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. Then the
sky gave way to ground, but the ground seemed to be
coming from above. If I don't scream, I am going to
vomit, thought Woodrow, and I don't have any idea
which way it will fall. He opened his mouth, but all that
came out was a hoarse, croaking sound.
"What did you say?" shouted Tas. As the kender
leaned back in the saddle, the dragon finished its roll and
once again dived straight down toward the ground.
"C'mon Woodrow, loosen up." shouted Tas, tugging at
the human's shirt. The dragon leveled out, eight feet off
the ground, and shot down a narrow street with build-
ings crowding in on both sides. It turned a corner, side-
swiped a row of flowerpots right off a balcony with the
tip of its wing, and then rose just enough to swoop across
the rooftops and slalom between chimneys.
"This is better than going over a waterfall," shrieked
Tas. "What a ride! That gnome is a genius! Here we go
again!"
The dragon climbed steadily, its wings beating rhyth-
mically. Long after Tas expected it to swoop or roll again,
it continued climbing. Tas looked back over his shoulder
and let out a long whistle. "We sure have covered a lot of
ground. I can barely see Rosloviggen anymore."
"Where are we?" Those words were the first Woodrow
had spoken since leaping onto the dragon's tail several
lifetimes ago.
"I'm not sure, but we're way above it," Tas said mat ter-
of-factly. As if that was its signal, the dragon banked
steeply and circled to the right, spiraling down toward
the mountains. Moments later, Tas could make out the
silhouette of a tower against the white snow back-
ground
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