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Chapter 17Book 1: : Fickle fate.
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... situation to me. I could smell the emotions that ran rampant here. Nervousness, some fear, tension, and danger. Stonefang reeked of that particular anger-scent, something his face eagerly conveyed.
The time is nigh, Raffnyk growled. Ironmoor thinks he is clever, and will probably justify this as security. If we had not received a letter than the queen had died this morning, it would have worked too.
I take he would not have done this had she lived? I asked, tense myself. Full awa ...
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