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Chapter tenMevancy said: “There is no one in the caravan we can rely on who has power sufficient to hold the shint. Hurry, fambly! We must ride for the city and lose ourselves there as fast as maybe.” She was upset and hurt, that I could see. I believe she had a little cry in the privacy of her tent before she blazed into action. She was not distraught. She acted, and the impression I gained was clear, as though there had been an interruption in her plans. A tragedy of this dimension, one would think, would drive her crazy with grief. But, no, she remained calm and firm, taking control and organizing us for our flight through the desert to Makilorn. Master Pandarun had found us, and the zorca riders from the queen had hauled us in. There was no chance, given the scene, that we would be