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. So where were they?
Either they are toying with me, or... or they didn't fol-
low me at all, Basalt thought. Strangely, the first possibility
did not frighten him, but the second made him angry. Basalt
reflected on the humiliating beating, remembered his
bruises and shattered bones, and felt the cuts and scrapes
suffered during his wild flight through the forest. He was
nothing but a joke to these derro, first a punching bag and
then a frightened rabbit to be chased off.
The shame was almost more than he could bear. Ex-
hausted beyond endurance, broken in body and spirit, Ba-
salt lapsed gratefully into unconsciousness.
* * * * *
Flint plunged down the steeply angled, rocky chute, tum-
bling head over heels, slamming from side to side. He fought
to gain some control over the plummet, but could barely
discern up from down. Jagged edges of granite tore at his
flesh and clothing as his hands groped desperately for any-
thing to grip. Suddenly his short fingers slapped against
something long, thin, and hard, and instantly they locked
around it
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