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dead. At that instant the most minor fragment of Ratness could have slid from Gaheris to his daughter.”
    Honey Dream didn’t like that explanation. None of theother capture spells had malfunctioned in that way. Why should this one have done so? She knew her father suspected that Flying Claw had been lax in some way. Righteous Drum did not especially care for Flying Claw—surely a father’s petty jealousy, for until Flying Claw had entered their circle of associates, Honey Dream had honored no man other than her father.
    When Righteous Drum had refused to take her warnings seriously, Honey Dream had tried to talk to Waking Lizard. That annoying old man had only laughed and waggled his beard at her.
    “Envious, Snake of my heart? Beware strong emotions. They cloud the judgment.”
    When she had protested that there was nothing in Brenda Morris for Honey Dream to envy, Waking Lizard had laughed even harder.
    Honey Dream had turned on her heel and stalked away. After all, why should she care about a cowardly Monkey’s opinion? Waking Lizard only knew Brenda Morris as one of those who had saved him when he had fled to this world and collapsed covered in cuts and bruises. No doubt gratitude clouded his judgment—so who was
he
to talk about taking care to guard against strong emotions?
    Honey Dream hadn’t tried to discuss the matter with Flying Claw. He still hadn’t forgiven her for expecting him to accede to her plan to retake the Rat’s memory from Brenda Morris. He seemed to feel it was a slight on his honor.
    Demons take his honor! What sort of honor could a babysitter claim?
    Abandoned by her allies, her wisdom eschewed—even though the Snake was only second to the Dragon in offering wise counsel—Honey Dream resolved that she would solve the Brenda Morris puzzle herself.
    She liked the idea. Once she’d shown that Brenda Morris was in some way corrupt, the girl would be sent away.
    Yes. Honey Dream smiled softly to herself. Let the othersfuss over history. She would act as a Snake should and set her powers to root out that nasty sneaking little Ratling.
    “Honey Dream!” Righteous Drum snapped.
    Honey Dream realized with a quickly hidden blush that he had spoke to her at least twice.
    “I’m sorry, Father,” she said meekly. “My thoughts wandered.”
    “No doubt. Attend, would you? These matters apply to you as well. We were speaking of the obstacles that face our return.”
    “Crossing the guardian domains?” Honey Dream said, dredging up a fragment of partially heard conversation.
    Des gave Honey Dream a sympathetic smile that burned, if possible, more harshly than had her father’s reprimand.
    “That’s right,” Des said, “those regions that enable us to touch—although there must be a better word than ‘touch’—various planes of existence.”
    Honey Dream knew why Des had clarified. His command of the form of Chinese spoken in the Lands was good, but far from perfect. Equally, translation spells were fine for simpler ideas, but often bungled theoretical concerns.
    Righteous Drum nodded. “The footings of the bridge we used to get here were not only in the Lands and here, but between, in those interstitial areas.”
    “How did you manage that?” Des asked.
    “Essentially, we contracted with denizens of those areas and employed them to set our footings. The last footing—the one that was wholly in this world—was the most difficult, but we managed to create it by invoking a dragon who belonged to this world as well as to one of the interstitial zones.”
    “So if we choose to use a bridge to return, we’ll need to do the same in reverse?” Des asked.
    Flying Claw shook his head. “It will not be that simple, for now the four of us are barred from the Lands as surely asyour ancestors—and by extension yourselves—are. Creatures like that dragon would not make pacts with us.”
    He motioned toward the stump of his missing arm. “Nor do I have the power to compel them as once I