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. He was back a short time later, appearing out
of the darkness like a black-furred shadow with a glint-
ing hammer in its hand.
"The bridge is sound," he told them. "There have been
goblins on the path beyond, but they aren't there now. I
took a good look around. Maybe the rain drove them to
shelter."
"I've heard that goblins have no love of clean water,"
Wingover noted.
With Chane leading, pale but clear-eyed, they started
across. The bridge shivered with the force of the torrent
below it, and creaked and groaned when the horse was
led onto it, but it seemed secure. The searchers were half-
way across when they noticed that the wind had died and
the pouring rain was letting up. The storm was dissolv-
ing as quickly as it had begun, and through clouds
above, the visible moons could be seen in crescent.
"Our shine is outlasting our shield," Wingover
growled, not looking at the wizard. In a way, he felt the
blame had to be shared. The mage had at least tried to
give them cover.
Jilian stopped and raised a hand, pointing upstream.
"Look," she said.
Far up the stream, a greenness glowed -- a widening
point of light that sparkled the torrent's surface and glim-
mered along both banks. Even as they watched, the
green glow grew, coming toward them rapidly.
"The kender?" Chane wondered.
"Oh, rust," Jilian said. "I hope it isn't the poor little
thing's corpse."
"He's still shining," Wingover reassured her
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