PREVIEW
... old woman second opened one eye without moving anything else. "The wind’s wrong," she whispered.
"It knows me," Thea said. "Or someone else with my habits." She flicked two fingers — the sign for spider-net. Her fifty ghosted into positions a storyteller would later make dramatic and a soldier would call common sense: high net with iron dust strung between two rock knobs; low net camouflaged with a thin brush of sand; a dragline of salt woven into a thread to turn a roar heavy if it came ...
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