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He had seen the great black cats of Waykeep only once.
But once was enough. On stiff legs he started toward the
bend, certain that at any moment a bounding, snarling
pack of the giant creatures would appear there, coming
for him. And it would be up to him to defend the others.
Glenshadow's magic would not work in Spellbinder's
presence. Chane Feldstone was hardly strong enough to
stand off cats. Still, Jilian might make an accounting of
herself with that sword she carried. After seeing the re-
mains of her ogre, the man was willing to believe almost
anything.
Small feet scuffed just behind Wingover, and Chestal
Thicketsway's voice said cheerfully, "What are you
doing?"
"Stay back," the man snapped. "There are cats ahead."
"Cats? Kitty cats or the Irda's cats?"
"Just stay back, out of the way," "Wingover shot a quick
glance back, felt something brush past his legs, and
turned to shout, "Come back here!"
"I'll just take a quick look," the kender said, scamper-
ing ahead. "If they're like the Irda's cats, I've seen a lot of
those."
"Ye gods," the man swore and quickened his pace, will-
ing the rest to stay where they were. Ahead of Wingover,
the curious kender disappeared around the bend.
Wingover ran, then stopped. Just past the bend, the
trail widened, then widened again, and became a deep,
sheltered cove in the mountainside. Clear, cold water
flowed from a tiny spring and pooled before overflowing
its rock tank and disappearing again into crevices in the
mountain
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