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. "I guess..." she mumbled. But the dwarf continued staring
at the piece of paper, wondering what it was that she was missing,
until the coals burned black, long after Tasslehoff and Woodrow had
both curled up to sleep.
Chapter 4
Phineas wiped the night's grit from his eyes with a corner of
his white smock as he clomped down the wooden stairs, headed for his
office below. Grimacing, he smacked his lips. His mouth had an awful,
metallic taste, as if he'd been sucking on a rusty sword. Undoubtedly
residue from the pitcher of kender ale he'd drunk before falling
asleep last night, he decided.
After opening the door to his examination room at the foot of
the stairs, he quickly lit the stub of a candle in the darkened room
and headed straight for the counter that contained the green glass
bottle of his own special elixir. It was Phineas's cure for anything
that couldn't be covered up with a bandage, ear plugs, or oiled
parchment glasses, or pulled out like teeth or in-grown toenails. He
prescribed it for headaches, stomachaches, foot aches, joint aches,
sore throats, bulging eyes, rashes, bad breath, swollen tongues,
irregularity, and a host of other ills that seemed to plague the
citizens of Kendermore. Oddly enough, he'd found that the
sharp-tasting liquid was actually effective against stomachaches and
bad breath. He charged a dear price for his elixir, claiming that its
mystical ingredients came "from dangerous lands far away, where
strangers are met with the sword and the flame and seldom escape with
their lives
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