“To the left,” said a familiar voice that definitely didn’t belong to a native with a weird tail. “Now higher… higher. Ah, now you got it. That’s the spot.”

“Where I am?” I said groggily, blinking in the dimness. Time had passed in a blur. I could not tell how much.

“In your cabin. Aboard the ship.”

I could hear engines running. The faint smoochy-sound of the lovercraft in motion. We were under way again.

“And whose back am I scratching?”

“Go ahead, insult me,” and I now recognized the voice as belonging to Commander-Artificer Nomlin.

“What… happened?”

She patted the pillows and held up one end of the sheet. “Three guesses. You breathed in a pound or two of sugar and collapsed, so they carried you here.”

“But… What are you doing here?” I asked, growing gradually aware, with rising worry, that we both were… un-clothed.

“You want a blow-by-blow account?” she asked.

“I don’t think I could handle… that… in my current condition.”

“OK, I came by to check on you, you told me you were having nightmares about being attacked by Sugarworms and begged me to stay with you… you announced that Sugarworms loved ladies’ clothing and took mine off me to save me from their attentions… then insisted on showing me a trick you could do that you felt certain Sugarworms couldn’t do.” She paused in her demmie run-on to take a much needed breath. “I guess you must think they reproduce by budding. Anyway, then you—”

“I don’t want to hear any more.”

“Too bad,” she said with an eye-catching shrug. “Would’ve made great reading in your diary on cold nights when you’re all alone.”

“Just tell me that we’re not looking for the Necronom icon anymore and that we haven’t spoken to any trees in the past hour.”

Trees? Yes, there had been talking trees. Some time between when I blanked out and came-to. Talking. Trees. Though I hope it was a dream.

“Not at all! At least not in the past hour. You mean you remember none of it?”

“I wasn’t myself.”

“Hm, yes, that’s what I liked most. A different you.”

I frowned. We’re on a mission, you know.”

“And you suppose I forget that? You don’t suppose we got what we came for? Now I know I’m insulted.”

“Then we acquired—”

“The help we need to find our destination. And yes, you owe me an apology.”

“I sincerely regret any offense I might have caused,” I murmured, reaching out to shake her hand as a show of good will…

…and I wound up shaking my pillow.

In my cabin.

My blissfully empty cabin.