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... n its own, I jumped back from my reading table. The pages in my book seemed to be trying to get out as my tea cup shook against its saucer. In the seventy years I’ve studied old magic, this had never happened.

"No, no, no," I whispered as I shook my hands and reached for the book. "Not now. "Not after all these years of peace."

When I touched the leather cover, it was as cold as the winter air outside. It was the same awful cold I’d felt when my grandmother told me stories about ...

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