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."
"I don't mean now, I mean later. Does your horse run
fast?"
"As fast as I need him to, when I need him to,"
Wingover replied cautiously.
"Good," the gnome said, and ducked under his con-
trivance, then turned and peered up at the human again.
"I'll look you up when I need you. 111 supply the rope, so
don't worry about that."
Without further conversation, the small creature
hoisted the nose of his contraption and trudged on to-
ward Barter, towing the thing as he went, only his feet
visible beneath it.
"Did you find out what that thing is?" the elf asked.
"He didn't say, just called it his soarwagon. But it
doesn't matter. Whatever it's supposed to do, it probably
won't. I've seen gnomish things before."
"Odd," the elf said softly. "I think that's the first time
I've ever seen just one gnome. Usually, where there is one
there are dozens."
"I gather he's an outcast," Wingover said. "He was part
of a colony, but they kicked him out. He isn't too happy
about it."
"That explains it, then. But I wonder why." They re-
sumed their pace toward Barter, but the elf remained
thoughtful. "Did you notice the wheels on that thing?"
"Yes. Very nicely made. That's a novel idea for wheels,
to use wire spokes. Light and practical." Wingover hesi-
tated, then turned. "I see what you mean
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