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. "I wonder if there's that much
difference."
"I think I'll take a look around," Chess said. "Things
are getting dull around here."
Before he could turn away, though, the kender looked
up and grinned. 'Things may perk up a little, I guess.
Bobbin's back."
Like a speck against the mountainside, rapidly grow-
ing, the soarwagon dipped and tumbled toward Chane,
Jilian, and Chess. The kender's supply pole dangled be-
low it, horizontal, attached to the hook on Bobbin's life-
line. They walked a few steps out on the bridge to watch
its approach, and Chane's foot bumped something pro-
truding from the bridge rail. He knelt for a better look. It
was a metal ring the size of the palm of his hand, just
inches above the bridge's floor. He raised his eyes,
searching along the rail. There was another a few yards
away, and another beyond that... and the same along
the base of the south rail. Metal rings were set in the
stone at intervals, as far up the bridge as Chane could
see. He knew what they were. Every cable-cart tunnel in
Thorbardin had such rings at every change in grade.
Such winch rings were used for the hoisting and lowering
of laden carts along slopes, by use of pulleys.
Just like in Thorbardin.
But why equip an open-road bridge with winch-rings?
Unless
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