Steve laughed curtly.
"Oh, is that all? We do."
"We ... do?"
"Of course. Our destination is—Fautnox."
Rodrik gestured impatiently.
"Yes. That I know, Brother. But according to such rumors as we have heard, Fautnox lies more to the east of the road we travel—"
It was the "Brother" that did it. For three days now Steve Duane had been pondering which course it would be best to pursue as regarded Rodrik of Mish-kin. Now, hearing again that fraternal salutation on the other's lips, he decided.
For the sake of the dream he had within him, he could endure labor and pain, trouble and hardship. But one thing he could not stand was hearing himself coupled in traitorous Brotherhood with such humans as this standing before him. He grinned, and dropped his pretenses.
"That," he said grimly, "is what you think."
"Yes. Of course. Then should we not change—" In that instant, Rodrik understood. His eyes opened wide. "You mean—you know where Fautnox is?"