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... shadows that purred as they came, like
the rumbling of distant thunder.
"Oops!" Chess said, and ran.
* * * * *
In evening's dusk, Chane Feldstone and Glenshadow
the Wanderer rounded a curve of the black road and saw
ahead of them a conclave of cats. Feral eyes and dagger
teeth glinted where the brutes prowled and crouched at
each side of the path, while a small figure danced and
darted from side to side, shouting threats and taunts. As
the two approached, the taunter saw them and waved.
"Hello!" he called. "I wondered where you were! Who's
that with you?"
"There's that kender," the dwarf told the wizard, then
turned. Glenshadow had stopped. The man stood now,
holding his staff before him as though to protect himself.
Chane cocked his head, the tilting ears on his cat-cape
cap giving a quizzical look to his scowl. "What's the mat-
ter? It's only a kender."
"There's more," the wizard said. "But I can't see..."
"More? I don't see anybody except a kender. And of
course a bunch of cats, but that's no surprise."
"Not a person," the wizard said slowly, looking one
way and then another, peering into the gloom. "No, not
a person, but an... an event."
The dwarf growled, deep in his chest. Kender and wiz-
ards... birds and hunting cats... Chane was begin-
ning to miss the sensible, logical life of Thorbardin
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