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Flint hesitated only for a moment. By Reorx, those ribs
smelled good. And they were just about done, too. His
mouth watered as he hoisted the red hot spear off the fire,
then dropped it from his burning hands. He peeled off his
robe and wound it round his hands, then grasped the spear
again. Several dozen ribs weighted down the shaft, but pull-
ing the meat off would take too many precious minutes.
"Jump! Faster!" He heard Perian commanding the gully
dwarves, directing the erratic Agharpults toward their tar-
get. More and more of their subjects flew through the air
with better aim this time, crashing into the rearing monster.
They didn't harm the beast, but they fully occupied its at-
tention.
Seeing Flint laboring with the heavy weapon, Perian
raced to his side. The two of them lifted the spear between
them and cautiously moved around to the monster's side.
The thing's wormlike head remained fixed upon the shriek-
ing, flying Aghar.
"Now!" Flint barked. The two of them rushed forward,
holding the meat-laden spear at shoulder height. The steel
tip struck the carrion crawler between two of its segments, a
few feet back from its head
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