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. "What
Chane said goes for me, too," she said.
"Any further doubts?" Chane asked the man.
Wingover shook his head. "Not a single one."
"Then let's stop talking about it and go on," Chane
snapped.
"Someone is coming." The kender pointed. A moment
later brush parted on the rising slope and the wizard
Glenshadow came into view. He looked haggard and
cold, but his steps were firm.
"The valley is full of goblins," Chane told him. "We are
going to try to cross at night."
"I've seen them," Glenshadow said. "They are all over,
and they're moving around. Where is the crystal? Where
is Spellbinder?"
"Right here." Chane reached into his belt-pouch. As
his fingers touched the artifact it pulsed warmly, and
again he saw the luminous green path leading away
across the Vale of Respite, toward the slopes beyond. He
drew it out. It glowed, rosy in the half-light.
"Put it in a hole," the wizard said.
"Why?"
"Because I'm curious about something. Don't worry, I
won't trick you. There. That hole in the rock, put it
there."
Suspiciously, Chane squatted beside the indicated
hole. It was little more than a foot deep, just a pocket
where erosion had widened a crack on the stone. The
others gathered around, curious.
"Go ahead," the wizard insisted. "Put it in there. You
can take it out again in a moment."
Chane lowered the crystal into the hole, rested it on
the bottom, then stood and stepped back
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