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. "It isn't anybody's fault. These things just
happen. Though they could have been a little kinder
about it, in my opinion."
"Who could? And kinder about what?"
"Everybody. The Transportation Guild, the Master
Craftsgnome... the whole colony. Kinder about getting
rid of me, is what they could have been. If it had hap-
pened at home, I'd have had my say about it. But no.
'Out in the colonies,' they said, 'this sort of thing can't be
tolerated. Good of the colony,' they said. 'Best just to
send the poor soul packing off into the howling no-
wheres, than to chance his infecting anyone else.' So out I
went. Kit, klacker, and Krynnbook, as they say. Speak-
ing of which, I sincerely hope my map was right. That's
supposed to be the village of Barter just ahead. Is it?"
"It is," Wingover nodded. Garon had come up to them,
and the man turned. "I kind of thought there'd be a
gnome under this thing," he said. "And here he is. His
name's Bobbin." He waved a casual hand. "That's Garon
Wendesthalas. He's from Qualinost."
Bobbin nodded curtly, then turned to Wingover again.
"How much for the use of your animal?"
'The use of... for what?"
"To pull my soarwagon. What else?"
"This thing? You look like you're doing all right, pull-
ing it yourself
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