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... nst damp stone walls.

The scent of mildew mixed with something metallic—blood, probably.

Gareth and his party moved cautiously, keeping an ear out for approaching footsteps, while Brann leaned against him for support.

The wounded fighter was slowing them down, and Gareth knew it. Gareth also knew better than to say it out loud.

Tobin, however, had no such restraint.

"Remind me again why we're still skulking around instead of running for our lives?"

...

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