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accepted, and
the kids got used to each other faster, talking over and comparing various
foods. The gang definitely liked canned chili, especially with some of their
tart cheese crumbled over the top.
    The hard workouts continued, Warron adding a little trail
craft as well. Nan and Joe ended up so tired each night they almost fell asleep
over their dinners.
    Then one day they were down to making soup out of all the
leftovers when noises thumped outside the hideout.
    Everyone looked up as something thudded louder. Nan’s heart
began pounding warningly.
    Sarilda yelled, “They’re back!”
    “Finally,” Tarsen added.
    “Yo!” a voice called from up inside the tunnel.
    Three figures emerged, carrying bulky cloth sacks. The
leading two kids, a boy and a girl, were obviously brother and sister. Both had
thick manes of dark brown hair, dark eyes, and wide, laughing mouths in thin,
sharp faces. The boy was taller and obviously older, and whereas his mouth had
the quirks at the corners that Nan always associated with sarcasm and satire,
the girl’s expression was friendly and open.
    Behind them, moving more slowly, was another dark-haired
kid. This one wore his blue-black hair pulled back in a ponytail away from a
face with two cruel scars marking it. He walked with a twist that Nan found
painful to watch. She looked away, then forced herself to look back while his
eyes were not on her; she did not want him to see her reluctance. The problem
seemed to be one of his legs, which was stiff at the knee and turned slightly
at his ankle. Despite his long black tunic and the loose pants she could see he
was very thin.
    “Good luck?” Blackeye came forward to take the sacks from
him.
    The boy sank down onto one of the pillows, plainly
exhausted. “Very,” he said. “But we had to run for it.”
    “We were just ahead of a Lorjee pleasure-yacht,” said the
new girl. She added with a laugh, “And of course Mican had to go back and make
sure they were headed for the Lorjee outpost.”
    “And?” Warron spoke up, eyebrows slanting wickedly.
    “They were.” The boy with the scars looked around, and his
expression changed when he saw the Earth kids. “Newcomers. Not—”
    “Yes!” Tarsen yelped. “Hey, we almost forgot. Bron, meet Joe
and Nan, from a land called Earth .”
    “I’m Shor,” the new girl said happily, sitting down next to
Nan. “That’s my brother Mican.”
    The boy with the sardonic mouth made a gesture that could be
construed as a welcome, then asked, “So we’re going after the Falcon ?”
    “Not yet,” Blackeye said. “We need some practice. Tell me
about the run.”
    Mican did not hide his disappointment at Blackeye’s not
yet . He gave Nan and Joe considering looks, then he shrugged. “We were
chased in Fortanya. We stopped overnight in Parth, and raided the garrison
there. Nobody saw us. We nearly ran into those Lorjees, and had to tack around
the big rocks. Luckily they were busy eyeballing the waterfalls off the Rendan
Island cliffs.”
    “If they’d been chasing, we would have holed up in one of
the little coves beyond the big rocks.” Bron shrugged his thin shoulders. “A
lot of fog.”
    “Good.” Blackeye nodded. “Then day after tomorrow, we’ll
take our Visitors for a dry-run into Fortanya. Show them around.”
    “Dry-run? Can’t we have some fun with the warts?” Tarsen
asked, rubbing his hands.
    “Oh, let’s,” Sarilda chimed in, her eyes bright and excited.
“We haven’t had a good chase in weeks. And that nasty Nitre must think we’ve
bowed to his threats.”
    Warron snorted.
    Blackeye gave them a toothy smile. “If Commander Nitre
thinks we’ve scuttled, that’s his lookout. But we’ll see what’s going on.”
    Several kids gave a whoop of joy, and everyone began talking
at once. Nan listened in silence, gathering from their answers to Joe’s eager
questions that Todan’s guards in the city— “the warts”— were commanded by an
exceedingly cruel