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you trying to tell us that this is your way of showing friendship?"
Baldrup gazed longingly at the club Samm had gently but firmly removed from
the drover's grasp. "How else does one greet good friends?"
"And this is how everyone here acknowledges guests? Including those 'friendly'
folk you spoke of who inhabit the town we're about to enter?" When both
blithely smiling drovers nodded in unison, Mamakitty hastily called for her
companions to gather around her. "Would you excuse us for a moment?"
Still straightening their rumpled clothing, the disconcerted travelers stepped
off to one side to caucus quietly.
"This doesn't make any sense." Taj was both worried and bemused.
"Sure it does," argued Cezer. "They're crazy. This is a crazy place, so what
more normal than for it to be inhabited by crazy people?" His whiskers would
have been twitching nervously had he possessed any.
"They're not crazy." Cocoa spoke softly but with the feeling that she was
right. "They just have different customs."
"Different is too fine a word for it," commented Oskar.
"We're going to have to be very careful here. The more someone 'likes' you,
the harder the hit they may expect you to absorb." He glanced back at the two
drovers, who stood waiting patiently for their new acquaintances to finish
conferencing. "I mean, a friendly nip is one thing, but that wasn't exactly a
pat on the head."
"He's right," agreed Mamakitty. "And we may very well be expected to hit back,
lest we be accused of being standoffish. Or worse, deliberately unfriendly."
Rubbing his elbow where he had landed when everyone had tumbled off the wagon,
Cezer wore a grim expression. "That I can do. In fact," he added warningly,
"if we run into any more of this local 'friendliness,' they may find me the
most polite individual ever to visit this town."
Oskar whacked him on the shoulder, and the other man whirled sharply to
confront him. "Just being friendly, old friend. If we're going to get through
this and find the white light we need to take back with us, we're going to
have to learn how to adapt to local customs."
"How about I adapt your nose?" Cezer growled.
Mamakitty took a firm grip on his arm. "Not now. Let's thank these two for
their offer of assistance, tell them we'll be delighted to follow them into
the city, and see if they can supply information as well as guidance. And
remember: be courteous."
"With pleasure." Allowing her to hold on to his arm, Cezer ground one fist
into the open palm of his other hand. "Just tell me when you want me to be
friendly, and to whom."
"I will," she assured him, "and you need to trim your claws--um, nails."
Oskar accompanied Cocoa on the walk back to the wagon. "It makes sense, I
suppose. In a red country, what more natural than that everyone should be
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red-tempered?"
"I fear there will be many times before this search is over when we're going
to have to suppress our natural instincts and think and act the reverse of
what is normal." Her musk was subtle and distinctive in his nostrils. With a
start, he realized that the drovers and their dray animals had hardly any body
odor at all.
"Easy to say," Oskar commented. "But which 'natural instincts' do we repress?
Mine are canine, yours are feline, and Taj and Samm's instincts are completely
different from either. Do we repress those instincts, or those of humans, or
both?"
It not being any easy question, she had no ready reply for him. "Well, for a
start, try to remember not to pee on anybody's leg."
He responded with a sour smile. "Thanks, Cocoa. I think I could have figured
that one out for myself." Silently, he started looking for a bush to complete
the business that had begun to preoccupy another part of his thoughts.
"It's very nice to meet you, and we'll be glad to follow you into this
Pyackill, and to listen to any other advice you have to impart." Mamakitty
nodded at Samm. "Give him back his cudgel."
Baldrup accepted the club with a thankful nod, hefted it briefly, and
considered its proximity to Mamakitty's head.
"Don't do it," she warned him as she took a step back. "I'll scratch your eyes
out."
The drover looked hurt. "Oh, well. If you want to be formal about things."
Picking up the knotted ends of the net-like reins, he pursed rubbery lips and
blew a sharp whistle. The low-slung, lumbering dray animals lurched forward,
and the wagon began to move again. Not wishing to become too painfully chummy
with their newfound friends, the travelers were careful to keep close to the
vehicle but well beyond arm's length.
Pyackill was more city than town. It reminded Mamakitty and Oskar of the visit
they had once made to Zelevin in the company of Master Evyndd. There were more
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