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. I can't be seeing this! he thought,
stubbornly. And I'm not!
"It's the pipe! It's the pipe, Flint! Listen!"
Again that enticing, gentle song. Behind him Flint heard
the thick flap of wings. He ducked only in time to miss
being struck by a wide-eyed owl. Two white-bellied mice
darted past his feet, saw the owl, and dove screaming
behind Tas's pack.
"Tas! Stop!"
"No, Flint! It's the magic! They heard it! I wanted them
to hear, and they did."
Magic? Flint turned this way and that, and everywhere
he looked he saw what he knew he shouldn't be seeing.
Sputtering protest, stammering questions, he received no
answers from Tas.
The kender was on the floor again, bent over his pipe,
his eyes squeezed shut in fierce concentration. He'd brought
the rabbit and the deer. The mountain goat had heard and
found him. And two mice and an owl. Soon, surely, his
song would bring Tanis and Sturm.
Numbly, too stunned to know where to look first, Flint
clapped his hands to his ears. After a moment he closed his
eyes because there was a deer pawing at the frozen dirt
floor, an owl preening its wings in the rafters, and a goat
nibbling delicately at the straps of the dwarf's pack. He felt
something soft and warm touch him and looked down to
see the rabbit asleep against his foot
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