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. And he'd followed, incap-
able of refusal. Then darkness, bitter as dead hope, covered him,
filling him with dread and piercing fear.
Flint? Riana? With a dark and hopeless feeling he recalled
Flint's words on the cliff: THOSE PHANTOM RAIDERS SEEMED
TO HAVE LITTLE INTEREST IN RIANA . . . THEY WILL HAVE
SMALL ENOUGH INTEREST IN AN OLD DWARF. Where are
Riana and Flint? Dead? Dead. He heard his own groan of fear and
knew, then, that he could speak.
"Who is that? Where are you?"
"Here, beside you." Karel's whispered laugh was sour. "If you
could turn your head, you'd see me. As it is, you'll have to be
content to stare at the ceiling, friend. Wait until he's deep into the
spell again. Then try to move."
Light, splitting and dancing in all the colors of a rainbow,
leaped before Tanis's eyes, arcing and splashing across the field of
his vision. He squeezed his eyes closed, trying to shut out the
needle-sharp pain. "Who are you?"
"Karel. Hush!"
"Daryn." The mage's word was thunder, rolling across the
chamber, filling the air with danger. "Rise!"
Beside him, Tanis heard Karel gasp. He gritted his teeth and
forced himself to move. The effort should have taken him to his
feet. He was only able to turn onto his side. It was enough to allow
him to see the whole chamber, and enough to let him shudder with
horror at what he saw.
It was a small man who spoke those commands, and very old
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