One by one, the remnant came down the ladder, the limper last of all. The four grouped at the bottom, glowering at Amdi.

Ravna and Jefri exchanged glances, and Jefri said, "Be careful, Amdi. Remember who that is."

"I ... I remember. I'm not going to force anything on him." Amdi started toward the far end of the stable, where the harness gear was hung. It was cozy, but with enough room for two packs to have a private chat. After a moment, Screwfloss followed suspiciously. The two disappeared behind the harness racks. There was the sound of quiet discussion. "I can't tell what they're saying," said Jefri. Half a minute passed and still no battle sounds. The loudest sounds in the stable were the kherhogs fidgeting in their stalls and Ritl hissing to herself.

It was getting noisy outside. Ravna recognized the wheezy music that announced entertainment events.

Screwfloss and Amdi broke off their rehearsing. Amdi hustled around the stable, getting everyone together, making sure the necessary props were all in a single wheelbarrow. Screwfloss moved close to the door. His smudged disguise had been wiped away-not that a disguise made sense this far from Woodcarver's Domain. Now his pelts were decorated with a black and white checkered pattern. He held Ritl on a leash. Screwfloss didn't look happy, but that might have been Ritl's fault. Ravna walked over to give the pack some encouragement. Screwfloss looked up at her and spoke the first Samnorsk she'd heard from him since the night that part of him died: "We make big laugh. You see." One of him gave her a gentle bump.

Outside, a pack thumped on the door and gobbled loudly.

"They're ready, guys!" said Amdi. "Ravna, please get on my general left." Jefri was already standing on the other side of the eightsome. "Don't worry. Don't worry. I'll give you plenty of cues. We'll be okay!" Wail.

The door was already sliding open, the music shifting to a fast tempo. Screwfloss lurched into the daylight, Ritl perforce accompanying him. Beyond the musicians (one or both of their guards were making all the wheeze), Ravna could see a well-spaced crowd, nothing like the mob of earlier in the day.

Screwfloss still had his limp, but now he was faking another limp on the other side of himself. The two of him who were holding the leash walked close together as if they were suffering from lateral hearing impairment. It was the gait he'd been practicing since he'd finished putting on the checkered makeup. Ritl might not be acting a part, but her dogged efforts to inconvenience her "master" were a perfect foil for Screwfloss' performance: the fool and the fool's pet. It was cruel medieval humor, and the crowd's laughter drowned out the music.

Then Amdi stepped out into the daylight, flanked by the two humans. The crowd's laughter faltered, and there were wondering hoots. The two guards walked forward, clearing the way. One of them was dragging the barrow like a small cart.

"Just stroll along after the guards," said Amdi. "The Innmaster told me these are paying customers, charged double to see us both here and then again for our performance."

The guards followed a flagstoned path leading to the inn. There were wagons parked everywhere, even near where the winch platform sat like a cockeyed gazebo in the roar and the mist of the waterfall.

More packs were watching from the portico of the inn, but now the guards swung wide around that building, leading both the performers and the high-paying customers on a long parade that ended at the largest amphitheater Ravna had yet seen on Tines World.

Amdi's troupe paused under awnings at the edge of the arena, hidden from the view of the crowd.

The Innmaster walked to the center of the arena. The flagstones were fitted in an intricate design, but here and there were dark splatter marks that were not part of the design. Ugh. Animal sacrifice?

The Innmaster was giving some sort of speech. That went on for only a few seconds before there were shouts from above, and a then a steady chanting from all sides. Amdi had a couple of heads in public view, but the rest of him was crouched down. "Hei! They're shouting 'We paid our money and we don't have to listen to you!'"

Out on the arena, the Innmaster tossed his heads in a disgusted gesture, and stomped off to his box in the grandstands.

"Does that mean we're on?" said Ravna.

The eightsome huddled down lower.

"Amdi?" said Jefri, cajoling from the pack's other side. "You've done fine so far. Go!"

"I, I, I haven't had enough time to plan. I-"

The crowd chanted louder and louder. A very rotten yam splashed across the awning, sending little splatters down on Screwfloss. He made a disgusted noise and lost his close hold on Ritl's leash. The singleton bounded into the open, her caution of earlier in the day forgotten. She ran in a wide arc, all the while gobbling loudly. She stopped, pranced about on her rear legs for a moment, then lost sight of the ground behind her collar/blinder and tipped over. She bounced up, still shouting. She was bragging about something, almost certainly nonsensical. But the eerie thing was how much she sounded like the Innmaster giving his spiel.

