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. Hidden, but not closed.
With Jilian following, Chane Feldstone crawled
through a cleft among the rocks and entered a tunnel,
which was more a maze that only a dwarf or a curious
kender might have riddled out. Behind them, faint now,
was the rolling thunder of the storm. Chane eased
around a hairpin turn between boulders, then crawled
over a buried slab and under another, following the
green light that seemed to speak to the gem set in the old
helm he wore. On and on they went, and everywhere
was dark, fallen stone with only the green trace to guide
them. Pathfinder pulsed and glowed as the stone maze
wound on dimly. In the pouch at Chane's belt, Spell-
binder throbbed a silent song.
Jilian's cheeks were moist with wiped-away tears, her
throat tight with dread and regret. People she had come
to love were now left behind. They would probably die
so that the mission of Grallen and of Chane's dream
could be completed. She had looked back just once, from
the top of the bridge, and felt as though her heart might
break. The two had seemed so small back there, so
helpless - a bleeding man and a bright-eyed kender with
his hair coiled around his throat. Just those two, facing
...Jilian had not looked back again.
For the first time in her life, Jilian felt the weight of
mountains above her, the press of the stone through
which they made their way
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