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Now he was in the Room of Conjurations. He ran for a corner
and tried to climb the wall. Falling back, he ran for the doorway he
hoped would be an exit.
The Magus stepped through that very doorway into the
chamber. Tasslehoff stopped dead, crouched and ready to jump in
any direction.
"Pleased you could join me," said the Magus.
"I must confess," the Magus said, "that I don't understand why
the ring you're wearing teleports you about as it does. You're at its
mercy, yet it pulls you out of my reach and keeps you safe. It's
kept you alive for days and days, bringing you to this castle to me.
I don't understand it, and I know I don't like it."
Tasslehoff watched his opponent like a hawk. "I'm not dancing
about it either," he said. "I'd rather be home in a tavern."
"I don't doubt that," the Magus retorted, walking slowly around
the kender. The sorcerer scratched at his cheek with a bony finger.
"Circumstances, however, dictate otherwise. I want to finish this
now, before the sun sets. You're the first person ever to invade my
castle. You deserve a special fate."
"You wouldn't want to be friends and let me go home, would
you?" Tasslehoff asked faintly.
The Magus smiled, the skin pulling across his face like dry
paper. "No," he said.
Tasslehoff darted for the open door. The Magus gestured, and
Tasslehoff slammed into the door as it flew shut. Stunned, he
found his nose wasn't broken, though his eyes streamed tears
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