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... her eyes flickered, as if some private calculation had just concluded.
"You are not worthy of that weapon," she said, not as a question but as a verdict.
She raised her arm lazily, and purple flame smoked up from her palm. "Nor the power it contains."
Luck already knew she wasn’t about to use it for show—he ducked left on pure reflex, sprinting for the courtyard.
The inferno howled upward, so hot it singed the damp hairs on his arm and baked the resin off a nearby ...
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