The women complained — very naturally — yet it was as obvious to them as to us that we had to keep moving and find a way to escape from the Coup Blag.Old Deb-Lu’s turban was straight upon his head and he did not need to lift a hand to prevent the absurd headgear from toppling. His face looked grave.Faintly, no louder than a distant whisper of wind, the sound of rushing water filtered through that gap of dark and evil aspect.“The women need to rest up again, Jak,” called Nath. He marched at the back, shepherding the females along much as a ponsho-trag shepherds along his flock of woolly ponshos. He carried two of them, more or less comfortably, and it was clear to Seg and me that he was forming an attachment.Just how wise or foolish that was down here in this magical maze remained to be seen.“I don’t like the look of old Deb-Lu,” said Seg, in a quiet voice.“There’s trouble up ahead, that’s for sure.”“Better to have everyone rest up first, then.”“Aye.” I called back to Nath.
