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"That's what I wanted to hear," she said with relief.
"It is?"
"I was afraid that part of you, that bravery in the face of overwhelming odds, that committment to justice
when confronted by indestructible evil, might have changed also. I wanted to make sure it hadn't. I
couldn't love you if you'd gone sensible on me."
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"Thanks-I think."
"I know from what you've told me that we have to free this perambulator thing from its captor up there."
She indicated the fortress just above the place where they had paused prior to making the final assault. "I
wouldn't leave now even if you agreed to. I've been used. I feel used. I want to make that unseen bastard
pay. He almost had me killed, which isn't so bad. But he tried to make you do it. That's dirty. I don't like
dirt, Jon-Tom. I like clean. There's something up there that needs cleaning up." She put both hands on his
shoulders. Her lips were every close. He leaned forward.
"Maybe," she whispered lovingly to him, "if we're lucky, we'll have the chance to chop and slice and
dismember him all by ourselves."
He licked his lips, sat back, and regarded the light in her eyes and the bloodthirsty grin on her exquisite
face. This was his Talea, no mistake about it.
"Uh-yeah, maybe. Let's try that leg again, okay?"
"Okay." She let him help her up. When he let go, she took a few steps. The leg was stiff and it was hard
going at first, but the rest had definitely helped her mobility. "Much better." She put her hands on her hips
and tried jumping a few small rocks. "It'll get better still."
"I'm glad." He put his arms around her and this time had no second thoughts about kissing her. Finally
they separated, and she pointed to her right.
"The hinny I've met, but I don't recognize your short fat friend."
"His name's Colin, and he's not fat, he's as solid as iron. He's a rune-caster, a reader of the future.
Sometimes, anyway. His skill with the runes is about like my skill with the duar."
"That bad, hmm?" Seeing the look that came over him, she smiled and patted his cheek affectionately.
"Just kidding, spellsinger. Speaking of which, you have your duar. Can I borrow your ramwood staff?"
"Lend 'er another staff o' yours, mate!" Mudge howled gleefully.
"I should've split that otter years ago!" she said through clenched teeth. Picking up one of the vanished
clone's swords, she started chasing Mudge over the rocks. The cackling water rat eluded her with ease,
taunting her each time she took a swing at him.
Colin strode by, intent on making certain their supplies were strapped tight to Dormas's back. "Glad to
see your fiancee's leg's better." He glanced in the direction of the chase. "Sword arm seems okay too."
"They're old friends," Jon-Tom told him.
"I know. I can see that."
Eventually a winded Talea gave up and re-joined Jon-Tom. "One of these days I'll feed that foulmouthed
otter his works." She reached up to push red hair out of her eyes. Then she put the sword aside to wrap
both arms around him.
"Promise me something, Jon-Tom."
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"If I can."
"When we find this evil one, let me be the one to slay him. I'll make him bleed slowly."
"Talea, sometimes I think you enjoy fighting too much."
She stepped back from him, pouting. "If it's a frothy petite woman you want, then you should never have
fallen in love with me, Jon-Tom."
"The woman I love is stronger than that, but she doesn't have to be a barbarian ax murderess, either."
Silence between them. Then her pout gave way to a scintillating smile. "They say that opposites attract,
don't they? Didn't you tell me that once?"
"Yeah, and on reflection I think it was a pretty stupid thing to say. All I know is that I love you with all
my heart, and if you want to carry a sword during the wedding, well, hell, that's all right with me, so long
as it doesn't intimidate the wedding master."
"Wedding master." She looked uncertain. "You said you wouldn't push, Jon-Tom."
"No one is going to do any pushing except up this hillside." Clothahump regarded them sternly. "We
have rested long enough. It is time now for us to make an end of this matter, lest it make an end of us.
There is no telling what we may encounter inside these walls. Talea likely saw nothing because it was
intended that she not. All of you must be prepared for an attack of the most outrageous possibilities.
"We have journey far but have the longest way yet to go. And there is no telling when the next severe
perturbation will occur. Let us make haste to find the perambulator and set it free."
"I'm ready, by m'luv's legs," Mudge announced loudly. "Lead on, short, shelled, and stubborn! I'm with
you for 'avin' an end to this business. There're ladies waitin' to be loved and liquor waitin' to be drunk,
an" I'm sick an' tired o' livin' off the land when the land ain't very accommodatin'."
"You ain't the only one, water rat," said Dormas. "I'd hate to miss the opening trot of the social season."
With Clothahump and Jon-Torr in the lead they advanced toward the single doorway above.
Though they were ready for anything, and Colin anc. Mudge were spoiling for another fight, the actual
assault on the falling-down fortress was more of an anticlimax than any of them could have foreseen.
Mudge reached the doorway first. The double doors were fashioned of hand-hewn wood, and not very
well seasoned wood at that. They were high but otherwise unimposing. There were no guards to
challenge them, no perturbed monstrosities to confront them. Nothing, in fact, to object to their entrance.
Mudge put a paw on the latch, pushed down, and shoved hard. The door swung inward a foot, two
feet-and there was a loud crack. Everyone tensed, and the otter jumped a yard straight backward, but it
wasn't the sound of something attacking. The door had fallen from its top hinge. It swayed there, hanging
precariously from the bottom loop of iron.
The otter slowly advanced to peer inside. "Well?" Clothahump prompted him.
"Scrag me for a Lynchbany tax collector, Your Sorcererness, if the bleedin' place ain't as deserted as a
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