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. "Gisella can't be dead!
How do you know?"
"She's dead, Mr. Burrfoot." Woodrow sobbed. "She
was hit in the side by a crossbow bolt. I stabbed the man
who killed her -- the one you were fighting as you
knocked him off his horse. See, there's still blood on Gi-
sella's dagger! Please, Mr. Burrfoot," he begged, "let's go!
We can't do anything for either of them, so the best thing
to do is get away."
"He's right," Winnie whimpered, sad for his new
friends. "We can't let Bozdil and Ligg find us here."
"I don't care about the gnomes!" hollered Tas. "We
can't just leave her back there. Stop, Winnie! Turn
around!"
But Winnie continued charging down the mountain-
side. "I can't, Tasslehoff. I just can't. It's too risky. The
gnomes...."
"Kender don't leave their friends!" Tas cried in an-
guish. Quicker than Woodrow could react, Tasslehoff
tossed his leg across Winnie's back and was on the
ground, rolling to break his fall. In a flash he was back
on his feet and charging uphill toward Gisella's body.
Woodrow's hands shook as he tried to slow Winnie.
Every nerve in the human's body told him to fly from this
place as quickly as possible. Yet Tasslehoff Burrfoot was
his friend, and if Woodrow could not go back, at least he
would wait.
As Tasslehoff approached Gisella's body, his breath
caught in his lungs and his eyes blurred. Her horse trot-
ted forward to meet the kender, who gathered up the ani-
mal's reins. The red-haired dwarf's limp body lay some
ten paces from the man who had shot her
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