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. "What is he riding?"
"Something unreliable, it seems to me," Chess said.
"All he said was that some people sent him to look for
cats and he hasn't seen any. Oh, and somebody named
Wingover asked about you."
"Me?"
"Might be you. Do you know him?"
Chane scratched his beard. The name did sound famil-
iar, as though he might have heard someone mention it
sometime. Then he remembered. "Wingover's a human.
Rogar Goldbuckle thinks he's crazy."
"No, it's the gnome who's crazy. He said so himself."
"Why would Wingover ask about me? I don't even
know him."
"Maybe you're becoming famous," the kender sug-
gested. "Look, the gnome is coming down again. Every
time he goes in one of those circles he gets lower. Wow!
That looks like fun."
"Fun," something voiceless said.
Chane jumped and looked around, then clenched his
teeth. "I wish that spell would stop talking," he growled.
"It makes me nervous."
"Shut up, Zap," the kender said offhandedly. 'You just
want to get away from the Spellbinder."
"Need to," Zap whispered.
"Oh, he's going away," Chess sighed.
"Your spell?"
"No, the flying gnome. See? He's heading south. Oh,
well. Easy come, easy go."
"It doesn't matter," Chane said. "I found something, fi-
nally." He walked away, back in the direction he had just
come
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