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. "What else would
you make a kender? This mage, whoever he may be,
understands kender as well as any it seems."
HE'S CAGED THE SQUIRREL. IT AMUSES HIM, I
THINK, AS IT AMUSED HIM TO MAKE A CAT OF PYTR
AND A BIRD OF ME.
Tanis winced at that. Flint growled low in protest. The
soul of a kender caged or bound would wear the bruised
colors of misery. "Who is this mage, Wren?"
RIEVE IS HIS NAME.
Raistlin lifted his head then, the way a man who scents
smoke on the wind does. Tanis glanced at him. Caramon,
silent till then, sat forward.
"Raist?" Caramon said, his hand moving reflexively to
the hilt of his sword lying scabbarded at his feet. "You've
heard of this mage?"
"He has an evil reputation, this Rieve. I've heard of
him." Raistlin smiled slowly then, humorlessly, as though
he understood the question his twin hesitated to ask. "But
you need have no fear, brother mine. Though I would be
foolish indeed if I did not acknowledge that Rieve's skills
are greater than mine might be now, I think he has gone so
far in his cruelty that he has given me a weapon against
him."
"A weapon?" Tanis asked.
Raistlin's pale blue eyes glittered. Had there been light
from the moons that night, its wash across the new snow
would have been as cold
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