Loial's quivered at every other step, and he peered down crossing corridors as though wondering what might leap out. The accidental restoration of his ability to channel was the first indication that such a loss was not permanent. Dobraine thumbed one of Colavaere's eyes open none too gently. The storm is coming.
It was ludicrous, a boy's fancy, a small boy's foolish fancy, and it would not go away. He was much calmer. That was one reason. No time to see who was dead, who might live.
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