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"No, we're going to play this game," said Trapspringer,
concentrating on lifting a stick perfectly from the tangle.
"Why aren't we looking for another way out?" the hu-
man demanded, glaring at the kender on the floor.
Trapspringer shrugged. "Vinsint said there wasn't one.
But it would be interesting to explore the rest of this
place," he had to admit.
"You're just saying that because you made that
blue stick move and have to give up your turn," sulked
Damaris.
Trapspringer laughed. "I did no such thing! That was a
clean draw."
The blonde kender stuck out her lip in what she hoped
was an adorable pout. "Well, at least I can beat him!" She
pointed at the red-faced human.
Trapspringer's laughter turned into full-blown snort-
ing. He liked the way the torchlight brought out the yel-
low in Damaris's hair. "Sure you could, but humans are
lousy at pick-up sticks. Vinsint could probably beat him,
and Vinsint's hands are bigger than my head."
"That's not the point," she said with mock indignation.
Phineas rolled his eyes in disgust. "If you two would
stop billing and cooing at each other, we might find a
way out of here!" He looked to the stairway. "Those
steps have to lead somewhere!"
Trapspringer helped Damaris to her feet. She self-
consciously rubbed at her cheeks with her sleeves to re-
move any grime and straightened the broken feathers in
her hair.
Phineas and Trapspringer each took a lit torch from
the walls. "After you," the human said, jerking his head
from Trapspringer to the steps
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