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Strong hands held him. Blinking, clearing the mist from
his eyes, Palin looked down to see himself reflected in the
bright, dark, cunning eyes of the dwarf. "Steady, laddie,"
said Dougan, "you're flying high, too high for one whose
wings have just sprouted."
"Leave me alone!" Palin cried, pulling away from the
dwarf's grip. "You want the gem yourself!"
"Aye, laddie," said Dougan softly, stroking his black beard.
"And I have a right to it. I'm the ONLY one who has a right
to it, in fact!"
"Might makes right, dwarf," Palin said with a sneer.
Picking up his staff, he started to walk toward the door.
"Coming?" he asked Tanin coldly, "or must I bring you
along as I'm carrying that great oaf!" Gesturing toward
Sturm, he drew the young man toward him with a motion
of his hand. Twisting his head, Sturm gazed back at Tanin
in fear and alarm as he drifted through the air.
"Oh, no! Don't leave! Do some more tricks!" cried the
women in dismay.
"Stop, young mage!" Dougan cried. "You're falling
under the spell!"
"Palin!" Tanin's quiet voice cut through the buzzing in
his brother's head and the laughter of the women and the
shouts of the dwarf. "Don't listen to Dougan or me or
anyone for a moment
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