Beast Master's Circus

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To Jim Frenkel, Tor editor, who edited this book with considerable patience despite dealing with an author who can't spell or punctuate, and has no computer-savvy whatsoever. Thanks.

To the computer-repair firm of StanCo, who rushed out several times to fix my printer on the spot so I could produce this work. Thanks, Stan and Andrew.

And to the one, the only, the ubiquitous, Premier Ocispot Tigerman—my Ocicat—on some of whose traits and abilities I based the character of Prauo, and without whose loving assistance this work would have probably been finished a lot sooner.

Thanks, guys, I couldn't have done it without you.

Laris crouched over the new animal. It was gasping for breath still, but that would not last long. The shock of its injuries and the pain of losing what meant most to it were draining both its strength and will to live. Even as she worked, it gave one final, long, slow breath—and as that was released so was the poor beast's life. She felt tears come to her eyes. She'd tried. She had. But that would buy her nothing from those who employed her.

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