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"He's lost his mind." The words hardly matched the
breathless awe, the chilled amazement, of Flint's tone. "By
Reorx's forge, if that kender ever had a mind to lose, he's
lost it now. Tanis! Look!"
Tanis raised his head from his drawn-up knees, looked
to where Flint pointed. Impossible, the half-elf thought
dully, he's dead, drowned.
"Impossible" was not a word one could apply to a kender's
resourcefulness with any hope of accuracy. Tas - topknot
flying in the wind from the falls, arms spread for balance -
negotiated a natural bridge no wider than the span of two
hands across the cascade's spout high above the lake. Even
as Tanis watched, the kender turned his head as though
speaking to the one who followed him on hands and knees.
Tanis scrambled to his feet and ran out to the edge of
the shore. Sturm and Caramon joined him, squinting up into
the last light of the day.
"Aye," Sturm muttered. "And there's that hook-handed
villain who escaped me in the lake! How did they GET
there?" He looked around wildly as though seeking a way to
get to the arch above the falls. There was only the lake, and
he would have made that swim again.
- Tanis held him back. "You'd never get there in time,
Sturm
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