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. You said you'd seen me use it."
'You're good with it, so stay here."
"I don't have much choice, if Spellbinder's here. Unless
... I don't suppose you'd want me to hang on to Spell-
binder until you get back. That way I could --"
"No-o-o!" something that wasn't exactly a voice
seemed to wail.
"Oh, yeah," the kender remembered. "I don't want to
have to listen to that again. Of course, I could leave my
pouch, but then what would I use to carry hoopak
pebbles?"
"Stay!" Chane growled. "All the rest of you, too. I
know where I'm going, and I'll go faster alone."
But Wingover was ignoring the dwarf. Quickly, the
man stripped the packs from his horse, down to just sad-
dle and gear. As he swung aboard, he snugged his flint-
hide shield to his left forearm in riding mode. Wingover
then pulled his sword around, ready to hand, and looked
down at the glowering dwarf. "When it comes to travel-
ing fast, you're about the worst choice we have at the
moment. So it's up to me. Where is that hillside?"
Chane glared up at him. "How do I know you'll come
back?"
"How do you know you would?" the man bristled.
"Do you want my help or not?"
"I never asked for your help," Chane grumbled. "Jilian
did."
Wingover leaned down to match the dwarf's pugna-
cious glare with one of his own. "I believe you could ag-
gravate the horns off a minotaur, dwarf, but I don't think
you're stupid. Tell me where to find that helm of yours,
or I'll go search for it anyway
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