“You’re lucky I let ye live, ye warlock,” the old woman grumbled. Depape and Reynolds drew their guns as the old crone stepped out, blinking against the sunlight like something that’s spent its whole life in a cave. Some wizard, perhaps, but this wasn’t the Emerald City, and Blaine was just as dead as dogshit. What she was interested in was what would come after the hokey-pokey.
”“Does Rhea still have the keeping of it?”“I think so. And when Kimba insists, the Mayor must bow. He traced the shape of her face with the palm of his hand before taking her in his arms . Clay knocked.
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