“You couldn’t wake a mouse like that, Merlin,” I commented, yawning myself out of a wonderful dream, something to do with floating on a cloud over the massive volcano Olympus Mons. She was looking at me curiously, and skittered back, pulling her hand away. “You have the oddest look on your face, Merlin,” I said. She tried to speak, but could only stutter out, “I t-t-tried it.” “Tried what?” “This morning, th-th-thinking to make use of my time, I w-w-woke early and sh-shaved a bit of the harlow tusk and ground it and put it in my tea...” I held my laughter in check. “Y-Y-You’re the only other female in camp!” she cried in despair. She was exhibiting all the effects of lust, and her eyes darted to the many males walking to and fro. “What am I to do, Ransom! What am I to do?” “Let us hope that the effects are short term, Merlin,”
