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. Flint personally selected
two young harrns named Cainker and Garf, and gave them
his best guess for directions to Hillhome, as well as a thor-
ough description of Basalt.
Flint stuffed a hastily scrawled note into the pocket of
Cainker's vest. "Bring this to my nephew," he instructed as
he sent them on their way. "It will tell him I'm safe." He had
no real hope that they would succeed, but it was worth a try.
Thrilled at the prospect of some mossweed, Perian had al-
lowed herself to be swept away by some frawls, who
wanted to gussy her up for the festivities. Thus, Flint, his
first kingly duties attended to, and left alone, finally fell to
undisturbed sleep.
* * * * *
Beads of perspiration joined the streaks that flowed down
Pitrick's temples, pooling above his lips. His thick tongue
licked the sweat away unconsciously, since he was intent on
the heavy, leather-bound tome beneath his eyes. The savant
was seated behind the burnished granite desk that rose out
of the floor in his cozy study to the right and three steps
above the main chamber
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