byIt was only the dew-god making a monstrous noise off in the darkness, but Fahnes allowed his eyes to open and he halfway sat up. There was a shaded light over by Boles’ bunk, and Boles was fussily arranging his kit for a journey to the trading-center in the Lamphian hills. Food, canteens, and the trading-stuff, these things would be left at the untended mart in exchange for a new lot of llossa fiber, which on Earth was equal in exchange pound for pound with platinum.
llossaFahnes made an apologetic noise as Boles whirled at his movement. Boles snorted indignantly.
“It’s just one of them gods,” he said scornfully. “They make a racket like that before dawn every mornin’.”
Fahnes made himself grin sheepishly, as if half-awake. He knew about the dew-god. He had more brains than Boles, and
