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. Others-
who might need it- may draw upon Solinari-if they choose. . .
." He did not look at Palin as he spoke, but the young man felt
himself flush.
"What do mean-draw upon its power?" Caramon demanded
angrily, grabbing hold of Dalamar. "Palin's not a mage, not yet.
You said you would deal with everything-"
"I am aware of my words," Dalamar interrupted. He wrenched
his arm free of Caramon's grip with an ease astonishing in the
slender elf. "And I will deal with . . . what must be dealt with. But
things strange and unexpected may happen this night. It is well to
be prepared." Dalamar regarded Caramon coolly. "And do not
interfere with me again or you will regret it. Come, Palin. You
may need my assistance to enter these gates." Dalamar held out his
hand.
Glancing back at his father, Palin saw his eyes fixed on him.
"Don't go in there," his anguished gaze pleaded. "If you do, I will
lose you . . . ."
Lowering his own eyes in confusion, pretending he hadn't read
the message that had been as clear as the very first words his father
taught him, Palin turned away and laid his hand hesitantly upon
the dark elf's arm. The black robes were soft and velvety to the
touch. He could feel the hard muscles and, beneath, the fine,
delicate bone structure of the elf, almost fragile to the touch, yet
strong and steady and supportive.
An unseen hand opened the gates that had once, long ago, been
made of fluted silver and gold but were now black and twisted,
guarded by shadowy beings
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