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. It fate. You must give in."
"But it's not my fate," Flint insisted, "because your proph-
ecy is not my concern!"
Nomscul suddenly looked crestfallen. "You mean you no
want to be our king? It great honor. We wait long time for
you to come - since before Nomscul be Nomscul!"
Lower lip quivering, Nomscul pulled the rusted blade
from a hiltless dagger and a mold-encrusted pendant from
the pockets inside his furry vest and held them toward Flint.
"If you not king, who get treasures Aghar save since Kitty-
clawsem? Who be our saver?" The room erupted into a sym-
phony of wailing, moaning, sobbing, and shrieking gully
dwarves, who threw themselves to their knees and pounded
the ground in despair.
"Oh, for crying out loud, stop that infernal screeching!"
Flint yelled. The room fell instantly quiet, and all eyes
turned to him.
Including Perian's. Flint had all but forgot her in his des-
peration to escape. Suddenly the hill dwarf saw himself as
she must see him, strapped to the chair, and he felt more
foolish than angry. Enough was enough.
Flint regarded Nomscul, who was tapping his chin
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