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Chapter 7: Fifty-fifty
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His eyes drifted past it, past the ridge and up to the shapes stacked above the summit’s peak against the stars.
He’d been staring at those shapes since the bird girl dropped him where he lay. Those irregular silhouettes—dark and still like gargoyles. And he had filed them as rock and moved on.
But two of them had light in them.
The same two violet points he’d mistaken for stars. They hadn’t moved since the last time he checked. They hadn’t needed to. They’d been ex ...
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