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. Just hang
on to them, and don't let them slip. I think I can turn
around now."
Bobbin drew a pair of strings and let several others
slacken. The soarwagon tipped its wings and soared into
a wide turn, spanning several miles of valley below in the
process.
"Can we go down for a better look?" Chess wondered
aloud.
"What do you want to look at?"
"Whatever's down there. Let's go see." In his excite-
ment the kender eased his hold on the two strings, and
the soarwagon's nose pitched downward. Abruptly they
were in a screaming dive, straight down, with terrain ris-
ing to meet them.
"Oh, let me have those!" Bobbin leaned over, took the
strings away from the kender, and pulled on them. The
dive flattened out, and the flying machine raced over the
tops of leafless trees toward a pall of smoke just ahead.
"This is a lot better," Chess observed, leaning far out
from the basket for a better view.
The smoke was a thick darkness underlit by the flames
of many fires - burning houses, burning sheds, huts
ablaze, and haystacks smoldering. An entire village was
burning, and in the distance another lay in ash and em-
bers. As the flying machine swept over the fires, Chess
saw dozens of goblins below, tending the fires and bring-
ing things to throw upon them
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