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Astra is impressed by the harpy's load-carrying capability. Together, she
and Mountebank must weigh over three hundred pounds, but the bird-woman
continues to fly on strongly, seemingly tireless. She can see others of
the flock not far away, each carrying a single person.
She is less impressed by her bearer's seeming incontinence. She is finding out the hard way why the legends make great play of harpies' filthiness. Fortunately the droppings are like those of a bird rather than anything worse, but even so they are quite unpleasant enough. The back of her sailor suit and the hair on her head rapidly acquire a coating of guano, and Mountebank is faring no better. After half an hour or so they reach land. The harpies fly on, towards the mountain range that lies a few miles inland. As they get closer, Astra can see the dark mouth of a tunnel. The harpies fly into it in single file. The tunnel seems completely black to Astra, and she wonders how the harpies avoid flying into the walls or each other. After a few minutes, they emerge into an enormous cavern, lit by a myriad of torches. It's the Hall of the Mountain King. (Cue incidental music by Grieg.) On a golden throne in the centre of the cavern, sits the king, surrounded by his people:
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12/3/2002 1:47:37 PM
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