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. You see, they
weren't supposed to bring you here, just tell you I was OK."
Flint's face turned the color of raw beef. "I'll kill them with
my bare teeth!" he stormed, hungrily looking about the
room. But the gully dwarves were nowhere to be seen. Even
Nomscul had skulked out of the room.
Flint saw the expectant expression on Basalt's face. The el-
der Fireforge ran his hand up his forehead and through his
hair, and tried to think of how to explain this muddle to Ba-
salt. He looked into his nephew's eyes, so like Aylmar's.
"You heard me right: I'm king of this gully dwarf city,
known as Mudhole."
"Did you lose a bet, or did you have to fight for the
crown?" Basalt arched one eyebrow. "You do have a crown,
don't you?" With that, Flint's nephew threw his head back
and laughed without restraint, without concern for his
bruises. He laughed so hard he held his sides. Flint rolled his
eyes and waited patiently while his nephew got the hysteri-
cal laughter out of his system. But Basalt would wheeze to a
stop, look at Flint as if about to speak, and then burst out
laughing anew
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