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certain you didn't receive any?"
    Nate thought hard, as far back as he could remember. Finally, he shook his head. "No. Only Miss Lumpton got letters. And only once a month."
    "Hmmm," Aunt Phil said with a funny look in her eyes. She shook her head, as if clearing it, then changed the subject. "Nate, would you fish my compass out of my saddlebag there? I want to be sure we're on the right course."
    ***
    Once the sun rose, it didn't take long for the day to heat up. Luckily, they reached the oasis shortly after dawn. There
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    were a number of date palms and a small pool of water surrounded by rocks. Both camels completely ignored the commands to halt and marched straight over to the water. They lowered their heads and began drinking greedily.
    "I suppose they've earned it," Aunt Phil said. She reached down and patted her camel on the neck. Nate did the same, but Shabiib stopped drinking and turned around to give him a baleful stare. Afraid the camel would spit at him again, Nate stopped patting.
    "Suit yourself," he mumbled.
    His rucksack, looped over his saddle horn, began twitching as Greasle wriggled out. "Are we back at the plane yet?" Her small face fell as she looked around the oasis. "What's this place, then?"
    "Shh!" Nate hissed, looking around to see if Aunt Phil had heard. Luckily, her camel had finished drinking so she had steered it away from the spring.
    Afraid of being left behind, Nate tugged on the reins, trying to get Shabiib to follow. The camel wouldn't budge. Nate tried applying his heels to the camel's flanks. Still nothing.
    "Come ON!" Nate said with one final tug at the reins.
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    Like a shot, Shabiib loped away from the water's edge and galloped after Aunt Phil. Greasle squeaked and Nate tried to pull back on the reins. Then, just as suddenly, Shabiib stopped. Nate found himself airborne, tumbling end over teakettle to land flat on his back in the sand. All the air whooshed out of his lungs. With a final squeal, Greasle landed a few paces to his left.
    Shabiib snorted and shook his head, then strolled over to Aunt Phil. Nate struggled to find his breath. "I think I hate camels," he wheezed.
    "I told you airplanes were better," said Greasle.
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    ***
    Chapter Nine
    "W hat," Aunt Phil asked , "is that doing here?"
    Nate raised his head from the sand and followed her gaze to Greasle. Oops. "She," he corrected without thinking.
    Aunt Phil arched an eyebrow at him. "Even so, that doesn't explain why she's here."
    Nate got to his feet. "You said I didn't have to throw her overboard," he explained.
    "Yes, but I didn't say she could come with us."
    "I'm sorry. I thought you didn't want to leave her with the plane."
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    "I don't!"
    "Besides," Nate said, "she's a beast, and you're a beastologist. I would think you'd like having her around."
    Aunt Phil sniffed. "She's not a true beast. She's just a pest."
    Kind of like me, Nate thought. If he couldn't prove himself a true Fludd, he was just a pest dumped on Aunt Phil's doorstep.
    Aunt Phil stared at him for a long moment, then threw up her hands and shook her head. "Very well. Keep her. Now let's quit talking and get these camels unloaded." As she turned and strode away, Nate risked a glance at Greasle.
    "Phew," she said. "That was close."
    "Yes, it was," Nate said. "Now, be good and stay out of trouble."
    The gremlin saluted. "Aye, aye, cap'n."
    Nate shook his head, then hurried to help Aunt Phil.
    Greasle proved to be quite a help in getting the tent set up. Her tiny fingers were especially good at untangling knots. But when Nate pointed that out to Aunt Phil, she merely grunted and shoved a bundle of fragrant sticks at
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    him. "Put those in the tent." He sneezed, then did as instructed.
    When the camp was finally set up to Aunt Phil's liking, they settled down to dinner in the tent. Aunt Phil handed Nate a piece of dried goat meat that tasted like salty leather. He tried to hand it back to her.
    She shook her head. "Eat it. You'll need to keep up your