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. The enhanced
light of the white moon showed him part of the inscrip-
tion: Size four siege projectile, specific for use with supe-
rior flipshot...
Gnomes, he thought.
He swung a leg over the lip of the cup and extended a
hand, meaning to set the little statue upright for a better
look. But suddenly the red crystal pulsed and hummed,
the statue's fingers fell away, and the crystal dropped
into his hand. As Chane closed his own fingers around it,
it stilled. He knew then, beyond question, why he had
climbed the cone. The crystal had called him. He was to
take it.
Vaguely, in the dwarf's mind, a face appeared - a face
much like his own, the bearded face of a mountain
dwarf. But not his own face, though there was a strong
resemblance. The face was more stern than Chane's, and
bore the scars of battle. And it looked out at him from
the curved portal of a studded, horned helmet with a sin-
gle ornament - a crystal that might have been a twin of
the crystal in Chane's hand except for the color. The hel-
met's stone was green.
"Grallen?" It was his own whisper that asked it.
The face in Chane's mind seemed to nod, to encourage
... then it faded.
Feeling more confused than ever before in his life,
Chane Feldstone secured the red crystal in his pouch,
slung his hammer on his back, and eased down to the
new holds he had cut
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