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Chapter 13: When the Blade Hesitates
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Chapter 15: The Path of Silence
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... ed the joke to be on them, but had not yet been told its punchline.
Even the good boots weren’t armored for this sort of cold, wind that slotted knives down the line of your spine and left your ears humming like tuning forks.
Soren flexed his fingers inside the new gloves, feeling the burn of motion in every cut and scar, then cinched the cloak tighter around his throat.
It smelled of woodsmoke, talc, and underneath, the faintest memory of wet animal, like the skin had la ...
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