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Bradley, Marion Zimmer, 1930-1999

"The Door Through Space"

It was almost as cold as
Dallisa's.
"If you've come from Kyral, I'm not going back. I'll never go back, and
you may as well know it."
"I don't come from Kyral, and I don't care where you go. I don't care
what you do." I suddenly realized that the last statement was wholly
untrue, and to cover my confusion I shoved the remaining bowl of noodles
at her.
"Eat."
She wrinkled her nose in fastidious disgust. "I'm not hungry."
"Eat it anyway. You're still half doped, and the food will clear your
head." I picked up one mug of the coffee and drained it at a single
swallow. "What were you doing in that disgusting den?"
Without warning she flung herself across the table at me, throwing her
arms round my neck. Startled, I let her cling a moment, then reached up
and firmly unfastened her hands.
"None of that now. I fell for it once, and it landed me in the middle of
the mudpie."
But her fingers bit my shoulder.
"Rakhal, Rakhal, I tried to get away and find you. Have you still got
the bird? You haven't set it off yet? Oh, don't, don't, don't, Rakhal,
you don't know what Evarin is, you don't know what he's doing.


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