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He and Artavash exchanged a look Sturm could not fathom.
Then the Kernaffi gave him a handkerchief.
"Dry your eyes," he said with a strange note of
compassion.
Radiz and Artavash stood on either side of him as
Sturm faced the steps leading up to the palace roof. Radiz,
Sturm noted, kept one hand on his sword hilt all the way to
the roof.
Four bearded Kernaffi priests stood to one side, offering
up prayers and incense to the Dark Queen. Radiz stopped
and bowed to them, but Sturm thought he detected a look of
disgust on the man's face when he rose. Artavash shaded
her aching eyes from the brilliant sun.
Ten paces away, Mukhari Ras worked to prepare the
special table for his great experiment. His gaunt, bent figure
scuttled from one side to another, reminding Sturm of the
vultures that haunted the southeast tower of Castle
Brightblade. The alchemist's wide black robe added to this
impression.
The air was still. The sun burned fiercely over them.
Sturm shivered in spite of the heat. PLEASE, PALADINE,
PLEASE SAVE ME!
"Bring him over. Come, come along," said Mukhari,
waving his youthful hands. Sturm rubbed his cold, sweating
palms on his pants. He looked to Radiz for some sign of
sympathy
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