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. You will have no further doubts,
in a moment or so."
Whether it was Bobbin's own numb hands trembling
at the control strings, or some vagrant current of air, the
soarwagon chose that instant to slip to the right, stall,
and go into a nosedive. Suddenly the gnome saw spin-
ning mountaintops straight ahead, and somewhere be-
hind him the air crackled with fire.
"Oh, gearslip?" he muttered, struggling with his con-
trols.
"Aha," the voice at his shoulder chuckled. "A fine
dodge, gnome. You were lucky that time. But you won't
be so lucky again. I can't let you live, you know."
"Why not?" Bobbin tugged strings, wrestling the
plunging soarwagon out of its spin.
"Because you have seen me," the calm voice said.
"That is your misfortune. None who see me must live to
tell of it... not yet, anyway. You see, that could spoil
the Highlord's plan."
"I wouldn't want to do that, I suppose." Bobbin hauled
on his lines, and the soarwagon's nose edged a few de-
grees down. Bobbin glanced back and gasped. The red
dragon was less than a hundred yards back, wings
folded, gaping jaws displaying ranks of glittering teeth.
The soarwagon screamed into a dive, strained its fab-
rics, and flattened out of the descent, its wake currents
spewing a small snowstorm from the icy top of a rock
peak. Behind the contraption the dragon spread great
wings and dodged the pinnacle.
"That was a nice stunt," the deep voice said in Bobbin's
mind
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