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... sions.
Gareth’s horse clip-clopped through mud-slicked streets while his eyes darted everywhere—scanning, measuring, scheming. Buildings leaned against each other like drunks after last call.
Wooden signs creaked in the wind, half of them so faded you couldn’t read what they were selling.
But Gareth wasn’t here to shop.
He was here to throw bait in the water and see what kind of fish bit.
The Tower had appeared three days ago. That massive, impossible thin ...
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