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."
Basalt smiled eagerly. "You won't be sorry, Uncle Flint!"
I'm not so sure about that, Flint thought inwardly. What
would he do with Basalt when he got to Thorbardin?
A cold drizzle fell, then turned to light snow. They looked
for an overhanging shelf of rock well off the Passroad, since
a wagon or two was bound to pass in the dark, and made a
crude camp. Uncle and nephew talked long into the night,
about Basalt's father and Flint's brother, and even Flint's fa-
ther, too. Though he hated to see their conversation end,
Flint knew they would pay for their indulgences with ex-
haustion in the morning.
* * * * *
By late afternoon the next day, a snowy one, the road
curved into a narrow valley and began climbing steeply.
Flint and Basalt wondered at the difficulty of maneuvering
heavy wagons up and down these switchbacks, but the rut-
ted state of the road proved that it did carry steady traffic.
They were closer to the heart of the Kharolis Mountains
now, and the surrounding hills had gained sharp definition.
The slopes towered thousands of feet in the air, with jagged
precipices of bare rock exposed to the wind
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