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. At the cove, they all stopped
and stared. Jilian nodded. "This is more like it. Let's get a
fire going, and I'll make tea. And soup. Don't you think
some soup would taste good, Chane? Here, you sit down
over here. Eat a biscuit while I'm cooking."
'There is danger ahead of us, then," the wizard noted
ominously. 'The Irda knows."
"How does she know any such thing?" Wingover spun
toward Glenshadow, tired and angry, confused and feel-
ing as though everyone but himself had a hand in this sit-
uation. "Does she use magic?"
"Only a little... of the kind I use, when I can use it at
all," Glenshadow said. "The kind you so despise, though
it is a part' of your world and not always to your disad-
vantage. The Irda is a shapechanger. That much is
magic, though natural to her kind. And she is a singer.
Some have said the Irda carry magic in their voices,
though I think now it is simply that they have... such
voices." He paused and considered the point for a mo-
ment. "Perhaps they have another magic that is outside
the magic of Krynn. I believe they do, but who can say
for certain. If they do, then it is used entirely for their
own purposes and not for or against any other being. It is
the nature of the Irda."
"You haven't answered my question," Wingover
snorted. "How could such a creature -- as you say --
know that there is danger ahead for us?"
"She listens." Glenshadow shrugged. "The world has
many voices, and eyes everywhere
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