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"Tell me what Queen Furryend looks like," Pitrick
snapped. His eyes narrowed to tiny slits. "Is she enormously
fat, or covered with warts?"
"Oh, no, queen beautiful. She big pretty, with right size
nose and red hair like iron rust." Too-thee looked up, hoping
the explanation pleased the grotesque derro.
Pitrick turned away, his eyes bulging, his mind inflamed.
The derro guards stepped back, frightened by the look on
his face. The pieces of this puzzle were falling together.
Queen Furryend - Perian it must be - descended to them
two days ago, complete with a king - Flint - red hair, and a
taste for North Warren Blue. She obviously thought it
would be funny to steal his private stock, as if that would
make a fool of him. Indeed, he understood why his wish
spell had failed. His wording had been perfect. But he'd
asked for Perian to be returned-to life, and she'd never died!
How they had survived he could not fathom, but he was
certain that it was Perian who was queen to these gully
dwarves.
Flecks of spittle trickled from the hunchback derro's
twitching lips
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