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. "Well, by all that's rustproof, so can I."
Chane glanced at the kender. "Where did you find
her?"
Chess indicated the man with the flinthide shield. "She
was with him."
Chane pivoted toward the man and raised his ham-
mer. "You brought her here? By what right -"
"Don't shake that thing at me," Wingover warned. His
hand was at the hilt of his sword.
"I'm here by my own doing, Chane Feldstone," Jilian
snapped. "I thought you'd be glad to see me."
Chane turned from the human. "I am glad to see you,"
he admitted. "But, Jilian, you don't belong here. You be-
long in Thorbardin, where you're safe."
"I'm safe here," she said. "You're here. Besides, I
brought you something. I thought you might need it."
"What?"
"This." She drew a dagger from her tunic and handed it
to him, hilt-first.
Chane held the dagger, turning it in his hands, barely
seeing it as a sudden, embarrassing moisture clouded his
eyes. It was his nickeliron knife - the very one he had
cherished for so long, then had lost to the toughs who
routed him from the realm of Thorbardin. 'You...
came all this way to bring me this?"
"Well, yes. You always said it was important to you."
Chestal Thicketsway stepped close to look at the or-
nate dagger. "That's pretty," he said.
Chane glared at him. 'You keep your hands off of it
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