slightly. "I wish I knew what it was about this particular weapon that frightens them off! Maybe we could defeat them!"

Haplo stared at the draco, eyes narrowed. He knew why! He presumed that when it was fired at the enemy, it came to life-elven weapons sometimes operated that way. It would appear to the tytans' senses as if they were being attacked by a small dragon. He recalled the sensation of overwhelming terror emanating from the tytan when the dragon had appeared in the glade. So, the dragons could conceivably be used to control the monsters.

My lord will find that most interesting, thought Haplo, smiling quietly and rubbing his shoulder.

A nudge at his belt drew his attention. Looking down, he saw the dwarf, Blackbeard or Drugar or whatever he was called. How long has he been standing there? Haplo hadn't noticed, and he cursed himself for not noticing. One tended to forget the dwarf and, from the look in the dark eyes, that tendency could be fatal.

"You speak my language." It wasn't a question. Drugar already knew the answer. Haplo wondered briefly, how?

"Yes." The Patryn didn't think it necessary to lie.

"What are they saying?" Drugar nodded a shaggy head at Paithan and the elflord. "I speak human, but not elven."