The crowd's chanting turned to laughter.

Ritl hesitated, nonplussed. She hopped back and forth, demanding serious attention. When the laughter just came louder, she charged the nearest of the tiered stands-and was hauled up short by Screwfloss' leash. She darted off to the side, pulling on the leather. Meanwhile, Ravna noticed Screwfloss' heads bobbing in surprised amusement. He slid a glance in Amdi's direction, and then-still out of sight of the audience-very deliberately dropped the leash.

In the arena, poor Ritl almost fell over again. Then she recovered and ran along the edge of the stands, trailing her very long leash.

Screwfloss bumbled out into public view, his members covered with that checkered design, limping on two sides. He chased after the singleton's leash, remarkably missing it again and again. Finally he did a four-way body flop on the stone flags, trapping the leather somewhere under himself. He rose, the leash grasped firmly in four pairs of jaws. He bowed triumphantly, and started making his own speech. But the fool's pet was not cooperating: Ritl ran round and round the foursome, faster and closer as the length of free leash diminished.

Finally, Screwfloss tripped on the leash. He staggered around, squawking indignation. The crowd thought this was still funnier. More rotten vegetables splattered down, but this was crude applause. One caught Screwfloss on a shoulder, splashing color across his checkered design. Ritl seemed to be laughing about this, but she had her own missiles to avoid, and without success.

Screwfloss dithered in apparent panic, then all of him turned toward where Amdi and company were hidden. Even Ravna could see the melodrama in his pose. His Tinish plea meant something like: "Master. Master! Come out!"

And so Amdi was forced into action. He gave a low, heartfelt wail ... and bounded into the arena.

The laughter changed to cheers, and the rain of rotten vegetables ebbed. Amdi was walking more proudly than Ravna had ever seen him, with the ones in the middle pointing their heads straight up. If this were a human, it would be a guy holding his arms up for the audience's acclaim.

Jefri slid across the space Amdi had vacated. He had a huge, wondering grin on his face.

"What's he saying?" asked Ravna.

"It's too fast for me. He's promising them things-"

Consider the local dialect differences, Amdi was probably talking too fast for much of his audience-but maybe that just added to the glamour. Amdi waved grandly to Screwfloss and Ritl. The two left the arena, still very much in character-though Ravna was convinced their behavior was only an act for one of them. Screwfloss slid under the awning and tied Ritl to one of the wood pillars. He was grinning and grumbling-and taking turns trying to swab the juice off his pelt. He glanced across at Ravna and Jefri and there was something wicked in his smile, something that seemed to say "your turn is next!"

"Jefri! Ravna!" Amdi's human voice spoke as he continued his showman gobbling. "I'm just about ready to invite you out. Jefri comes to me and Ravna stays back out of mindsound range. Okay?" It was essentially what they had discussed back in the stable.

"Okay!" Jefri shouted back.

But then the clouds briefly parted and Amdi was standing in late afternoon sunlight, his cloaks' beadwork aglitter, his painted footgear shining like real silver tines. Somewhere in the midst of him were the two members that didn't have fancy costumes, but Ravna couldn't see them.

Amdi glanced up at the sunlight, startled. Then: "Very good!" he boomed, now making a simultaneous translation. "I give you the wonders of the northern world, the creatures from beyond the sky, the creatures who can think without sound, who can think each by itself. I give you ... the two-legs!" Four of him jammed their heads straight up, and the other four swung around to point where Ravna and Jefri were hidden beneath the awnings. By golly, there was even a musical fanfare coming from the eight.

"Do you suppose that's our cue?" said Jefri.

"Unh," said Ravna, finally feeling stage fright herself.

