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"Any old time you think about wandering off, just remember this:
The council is holding your Uncle Trapspringer prisoner until you
return. They want you back real bad."
"Prisoner? Poor Uncle Trapspringer!" Tas cried. Suddenly his
eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Wait a minute, how do I know they really
have my Uncle Trapspringer?"
Gisella's cheeks colored for the first time. She scratched the
back of her neck, looking uncomfortable.
"Well, it wasn't my idea, but they told me to show you something
if you gave me any trouble." She pulled a tiny pouch from the depths
of her blouse and tugged open the strings. Wrinkling her nose, she
held up a two-inch, jointed piece of polished white bone.
"Here's his finger!" Tas peered at the fragment closely.
"Yep, that's Uncle Trapspringer's favorite one," he said,
unperturbed. "I'd recognize it anywhere."
Tanis's face wrinkled in horror. "They cut off your uncle's
finger? But why would they do that over such a small matter?"
"I thought it was unusually nasty, myself," Gisella agreed,
dropping the bone back into the pouch.
Tasslehoff's expression turned from confusion to sudden
amusement. 'You thought this was one of his fingers? Oh, that's
funny!"
"Well, that's what you said it was, you doorknob," Flint
growled, shuffling his feet angrily. Tanis looked merely bewildered.
"Oh, that's really funny!" Tasslehoff shrieked. He clutched his
stomach and doubled over with highpitched laughter, oblivious to the
irritation of his friends
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