The Trail Behind, the Trial Ahead

"We're well out of that," said Professor-Doctor-Master Bartolomeo, removing his armored cap. "No more venom monkeys."

Vittri, who had doffed his own the moment they floated above the treetops again, forked another morsel of vaporgrass up to Gordo, their bloatfrog. Gordo's prehensile tongue snatched it up, and they lost a bit of altitude as he farted happily. "We got away clean, sir, and clear sailing ahead. Nought but ocean now."

Bartolomeo froze in polishing his glasses. "Ocean, did you say?"

"Yes, sir."

"Quick, lad! The fender paddles!"

"Why, sir?"

Bartolomeo pointed down, where needlelike forms leapt amid the waves. "Pokefish!"