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. For the moment, the red spot on his forehead was
so dim that it was barely noticeable. Better still, the fire-
light reflecting on his cheeks above his beard revealed a
healthy, ruddy color that Jilian attributed to two days of
rest and good food, though among the others were some
who suspected other cures as well.
Glenshadow the wizard had made it clear that, in his
opinion, the dwarf had been in no danger, despite his ill-
ness. The red moon, the wizard said, had set Chane a
task.
Glenshadow had been silent after that. He had gone
off by himself to sit in thought. Then, after a time, he had
pulled his bison cloak about him and wandered away on
some path of his own.
He had not returned, though a day had passed.
But as Chane Feldstone lay now, sleeping by the little
fire, Jilian hovering beside him as always, it was the ken-
der who saw a thing that needed no reconsideration. He
came with twigs to feed the fire and paused there. Then
he beckoned to Wingover and pointed.
Jilian had fallen asleep. Her head nodded forward,
then rested, moving slightly with her even breathing as
she slept. In the shadows between the two dwarves, their
two hands lay clasped, Jilian's little hand resting in
Chane's larger one.
Wingover grinned. 'Yes," he whispered. "That very
likely is what is curing him. Some comforts have more
power than people know."
"Not for me," something seemed to say wistfully, and
Chestal Thicketsway looked up from the new task he
had begun, which was trimming branches off a long, thin
sapling he had found
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