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. Conifers grew in abundance, and rich, chill-
bleached grass was everywhere. Beside the pool were
several bundles, all securely wrapped in sacking, and the
kender knelt beside the nearest one, untying its straps.
He glanced up, grinned, and pointed. "Look."
High on a rock ridge beyond the cove, several of the
big, dark cats were climbing, going away. Some of them
turned to look back, feral eyes seeming to glow in the
pale light, But they only hesitated, then went on. Within
seconds, they were gone.
"Food!" the kender chirped. "Look at this. Biscuits!
And honey, and oats, and cabbage... wow!" With one
pack open, he went on to the next one.
Wingover heard the thump of a staff and turned. Glen-
shadow stood a few paces back, cold eyes peering from
the shadows of his bison cloak. 'The Irda," he said. "She
has provided for us. She said that would be done."
"But those cats --"
"Are hers. In a way, I suppose they are her."
"Where is she, then, this Irda?"
The wizard gazed at him for a moment, then shrugged
and turned away. "She is an Irda. I suppose she is wher-
ever she chooses to be."
"Irda," Wingover breathed. "Irdas are ogres, from
what I've heard."
Glenshadow shook his head. "No. The Irda is what
ogres may once have been. They are not the same."
'You'd know that if you'd seen her," the kender said.
"Look at this! Raisins. How about that? And cider."
The others had appeared, Jilian helping Chane and
leading Wingover's horse
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