They walked out from under the awnings, and stood at their full height, visible to all. Just as when they emerged from the stable, the audience fell nearly silent. Jefri and Ravna turned in opposite directions, raising their arms to show off their hands. Ravna was scanning the crowd, watching for yam throwers. These stands were similar to Woodcarver's meeting place at her old capital, but even larger. Each tier was built almost directly above the one below, and the "seating" was delimited mainly by quilted sound absorbers and premium boxes. Amdi's moment of sunlight was past and the grandstands were in deepening gloom. It was hard to say how many packs were up there; they were crammed together closer than she had ever seen. There were heads everywhere, almost all focused downwards, on the two humans.

And then she and Jefri were face to face again. She reached out, brushed his sleeve with her hand. "I never guessed we'd end up here."

Jef's tense expression broke into a smile. "And I'll bet you never guessed that my juggling was a survival skill." He caught her hand for an instant and then they parted, Ravna retreating to the edge of the arena.

Amdi surrounded Jefri, continuing his showman's spiel. He wasn't translating anymore, but Ravna recognized the chord "five-tentacle paws." He walked to the wheelbarrow that was set near center of the arena, and tossed three colored balls to Jefri.

Jefri began cautiously, with just the three balls in a simple up and across. Then he launched them higher and higher, brought them down low, bounced the cycle of tosses off the ground. Amdi threw him a fourth ball. That had worked well enough when they were practicing in the stable-but now Jefri lost control. It took him several tries to keep all four in the air. Ravna looked across the stands. Still no rotten yams, and the storm of clicking sounds was applause. To these packs, the impressive thing was that this monstrous, teetering singleton could juggle anything at all.

The most popular part of Jefri's act was a bit of luck right at the end: A persistently rowdy pack in the second tier tossed a single yam down at Jefri. Jefri snagged it without getting splattered-and now he was juggling five!

"Toss it back," said Amdi, and shouted some kind of warning into the stands. Jefri brought the other balls down to earth, then stood eyeing the stands. No pack could have seen much in the beclouded twilight, but after a moment, Jefri stepped back and threw a high, slow lob-that plinked exactly the member of the pack who had tossed it.

Ravna held her breath. She had no idea what such an insult might mean to these creatures. But everyone was laughing. The fellow looked around, even its own heads bobbing with amusement. It had other veggies, and after a few tries-and a sturdier yam-the pack and the two-legs were playing catch.

Before there could be more audience participation, the Magnificent Amdi waved Jefri out of the arena-and gestured to Ravna. Her show business debut was at hand.

Alas, the knot-tying made a limp finale. Even with the heavy ropes the Innmaster supplied, there wasn't much for the audience to see, especially in the fading light. On the other hand, it didn't challenge her sense of balance-and no one tossed rotten yams at her. As she held up her latest creation, she looked across the stands. The applause wasn't wild, but she sensed a kind of somber speculation looking back at her. Perhaps she had not proved her super-singleton intelligence, but she had demonstrated that, for close work, a two-legs was defter than any full-bodied pack.

In any case, her act did not go on as long as Jefri's. Amdi began to wind things down, waving at Screwfloss to do one more comedy go-around. But as the remnant untied Ritl, the Innmaster came strolling out from his private box in the grandstands. His gobbling carried liquid overtones. He was asking for something, all very politely. Whatever he was saying met with loud approval from the audience.

Amdi dithered in surprise. Jefri was walking out onto the arena.

"What? What?" said Ravna.

Jefri gave her an odd smile. "I think our host wants permission for a select few of the audience to come down and ... um ... pet us."

Amdi had turned his attention to Ravna and Jefri, and for the first time his posture slumped out of magnificence. "That's exactly right. None of these packs have met humans before; if even a few are hostile ... what do you want to do?" Now all of him was looking at Ravna. And so was Jefri.

"I-" she looked up at the crowd. At this moment the vast majority were actively friendly. And we may need that tomorrow, when we try to leave. It was the story of her life on this world, making scary near-term bets. "Tell them 'yes,' Amdi."

"Okay." Amdi boomed his agreement, for a change speaking very slowly and simply. Then to Ravna and Jefri he said, "I told them only one at a time. The Innmaster's guards will stay near enough to make sure no one plays rough."

The packs in the first tier surged onto the field, maneuvering for the privilege of a close encounter with the zombies. The Innmaster set his guards to regulating the customers' approach-incidentally collecting still more coinage.

