"Looking for my glasses," Morwen replied. "Unfortunately, I don't seem to-Wait a minute." Carefully, she worked her hand free of the mud.

"There. Now all I have to do is clean them."

"Easier to say than done in this muck," Cimorene said. "Didn't you bring an extra pair?"

"Chaos broke my extra pair last week." Morwen squinted at the mud-covered glasses, then shrugged. Pinching a fold of material from her robe, she began wiping the lenses. "The replacements haven't been delivered yet."

"Well, I'm afraid I can't help. I slipped when we landed, and even my handkerchiefs are full of mud. Morwen, where are we? This doesn't look like the edge of a desert."

"No kidding," said Scorn.

"Ask Telemain," Morwen said, putting on her glasses. "He should have some idea where we were when he lost control." The lenses were still streaky, but at least she could see.

A worry line appeared between Cimorene's eyebrows, below the mud that smeared her forehead. "I don't know where Telemain is," she said. "I was hoping he was over here, with you."

Morwen looked around. Here and there, tall, thin trees shot upward from the omnipresent mud. High in the air, they suddenly sprouted a wide, dense mat of twisted branches. Long, fuzzy gray-green strips of moss dangled from the branches, shutting out most of the light, and patches of dirty white fog drifted among the trunks.

Between the fog and the shadows, it was hard to be sure of seeing anyone. Even Kazul seemed to melt into the gloom. Only Killer's vivid blue stood out against the muddy colors of the swamp.

"Is everyone else here?" Morwen said. Her stomach was already settling down, which was a relief. The last time this had happened, it had taken much longer.

Cimorene nodded.

"Then I'll look for Telemain. There's bound to be some residue from the transportation spell for me to trace. The rest of you stay together so I can find you again. If we split up in this mess, we're likely to lose someone permanently."

"I suppose that's best," Cimorene said, but she did not sound happy.

Morwen was not very happy about the arrangement, either, but she did not say anything more as Cimorene squelched back to Kazul. Then, with a resigned sigh, she reached into her left sleeve and pulled out a ball of red yarn and a shiny metal plate three inches across with a small hole near the rim. Focusing her attention on her most recent memories of Telemain's magic, she tied the yarn to the plate. She bent and breathed on the metal, clouding it over, then said quickly, "Green and growing; show me.

Swift and silent, show me.

Damp and dingy, show me.

Deep and shining; show me what I would see."

With her last words, she released the plate so that it hung free. It spun wildly on the end of the yarn, and she felt it tug lightly to the right, well away from the others. Carefully, she turned, letting the faint pull guide her.

It took considerable concentration to follow the spell while slogging through the cold, sticky mud.

"I thought something smelled different over this way," Scorn said.

Morwen spared a moment for a glance at the cat. "You might have told me."

"You were busy."

"True. Next time, tell me anyway." The tug was growing stronger.

Morwen dodged around a tree trunk and almost stepped on Telemain. He lay face up in the mud, his eyes closed and his skin an unhealthy grayish white. Morwen had to look twice to be sure that he was still breathing.

Stuffing her yarn and the metal plate back into her sleeve, Morwen shouted for Cimorene to come at once and bring the others. Then she crouched next to Telemain to see what she could do for him.

Unfortunately, what he needed most was to be warm, dry, and somewhere he could sleep in comfort.

He must have been even more tired than I thought he was, or the backshock wouldn't have acted him this badly, Morwen thought. He should have said something.

"Stubborn fool," she said aloud.

"This comes as a surprise?" Scorn said.

"Morwen, what-oh, my." Cimorene squished over as quickly as she could, followed by Killer and Kazul. Trouble, somewhat muddy and damp looking, was clinging with grim determination to a spot high on Kazul's back. The moment the dragon stopped moving, Trouble extended a rear leg and began washing it vigorously. Killer looked unusually pleased with himself, probably because floating six inches off the ground had kept him the only completely dry and unmuddy member of the group.

"What happened?" Kazul asked as Cimorene joined Morwen. "That was not one of the most enjoyable experiences I've ever had."

"I'm not completely sure." Morwen reached into her right sleeve and began fishing around. "I'm a witch, not a magician. But I think it's backshock from that transportation spell."

"Backshock?" said Killer.

"If you pull a rubber band too hard, it breaks and snaps your fingers," Cimorene explained. "The same sort of thing can happen when someone loses control of a spell, only it's usually more serious than stinging fingers."

"Oh." Killer looked at Morwen. "Rubber band?"

"Never mind," Morwen said. "Ah, there it is." She pulled her heavy-duty wool camping blanket out of her sleeve, glanced around for a dry spot to put it, and ended by draping it across Killer's back.

"Cimorene, we have to get Telemain out of this mud. Help me lift him onto Killer."

"What? Wait a minute!" said Killer, taking two hasty steps backward.

"I'm not supposed to do things like this. I'm a rabbit."

"You used to be," said Morwen. "Now you're a six-foot floating blue donkey. Hold still."

"But you'll get mud all over me!"

Trouble glanced up from his washing. "Good idea. Can I help?"

"If you do, you'll get muddy, too," Scorn said. She looked at Trouble.

"Muddier."

"The mud will get on my blanket," Morwen said. "And I can tell you already that Mendanbar is going to get a really enormous cleaning bill when this is all over."

"But-" "Don't argue," Kazul said to the donkey. "I'm feeling cross enough already, and my stomach is bothering me."

"The stomachache is a side effect of snapping the transportation spell," Morwen said. "The bad temper is probably from waking up too early.

Ready, Cimorene?"

Killer did argue, of course. It took nearly as long to convince him as it took to pry Telemain's unconscious body out of the mud, wrap him in Morwen's blanket, and hoist him onto the donkey's back.

"There," Cimorene panted, steadying Telemain with one hand.

"That's done."

"And it looks pretty useless to me," Scorn said. She had joined Trouble on top of Kazul and was watching the whole procedure with an expression of disapproval. "Now that you've got him there, what are you going to do with him?"

Killer shifted his feet in evident unease. "This is really uncomfortable.

Isn't there somewhere else you could put him?"

"He doesn't care much for riding on you, either," Morwen said.

"Don't worry, we'll try to keep it short. Kazul, can you see anything that looks like a way out of here?"

Stretching up to her full height, Kazul peered into the fog. "No.

The fog's getting thicker, and the trees all look the same."

"Hey, warn me before you do that," Trouble said reproachfully. "I almost fell off."

Kazul lowered her forelegs and glanced over her shoulder. "That can be arranged."

"It wouldn't matter," Scorn said to Trouble. "All that washing hasn't done much good. You still look like something the dog dragged in."

"You've got wings," Killer said to Kazul. "Why don't you fly up and look around?"

"Because there isn't enough room between the trees for a proper takeoff, because flying in a fog is dangerous, and because I probably couldn't find you again once I got up above the treetops," Kazul said.