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.
But the derro raised his hand and curtly gestured her for-
ward. Once again she took a step toward him, fighting the
impulse with every ounce of her will, but helpless against
the grip of his power. Perian stared at the hideous figure,
cocky in his deformed stance, the grotesque hump pressing
him into his forward-stooping posture. His huge eyes
gleamed at her, glowing like dire beacons in the night.
Flint! She wanted to cry his name, to fall into his arms,
but instead there was only the grinning apparition of Pitrick
before her, growing larger with each inevitable footstep.
The hunchback planted his fists on his hips, sneering confi-
dently as Perian stumbled closer still. In moments she would
be within his reach; he seemed to take a perverse pleasure in
bringing her toward him, while he remained immobile,
waiting.
Her attention riveted to that hateful face, Perian felt as
though she and Pitrick w, re the only beings in the world - a
world that had become very forlorn indeed. Blue light
seeped from his amulet, and it was the only light she knew.
Blindly, helplessly, she stepped toward him again, and once
more
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