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. The dwarf had the feeling that she could
crush him with a touch if she chose... or could touch as
softly as a butterfly landing on a petal.
Behind and above Chane, the wizard whispered,
"Irda."
Almost without changing, her song became speech.
"Welcome again, man of magic," she crooned, "to the
place where magic fails. Is this the one? The Derkin-
descendant? Holder of the destiny?" Great eyes in an eb-
ony face turned to Chane, perusing him with a gaze very
like the gaze of the great cat moments before.
The dwarf's heart thumped as he realized they were the
same eyes. "Shapechanger," he breathed.
"Of course she is a shapechanger," the wizard said. "I
told you, she is the Irda. She can take many forms."
"Welcome, small warrior," the Irda crooned. "The
moons have promised that you would come, following
the path of your -"
Another voice, far less enchanting, shattered the spell:
"Come look at the back of this thing!" Chestal Thick-
etsway called. "There's something like a stairway, and
...hello? Who is this?" The kender scampered toward
them, then stopped and blinked as the Irda turned to re-
gard him. "Wow!" he finished lamely.
"This one is no Hylar kin," the Irda chuckled.
Chess blinked again and gave the tall, stunning crea-
ture a slow gaze from top to toe and back
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