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. He heard some commotion at this;
high, shrill voices jabbering and chattering somewhere in
the background. Palin giggled and couldn't quit giggling.
From somewhere up above, he heard Dougan's voice
come floating down to him. "Here's to our beds," said the
dwarf, "and a sound night's sleep!" And if there was a
sinister note in the gruff voice or more than a trace of
triumphant laughter, Palin discounted it. The dwarf was his
friend, a brother to him. He loved him like a brother, his
dear brothers . . .
Palin laid his head on the floor, resting his cheek on the
staff's cool wood. Shutting his eyes, he slipped away into
another world - a world of small creatures in brown robes,
who lifted him up and ran away with him. . . .
CHAPTER TWO
A Really Bad Hangover
The world heaved and shivered, and Palin's stomach
heaved and his skin shivered in agreement, misery loving
company. Rolling over on his side, he was violently sick,
and he wondered as he lay on whatever it was he was lying
on - he couldn't open his eyes to see, they felt all gummed
together - how long it would take him to die and end this
suffering.
When he could be sick no more and when it seemed that
his insides might actually stay inside, Palin lay back with a
groan
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