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Lester Macready had no idea what the demifoxes wanted with him. But
whatever it was,
it had to be preferable to being hanged, so he was happy enough to go
along with it.
Shabot took him across town, and at
their destination introduced him to Elder Ringroot. Ringroot escorted him
to a room
that was rather more comfortable than the cell he had had in the
prison, though Lester noticed that when Ringroot departed he locked the
door on the
outside. He was still a prisoner, it seemed.
In their cell at the other end of the corridor from Lester's, Fred and Astra had just completed their seventh game of chess, not having any better way of passing the time. They were evenly matched, and the score stood at three all. Only one game so far had been drawn; as might have been expected from their characters, both preferred an attacking style of play, verging at times on rashness. Their captors had recently provided them with a proper chess set, which made for a more peaceful game, with no more arguments such as whether a particular stone had been designated as a rook or was merely a pawn. Then they heard their door being unlocked, and Ringroot entered. To their surprise, he was wearing gloves and had a mask covering his muzzle. He carried a small glass bottle. "I want some of your blood," he told Astra. "Just a few drops will be enough. I'm going to prick one of your paws and squeeze out a little into this bottle." "What do you want it for?" Astra asked suspiciously, aware that blood could be used in various black magic rites that were usually bad news for the provider of the blood. Then she realised what Ringroot's gloves and mask signified. "Ah, so you still think we're lycanthropes, do you? You don't want to risk infection yourself, but you're willing to experiment on some other poor wretch. What a brave fellow you are!"
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1/14/2001 7:33:14 AM
Extending Enabled
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