Amdi arranged himself generally behind the two humans while Screwfloss brought Ritl out and settled on Ravna's right. Ritl blabbered away self-importantly-but she toned it down when the remnant drew her near and began snapping at her.

The first of the "select few" of customers had gotten past the guards. The fivesome approached at an enthusiastic trot, then slowed, even backed up a little. All five of its heads were craned upwards, intimidated by Jefri's height. The customer right behind squawked at the delay-but it didn't try to circle around.

Jefri went to one knee and extended a hand, gesturing the pack forward.

Amdi shifted nervously. "This isn't the Innmaster; you don't have to take chances."

"It's okay, Amdi. This is just like our first expedition to the Long Lakes." Jef's body language was relaxed enough, but his voice was tense.

The five spent almost a minute variously inspecting Jef's clothing, mouthing his fingers with the soft tips of its own muzzles, and chatting with Amdi. "He complimented me on how well I've trained you, Jef," Amdi reported, as he passed the customer on to Ravna.

Some of the strangers were like that first one. Others mugged around for friends who lurked at a distance, as if to say "Look at me, up close to a monster!" Many tried to talk to Jefri and Amdi, echoing the humans' own words and watching for a response.

As twilight deepened, fire circles were lit at the corners of the arena. The flames climbed bright and high-adequate light even for Tines. And the customers kept coming. A few of them even took time to compliment Screwfloss on his act. Ravna wondered if the Steel inside had ever been the object of honest praise; in any case, the remnant seemed pleased. Ritl didn't know quite what to make of the chitchat, but she clearly considered herself a co-equal entity in the receiving line.

And there were a few, a very few, who came close to doing what Amdi had been worried about. One pack jostled Jefri. When Amdi complained, the creature seemed to apologize, easing past Amdi to get close to Ravna. The pack was seven, but scrawny and misshapen. Put some checkered makeup on this fellow and it could play a mean version of Screwfloss' character. It swirled close around her, all yellowish eyes and Tinish bad breath. Amdi was watching it closely and he translated the creature's gobbling: "He's saying to everybody that even up close, you are making no mindsound." When Ravna remained silent, it squealed something that might have meant "alive" (or "not alive")-and slammed into her knees.

Ravna fell, but before the creature could do anything more, Jef and Amdi jumped in on her left and Screwfloss on her right, all grabbing at the stranger. For a moment, bodies were flying in all directions. Ravna struggled back to her feet. The attacker was scattered, out of easy thinking range of itself. Its members looked around dazedly, then skedaddled to the edge of the arena, ran back together, and disappeared through one of the openings between the stands.

"That's it!" shouted Jefri. "Time to close down!" He reached out to Ravna and said more softly, "You okay?"

"Yes, I-" She hadn't been hurt at all, just reminded of the risks.

Amdi was talking over the crowd, at the Innmaster. That worthy was standing near his money collectors. Amdi's words sent him into a frantic dance. The crowd of packs started protesting, too. Nightmare visions came to Ravna's mind.

Amdi reported, "The Innmaster is promising us the sun and the moon, if we'll just stay in place a little longer."

"We've got to stay," said Ravna.

Amdi raised four of his heads high, and gobbled loudly across all the voices. "I'm repeating what the Innmaster is promising us," he said. "I'm saying we'd love to cooperate, but we want everyone to make sure that all promises get kept."

The Innmaster was bobbing heads in agreement. Ravna could see the reason for his enthusiasm: The panniers on his guard packs were swinging heavy with the loot. This was jackpot night for the guy.

Jefri was nodding too, but not with enthusiasm. "Okay, you're right; we've got to see this through." He returned to the pack he'd been chatting with right before the blowup. Interactions were strained for a few moments, but now in fact everyone was watching for troublemakers. The flow of customers and cash resumed.

Afterwards, Ravna wasn't clear how late into the night they stayed. The packs just kept coming. She noticed an occasional pack give her an aggressive stare, but none of them misbehaved. As for the rest ... she came to see why Johanna and Jefri and the other explorer kids had loved their dangerous jaunts beyond the Domain. Most Tinish strangers, once they got over their initial unease with humans, seemed to revel in their ability to get close, to deal with apparently intelligent singletons. As the evening progressed, and the fires were renewed and renewed, more of the packs were trying to echo talk with her and Jefri. Some packs, who had been through the line and saw that they would not make it back for a second turn, hung around at the edge of the arena, shouting suggestions at the customers who were closer.

