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sometimes experiences when sleep grows into gradual wakening. Then the light grew less intense, the
drifting stopped, and the world about them grew distinct again.
They were standing on a street corner in a city, the air filled with the sounds of cars and people. Willow
clung to Ben, burying her face in his shoulder, clearly frightened. Ben looked quickly about, shaken
himself by the sudden rush of noise.
Good heavens, it was hot! It was as if it were the middle of summer instead of fall! But that couldn t
be...
 Holy mackerel! he breathed.
He knew exactly where he was. He would have known whatever the circumstances of his being there.
He was right in the middle of the Las Vegas strip.
Castles and Cages
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Questor Thews stared thoughtfully at the empty space that had been occupied by Ben Holiday and
Willow only seconds before, then rubbed his hands together in satisfaction and said,  Well, I believe they
are safely on their way.
Bunion and Parsnip came forward, peered at the emptiness, and hissed their agreement. Their teeth
showed and their yellow eyes blinked like signal lamps.
 Great High Lord, whimpered Fillip from somewhere in the shadows behind them.
 Mighty High Lord, whimpered Sot.
 Come, come! The High Lord is safe and sound, Questor assured them, wondering briefly if he had
remembered correctly all the words and gestures to the part of the incantation having to do with the place
to which he had sent them. Yes, he was certain that he had. Reasonably certain, at any rate.
 Got to concentrate on dealing with matters here, he announced, mostly to himself.  Hmmmmmm. Let
me see.
He straightened himself beneath his robes, tugged on his beard, and peered out into the gloom. It was
still raining heavily, the drops spattering into ever-widening puddles and streams that interlocked across
the whole of the landscape as far as he could see. Clouds hung low against the horizon, and the day
seemed to be growing darker. The haze of mist that had shrouded the valley since dawn was thickening.
Questor frowned. It would be a perfectly reasonable decision to return to Sterling Silver here, and now
and forget about chasing after that confounded demon.
On the other hand, there was nothing waiting at Sterling Silver that wouldn t keep a few days
more and he had promised the High Lord that he would do his best to retrieve the bottle. Although he
didn t care to dwell on it, he knew he was at least partially responsible for the bottle being in Landover in
the first place; therefore, he should do his best to set matters right again especially since the High Lord
had placed such great trust in him.
 I think, perhaps, that we should continue our hunt, he declared.  Bunion? Parsnip? Shall we keep after
the Darkling a little while longer?
The kobolds glanced at each other and hissed their approval.
 Excellent! Questor turned to the G home Gnomes.  I should be less charitable with you than was the
High Lord, Fillip and Sot, if the choice were mine. Still, all was forgiven, so you are free to go.
Fillip and Sot stopped whimpering and shivering long enough to glance about at the gray, empty
landscape and then at each other. Their eyes were wide and frightened.  Good and kind Questor
Thews! said Fillip.  Wondrous wizard! declared Sot.
 We will stay with you!
 We will give you our help!
 Please let us stay?
 Please?
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Questor Thews looked down at them with undisguised suspicion. The gnomes were asking to stay only
because they were afraid of being left alone come nightfall with the Darkling still on the loose. He
hesitated, then shrugged. Well, after all, what could you expect of G home Gnomes?
 Just be sure you stay out of the way if we come across the trolls and that bottle, he admonished
sternly.
The gnomes could not agree quickly enough, falling all over each other in their efforts to assure him that
such would be the case. Questor had to smile in spite of himself. He was quite certain they were telling
the truth on this occasion.
So they struck out north through the weather, Bunion sweeping the land ahead in an effort to pick up
some true sign of the trolls passing, Questor and the others trailing after at a slower pace. Questor rode
his old gray, letting Parsnip and the gnomes follow afoot, with Parsnip leading Jurisdiction, Willow s
mount, and the pack animals. The rain continued to fall steadily, its gray haze mingling with the mist to
wrap the land in ribbons of shadow. Daylight faded as nightfall approached, and still there was no sign of
the trolls.
Bunion returned at sunset, and the company made camp within a gathering of rain-drenched Cyprus
along a river whose swollen waters churned by in sluggish, monotonous cadence. It was relatively dry
beneath the great, hanging limbs, and Questor was able to produce a small, cheerful fire by using his
magic. Parsnip cooked a delightful dinner which was quickly consumed. Then, buoyed by his earlier
success, Questor employed the magic once more to produce blankets and pillows. He would have done
better to let well enough alone, but he decided to try one last incantation, a spell that would have
produced an enclosed, heated, waterproof shelter complete with bath. The effort failed abysmally. One
of the trees actually toppled over on the spot, allowing the rain to douse the fire and leaving the entire
company exposed to the weather. They were forced to move their camp farther back within the
remaining trees, salvaging what they could of the now-dampened blankets and pillows, and that was that.
Questor apologized profusely, but the damage was nevertheless done and couldn t be undone. It was
most embarrassing. While the others slept, Questor Thews lay awake within his blankets and thought
long and hard about the vicissitudes of a wizard s life. Teaching oneself reliable use of the magic was not
an easy task, he lamented. Nevertheless, he must do so. After all, he stood now in the shoes of the High
Lord and he was responsible for the well-being of all Landover.
Daybreak brought more rain. The dawn was iron gray and thick with mist stirred by sluggish winds and a
mix of cool air and warm earth. The little company ate breakfast and struck out once more across the
grasslands of the Greensward. Bunion roamed ahead, still searching for some sign of the trolls, while the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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