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Once the girl was well settled and sleeping, wrapped in Tanis's
blanket, Flint sat forward, still grimly silent.
But Tanis did not speak. Long experience had taught him that
the best defense against Flint's disapproval was silence. Faced with
no argument against which to vent his objections, Flint would,
sooner or later, find a way to challenge Tanis's silence. With
studied care, Tanis checked the fire and took up the arrows he'd
used to bring down the hares. The green and gold fletching that
marked them as his own was damaged. Tanis worked over them
quietly until Flint at last spoke.
"Well?"
Tanis looked up from his work. "Well?"
"It's late to play word games, Tanis," Flint growled. "What
made you offer to take up this foolishness?"
"What are we supposed to do, leave her here?"
"We could escort her to Solace."
"She won't go."
"How do you know that? You didn't press very hard."
Tanis smoothed the stiff feathers of one of the arrows. "It
seems clear enough to me."
"What seems clear to me is that you've committed yourself to a
hopeless task. Tanis, we don't even know what truth there is in the
girl's story. Ghosts? Bandits, I might believe. But phantoms who
laugh at cold steel?" The old dwarf shook his head. "The girl is ei-
ther lying or a lack-wit."
"No, Flint. She's neither."
"You're so sure?"
Tanis wasn't completely certain. He only knew that her
determination to go on, to find her brother and their friend, was
real
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