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Chapter 18: Fingers in the dark - 8
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... violet silk-wrapped shard resting in her lap.
The tavern below was hushed, its hearth a faint glow, the air carrying the scent of cooled woodsmoke and wax from a single candle flickering beside her.
Her silver hair spilled loose over her shoulders, framing her pale face, her emerald eyes fixed on the bundle.
She hadn’t moved for nearly an hour, her breath slow, her heart heavy with the shard’s silent weight.
It no longer hummed or burned, as it had in the ruins. ...
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