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"We must be getting close," Tas said.
Two more reluctant pushes with the piece of wood re-
vealed the gray, decomposing carcass of a beak-faced
owlbear buried beneath the more usual sorts of garbage.
Both Woodrow and Tas dashed for the farthest corner of
the barge and hung their heads beneath the level of the
gunwale.
"We've got to dump that thing overboard, Mr. Burr-
foot," gasped Woodrow.
"I don't think that would be wise," the kender an-
swered. "I'm sure it would attract sharks."
"Would a shark eat that?"
"Oh, yes. Sharks eat everything, dead or alive, but
mostly alive, and mostly humans and kender and such.
And they're enormous and can chew a boat apart if there
is something aboard they want to eat. Which is -- as I
said -- everything."
"But we're not in the ocean," objected Woodrow. "This
is the 'Bay' of Balifor. So we're all right, right?"
Tasslehoff flopped back into the bottom of the barge
and inhaled deeply. "They call it a bay, but it connects
right up to the ocean. Ships that sail on the ocean come in
and out of Port Balifor all the time. We're definitely safer
with a dead owlbear than with a live shark."
Wordlessly, Woodrow sank down beside Tas. In the
quiet, windless heat, the stink hung over the barge like a
shroud. Together they sat and stared at the offensive
owlbear carcass and wished themselves elsewhere.
Tas was soon bored again, so he absently watched a
distant dot grow against the horizon. "What is that,
land?" he asked at last, pointing for the human's benefit
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