Here might be enemies and monsters, but also potential Best Friends for future generations of the Children.

CHAPTER 29.

Things were very different after their show at Winch Bottom. They had a real circus wagon now (the one lost to default by its unfortunate original owners). The wagon had a passenger cabin and was so large that it really needed its four-kherhog team. Under the watchful eyes of customers who had stayed overnight, the Innmaster had also given them food supplies and crossbows. Perhaps as important, he'd given them an official-looking letter, advising that as Tycoon's manager at Winch Bottom, he and Tycoon were pledging safe conduct to these marvelous entertainers. That, combined with the Tycoonist badge that Amdi had found in Chitiratifor's gear, could count for a lot. Ravna hoped the fellow wouldn't be in too much trouble when real word from Tycoon finally reached these parts.

When they left Winch Bottom, there were at least a dozen packs who wanted to sign on with the circus, to guard them and guide them in the journey northwards. Chances were good they were all sincere, but Amdi turned them down. The more famous they became, the easier it would be for Tycoon and Vendacious and Nevil to find them. The moment word of the search overtook them, even honest packs might turn them in.

So when they departed Winch Bottom, only a few fans had followed, furtively straggling along some hundred meters behind the circus wagon.

Amdi passed up the first villages to the north, picking his way around them on paths he'd discovered on the maps. As they rolled past each successive village, they lost more of their retinue. These were ordinary packs of the Wild Principates, peasants and small landowners. No matter how intrigued they might be by the two-legs, they did not have the leisure time of fans in a more technological society.

On the third day, Screwfloss scouted all around and reported they had lost the last of their followers. Now it was time to change the course from what Amdi had advertised back at Winch Bottom. "There are plenty of alternative paths on these maps," said Amdi. "The problem is, whichever we choose, we're going to run out of food before we get back to the Domain." They'd have to engage in some skilled woodcraft ... or stage more shows.

When this stark choice was presented to Amdi, he'd dithered a moment and then a shy smile spread across him. "I-I guess I could take another turn at being Magnificent."

Over the next few days they looked at each little village they came across, with Screwfloss scouting for threats and friendliness, balancing the risks with the current state of their supplies. Most places they still avoided, but eventually they performed three times, once indoors at a farmers' meeting hall and twice in open fields under cloudy skies. The days stayed mild, with cold rains and muddy roads, but altogether more pleasant than what had gone before.

Their shows improved. Ravna's own act was still a loser, but she had tweaked their lighting system into being a major part of the event. Even Ritl seemed to enjoy performing; she tried to upstage Amdi in more and more hilarious ways. Amdi was now completely fluent in the local dialect. His presentation had become positively polished, except that he seemed genuinely to be angered by the singleton's antics. The high point of the show was always the petting zoo routine, and they had that worked out so well that it felt almost safe. Already, their fame had gotten ahead of them: when they tried to bypass a town, there were often packs on the side paths, begging them to stop and perform.

"These lands are just too civilized," Jefri said one evening, after they had set up camp for the night. Moonlight trickled down through the trees, but hopefully they were out of sight of the primitive optics on the orbiter. "Once upon a time, they really were wild, too dangerous for most explorers. Now there's trade everywhere. The arena at Winch Bottom was huge, and new."

"And the towns are growing," said Amdi. "They're even bigger than what's on Nevil's maps." Those maps might have been honest information for Chitiratifor, but they were already out-of-date.

"Yeah," said Jefri. "Tycoon's finished goods are everywhere. I'm getting sick of seeing that Pack of Packs logo. It'll be a miracle if we get to the Domain before news of us gets back to him."

Ravna gave a gloomy nod. "And I'll bet Nevil is waiting ahead, probably with Eyes Above 2."

Amdi was humming, which was often the sound of good ideas being born: "But Woodcarver will be there, too," he said. It was almost a question. Both Jef and Amdi were getting more and more afraid for Johanna and Pilgrim. And what about Woodcarver?

Ravna thought back to that strange final conversation she'd had with Woodcarver. "I'll bet she's still running the Domain, Amdi. And she's not fooled by Nevil."