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. "You one fun king!" He jammed the crown back on his
king's head.
Flint screamed. "Not points down, you moron!" Nomscul
hastily yanked it off and righted it.
Not a bad fit. Looked okay too, Flint decided. "Now, un-
tie me!" The room was a flurry of gully dwarves trying to
comply with Flint's wishes, some pulling on the ropes, a fair
number trying to gnaw through them with their teeth. At
last the bonds fell away and Flint stood up, rubbing his
wrists and legs.
The Aghar were in a delirious frenzy; their "saver" had ar-
rived. Nomscul whistled for attention. "Shudduuuuub!" he
screamed, but no one was listening. Frowning in irritation,
the shaman snatched the red bag from his belt and clapped it
hard, sending a cloud of dust over the gully dwarves, who
fell silent, as if under a spell. "See," he said, giving Flint a
smug look. "I told you it magic."
He turned back to the gathering. "We plan crownation
party for -" His eyes shifted from left to right as he searched
his mind. "What your names?" he whispered to Flint and
Perian. They quickly told him. "Party someday soon in Big
Sky Room for King Flunk II, and Queen Furryend! I cook
big food and everyone dance!" Most of the gully dwarves
streamed like lemmings from the room to begin the prepara-
tions for the upcoming festivities
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