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. Chane Feldstone started to crouch above the ken-
der, then winced as his wounded arm took his weight.
"Get back," Wingover snapped, pushing the dwarf
aside. "I'll get him." Kneeling, clinging to a bridge sup-
port, the man reached down and lifted the drenched ken-
der, hoopak and all, to set him on his feet on the
structure. The others stared at Chess. His hair falling
around him, the kender looked like nothing more than a
dark mushroom with a forked stick.
He pulled back long, soggy hair, shook it aside, and
grinned at them. "Hello," he said cheerfully, water cas-
cading from him. "Did you know there are just a heck of
a lot of goblins out there I I'm glad we stopped shining."
He looked at the wizard critically. "If you intend to go on
doing that, maybe you should go somewhere else."
After watching the torches come closer for a moment,
Chane and his allies could see goblins... and creatures
that were taller. Dragging the glowing wizard with them,
trying to keep him shielded behind the horse, the search-
ers scurried for the far end of the bridge and the darkness
beyond. When they were clear, Wingover waved the rest
ahead, except for Glenshadow. "Your phosphors gave
me an idea," he told the wizard. "I think it's time to try it."
Wingover dug into one of his packs and brought out a
pair of hand-length cylinders that glowed silvery in the
faint, murky moonlight. "Phosphor flares," he ex-
plained
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