"Sorry," Martin said. "We can't help you there. I suppose the best thing for you to do is to consult some licensed astrologer or thaumaturgist; he can tell you what to do. There are quite a few good magicians in this town—they all wind up here eventually—and one of them ought to be able to shoot you back where you belong."
"I don't put any stock in that humbug. I'm an astronomer."
"Not responsible for your superstitions. You asked my advice, and I gave it."
"Astrologers!" Hugh groaned. "Oh, my lord!"
"However," Martin continued, "you can stay here with us for the time being. If you're an enemy of Yero's, you're a friend of ours."
Hugh scratched his head. The mental picture of himself asking an astrologer for guidance did not please him.
"I suppose I'll have to make the best of this," he said finally. "Nothing like this ever happened to me before, or to anybody I've ever heard of, so I guess I'm more or less sane. Thanks for the lodging offer. Right now I'd like to go hunt up—ulp—a magician."
Bell smiled. "All right," he said, "if you get lost in the city, just ask around. They're friendly folk, and more of 'em than you think have been in your spot. Most of the shopkeepers know Bell's place. After you've wandered about a bit you'll get the layout better. Then we can discuss further plans."
Hugh wondered what kind of plans they were supposed to discuss, but he was too anxious to discover the nature of the place into which he had fallen to discuss the question further. Bell led him down a rather smelly hallway to another door, and in a moment he found himself surveying the street.