The rising sun did nothing to add to the beauty of the countryside. What dew had condensed overnight evaporated swiftly. The temperature ascended with the white-hot orb, until Tolk was panting out every breath.

"Water water water water water!"

"If you didn't carry on talking, you wouldn't be getting dried out!" Pologne snarled. The Pervect seemed to have less patience with Tolk than either of her companions.

"Take it easy on him, ma'am," Bee said. "If you offered him a drink, he wouldn't keep sayin' it, would he? Here, fella." He offered the doglike being a bulging water skin. Tolk beamed at him. He squeezed the skin so a spray of water leaped up, and lapped at it with his long, pink tongue. His enthusiastic method of drinking sprayed us all with drops, which felt good in the increasing heat.

"Thanks thanks thanks," Tolk said. "That was great!"

"Don't mention it."

Bee slung the skin over his shoulder.

"Hey!" he cried.

The water container seemed to throw itself onto the ground. Bee bent to retrieve it, but it scooted away from his grasp. He hustled after it.

"Hey, come back here!"

I smiled quietly to myself. The fun was beginning.

The lanky soldier opened up his stride to follow the fleeing bag, but it kept just out of his reach.

"Hey, I've heard of running water, but this is ridiculous!" Melvine chortled.

"Offer to share!" I shouted after Bee. The young man spun and snapped to attention.

"What, sir?"

"I said—oh, never mind." Behind him, the water skin seemed to melt into the ground. Bee turned around and searched. The skin, and the hole into which it had fallen, had both disappeared.

Bee turned back to me, his earnest face puzzled. "Where'd it go, sir?"

"I'm afraid you were just hit by one of the local hazards, Bee," I said apologetically. "The locals really know how to make merchandise move. You can probably tell that water's pretty scarce here. Your water bottle represented a good deal of wealth to someone who lives on Sear. They prize shade and water above anything else."

"What locals?" Jinetta asked. "I don't see any signs of habitation."

"They live beneath the surface," I said, tapping the ground with my foot.

"They could be dangerous!" Freezia exclaimed. "They could overpower us! They could," she lowered her voice, looking around in fear, "kill us and eat us."

"I don't think so," I said reassuringly. "They're only about an inch high."

"What?" she shrieked.

"See," Melvine hooted. "You wet your pants for nothing."

"Shut up, you carnival prize!"

I marched onward. The students followed me, still sniping at one another. How was I going to get through six weeks of this?

I swatted at the back of my neck. A fly had been circling me for some time, evidently deciding where it would be best to plunge in its stinger. Gingerly I prodded the welt.

"Everybody with sensitive skin might use a little of their magik for pest repellent," I suggested. "This hurts a lot."

"I can fix it, Skeeve," Tolk said eagerly. He bounded over and touched the sore spot. The pain died away instantly.

"That's great, Tolk," I said. "I appreciate it. But don't forget to protect yourself."

He frowned and cocked his head to one side. "Not sure how how how."

"Picture a suit made of magikal force that fits your body closely but doesn't cut off your air supply," I said. "Don't use too much power."

"I don't think I can do that," Bee admitted. "I never tried anything like that before."

"What do you know how to do?" I asked.

"I only know a few spells," he admitted. "I'm not up there like these ladies," he indicated the Pervects, "who've had the benefit of advanced education."

The Pervects turned their noses up at him. Bee looked downtrodden.

"Well, we can build on what you have learned," I said encouragingly. "What are they?"

"Well, I can do Dispell," Bee began. A dust-devil spun in our direction. I recognized it as one of the Sear natives. It whisked up Pologne's leg, heading for her color-coordinated backpack.

"Aaagh!" she cried, batting at her tiny assailant. "Get it off me!"

"Bee, use it now!" I said.

Bee pointed at the miniature whirlwind. "Dispell!"

The gray cone died away, leaving a bright red node about the size of my thumbnail. The little creature dropped off Pologne's leg and promptly dug itself into the sand.

"Ugh!" she said, stomping on the place where the Sear disappeared. "Disgusting!"

"That's very useful," I told Bee. "It's a good defense as well as being able to undo mistakes you make. What's next?"

"Well. Datspell."

Melvine chortled. "Why am I not surprised? And what's that do? Put the spell you just took off back on?"

"Nossir," Bee said, hurt. "Well, it means I can disguise myself pretty good. Like this!"

Suddenly, the skinny frame of the former corporal was replaced by a familiar image. A male Klahd with a big, hulking frame, wide shoulders that tapered down to a surprisingly small waist, big hands that almost concealed the miniature crossbow in his hand. I felt a smile spread slowly on my face.

"That's Guido."

The image vanished, and Bee's narrow earnest face reappeared. "Yessir. Sergeant Swatter, we called him. I really admired him, sir."

"Stop calling me sir," I said. "Just Skeeve. Datspell's pretty good, too. What else can you do?"

"Well," Bee said, "just a few little things. But I practice them all the time. Spoo!" he exclaimed suddenly as we began the descent down a steep hill. He seemed to levitate over a rock in his path.

"That's pretty good," I said. "You know how to fly."

"Oh, no, s—I mean, Skeeve. That's just Cantrip. I learned that in the army. It helps a lot when you're on maneuvers over rough ground. A lot of the guys came in with sprained ankles and broken legs. Cantrip keeps me from falling over. 'Cept I gotta say 'spoo' to invoke it. It's 'oops' spelled backwards."

"How hokey!" Freezia exclaimed. Bee looked offended. I didn't blame him.

"Don't you use mnemonics in your magik?" I asked her innocently.

"Sure I do," she said. "But spoof She broke into giggles. "That's so silly!"

"If it works, then it's not silly. You'll see. Bee's going to teach us how to do it when we're back at the inn."

"Learn from a Klahd? Never!" Pologne declared.

I let the statement stand, and walked on in silence.

About four paces later, she spoke in a much smaller voice. "Of course, when I say Klahd, I don't mean you, Skeeve."

Chapter Seven

It took almost two hours to walk over the rough dry terrain to where we could draw from the force line. The hike back was worse. The sun had risen higher in the sky, and the glare was blinding. I was hot, and my feet felt like they had been pounded between two large flat rocks.

By the time we were back in my target area everyone was in a bad mood, including me. Everything Melvine said came out as a whine. The three Pervects sniped at one another verbally, but united to belittle the others. Tolk growled if any of us got too close to him. Bee still spoke politely, but clipped his words off sharply.

"It's hot, and I'm tired," Melvine complained. "Let's go back to Klahd and do this tomorrow. I promise to be more economical. C'mon, Skeeve, what do you say?" "Nope," I said. "This'll be fun. You'll see."

"Fun? This dimension is a drag!"

"Hey, you should go work for my cousin," Tolk sneered. "He's got the sullen-on-a-stick franchise for Lower Rangooza." "Meanie!" Melvine sniveled.

"Grow up!" Pologne said. "I'm sick of both of you. It's like traveling with my little brothers."